#put more poly positivity into the world girl

[victorluvsalice]

-->And then Victor was attacked by bees. In fact, he was attacked by bees twice. *facepalm* Yeah, kinda forgot that spring meant those little bastards would be awake and unhappy. . .they eventually left Victor alone, though, allowing him to offer his wrist to Smiler for a taste. After Smiler had gotten their fill, I had them mop a slime creature while having Victor finally change into some more gardening-appropriate clothes --

-->And then had Smiler try out some flower arranging, because it was New Skill Day, and they needed to level up a skill they were low in! And they already had a bit of Flower Arranging skill from tending the bonsai bush in the living room, so I figured, why not have them arrange some bluebells? They fiddled around for a little bit while Victor continued harvesting and tending his plants, eventually getting skill 2 and making a vase worth a whole twelve simoleons. XD To be fair, that’s still all pure profit, as the arrangement cost nothing to make, sooo. . . XD Plus it actually completed their New Year’s resolution as well, so double bonus! Flush with success, they headed upstairs to check the trends on SimsTube, then make another gadget review for the masses. Still in their party wear, because why not. XD

-->Alice, meanwhile, came back from her jog with Fitness level 5 (also fulfilling New Skill Day!) and some Flirty feelings about how well her romantic relationships were going. In fact, the moodlet suggested that maybe she should write a book. . .so that’s exactly what I had her do! I mean, she is working on the Bestselling Author aspiration anyway, so. . . She promptly started “It Takes Two Sometimes,” a book of her musings on her polyamorous “vee” relationship with Victor and Smiler. :)

-->And Victor continued his pottering in the greenhouse -- harvesting his oversized crops (just medium sized this time!), replanting and fertilizing them all, harvesting his regular crops, and finally giving his bees some demiting treatment to see if that would calm them down. Did it work?

[godihatethiswebsite]

Tethered Bonds

✽ Poly 141 x f!reader (Omegaverse AU)

A lucky stroke of fate led you right into the arms of your alpha soulmates. But is it everything you dreamed it would be or just the continuation of a nightmare?

Main Masterlist ✽ Ao3

✽ Part Four - Hamster ball

See? The last update wasn't a fluke! :) Bit of a more easygoing chapter compared to the hecticness I've been subjecting our poor omega to. Bit more background on our girl. Give her a bit of breathing room before hopping back into more chaos.

Also: I've added a change to the reader's physicality. There's a reference to being underweight for medical reasons so I'm sorry if that takes any of you out of the experience. I try to not mess with that aspect, but I just felt it necessary given everything I put this girl through.

Trigger warnings: angst, depression, customer service, malnourishment

The dog survived.

Life had apparently decided against throwing you any more curveballs on your way back to the apartment – slushy roads and bad drivers notwithstanding (honestly, how could this many people forget what front wheel drive did on black ice and wet pavement?).

Densely populated areas gave way to suburban life as you drove the twenty minutes it took to escape the city center and arrive back into a world a little less crowded.

The area you resided in could generously be considered lower middle class. The crime rate was on the lower end of the spectrum though still a tinge too high for most members of polite society. Nothing too terribly outlandish; juvenile gang violence typical of a sizable city and the occasional asshat who decided the stuff in your car now belonged to him. But there was a police station a few blocks down the road from you that ran frequent patrols and the low level violence kept the rent at a decent affordability. 

There were less and less brownstones the further east you traveled, row house opulence giving way to multi level apartment buildings interspersed amongst a smattering of mid century moderns. Grass became a thing again, but only in long strips running parallel with the sidewalk – unless you were fortunate enough to own a modest front lawn on a small corner lot. Not that it was visible beneath the eight inches of snow that’d accumulated since it started falling late yesterday morning. 

It was only late afternoon by the time you were back in familiar territory, but this close to the impending holiday the local residents left their Christmas lights on 24/7 it seemed. Most abodes were adorned with at least humble decorations. 

Community members wrapped battery powered twinkle lights around the sparse barren elms, evergreen garland candy caning down metal street lamps, interlaced tinsel glimmering from passing headlights. Cheap vinyl stickers of cartoon snowmen and Santa's little helpers splattered across glass windows and sliding balcony doors in haphazard childish fashion. Mesh reindeer lawn ornaments and creepy animatronic statues recreating Saint Nick’s undertaking in kaleidoscopic – if not positively garish – displays. 

Muddied coir welcome mats proclaiming ‘Blessed Yule!’. A giant inflatable dinosaur taking up way too much space and spinning an oversized dreidel. You even gave props to the guy with a grinch head popping out the top of his chimney, smirking deviously at the passersby down below as if they were in on the secret. 

All walks of life celebrating the winter season in their own special ways. 

You couldn’t even remember the last time you bothered to hang a simple wreath.

You were fortunate enough to find decently close street parking as you pulled up to the curve, grateful the black Kia behind had left space enough for more than just a clown car. A group of rowdy boys bundled snug in thick mittens and hand-knit toques called for a ceasefire, taking your nearby arrival as an excuse to catch their breaths and stockpile more ammunition for the fierce battle they waged. Childish insults flew from behind snowy barricades as you stepped out of your car and onto the icy sidewalk.

It was a more than usual hassle making the trudge inside your apartment building. Normally you kept your grocery list light; manageable for the haul up three flights of stairs despite the fully functioning elevator. But with the previous week’s illness eating into more of your food supply than normal you’d been forced to compensate for the barren cupboards. 

Could you make multiple trips? Sure. Did you want to be outside in the blustery cold for longer than necessary? Nope. Hence the sight of you iron-manning your way through the building’s exterior entrance, clusters of bags biting into your arms even through your heavy winter coat, overstretched plastic really field testing its weight requirements and lumbering your already lethargic pace.

You were grateful that you’d remembered to double bag some of the heftier items, having almost made that same mistake the month prior if not for the shredding sound alerting you to the seam's fatal flaw. That’s all you needed was to be spending your evening on hands and knees mopping up shattered glass and pickle juice from grime-laden steps.

There's a sense of accomplishment as you haul the purchased goods over the threshold to your apartment, carefully depositing the burdensome load on the tile in front of your refrigerator, far too many to overwhelm your bite-sized kitchen table with. Doubling back to re-check the numerous door locks and deadbolts, you finally let loose a sigh as you kick off your snow boots and shuck the weighted material from your weary shoulders, hanging the ratty scarf on the hook next to it and giving your neck a chance to breathe again.

Rubbing the irritated skin hurt more than it helped. The damn thing was sensitive to abrasive material – only concealing it when absolutely necessary. Winter was easy; warmer months made the task trickier. Thankfully most people didn’t stare much at an omega with a patch of gauze taped over her neck. Newly bonded designations wore it as a badge of honor, proudly proclaiming to the world at large that they’d finally found their place amongst the upper echelons of packdom.

You, meanwhile, would have to be more careful in the future to wear turtlenecks if bombshell interactions were to become a normal occurrence. The last thing you needed were prying questions from nosy alphas.

A half gone tube of medicated ointment called your name from the bathroom counter, but the inflamed mating mark would have to wait until after you got the bulk of groceries put away. Canned items and other non perishables could be dealt with tomorrow. There was only so much strength left in your bones after a day like today.

The knock on your front door would have startled you worse if not for the preceding text message hailing the arrival. 

‘Paranoid’ would be the appropriate term. Practically overnight you found yourself turning into one of those god awful annoying conspiracy theorists that hide in the dark cobwebs of the internet, spouting schizophrenic ravings of lunacy and government surveillance, too wrapped up in their straight jackets for oxygen to reach their corrupted brains. 

It was hard not to be distrustful to any and all intruders of your dwelling, knowing full well the consequences that come from letting your guard down in a stunning display of naivety. The pinched tether on your bond reassured you of his distance, but he was far from being the only ill-intentioned alpha in a thousand mile radius.

Pulse fluttering like a baby bird and fingers flexing into trembling fists, you creep up to the peephole with all the finesse of a one-legged cat – despite knowing the face that would greet you on the other end. Per usual, the kind beta didn’t take it personally when you opened the door with barely enough space to let her inside, squeezing through the gap provided and scooting out of the way while you relatched your pacifying security measures.

All she offered was her usual glowing smile and a box of double stuf oreos.

“Hard day at therapy?”

Chloe had been an unexpected addition to the chaos of your life. For lack of in-unit appliances, the apartment complex housed a small laundry facility on the ground floor – free of charge, but awfully stifling come the summer months. Enough square footage that multiple people could use it at any given time, but not enough to hold even a quarter of the residents. On the weekdays, that damn thing could be packed tighter than a dented can of sardines (and smell just as fishy). It wasn’t unusual to find your neighbors making the trek of shame back to their rooms, hefting a still-soiled bag of clothing, waiting another hour or so in hopes of trying their hand at the laundry lottery all over again.

You were embarrassed to say you avoided the place like the plague for the first month after moving in. After all, what did it really matter? 

You didn’t leave your apartment at the time. There was no need for decorum – no call to impress. And as an unpacked omega with disabling agoraphobia it sounded like the worst sort of torture porn experience. It had taken running out of febreze and being on the phone with your dads to finally venture down there at three o’clock in the morning on a random Tuesday in hopes the facility would be barren enough that your musky basket could stop reeking up your closet. 

The scream you screamt upon turning the corner and finding another human being skulking around in the unlit void had you so sure your father’s were a hairs breadth away from calling down the fucking feds.

Turns out Chloe was a skittish thing a few years younger than you. A recent college graduate, this was her first real apartment outside of campus dorm life. But where you were up at the ass crack of dawn due to an anxiety-inducing aversion to civilization, she was down there to keep from running into the cute nerdy alpha across the hall and risking mortification at him peeping her dainty underthings.

Honestly you hadn’t been sure the smell of urine was coming from either laundry basket.

Once you’d calmed down enough to pull your fathers off the edge of booking the next flight down there to rough up some nonexistent predator, you’d managed to finish your chores on opposite sides of the room, neither engaging in any conversation beyond muffled apologies of humiliation. 

What followed was an uneasy truce born out of necessity, a silent acknowledgement that this would be a weekly safe space free from judgment and criticism. Silence turned to whispered greetings, whispers became timid banter, until eventually you were confessing in therapy to eating homemade peanut butter cookies on the floor in front of the laundry machines.

Now she was the only other person in this whole entire city besides Dr. Miranda that you could go to for advice and needed companionship. 

Originally you had no intention of exhausting any more of your social battery than had already been consumed. But therapy wasn’t for another week and you had too much bubbling inside to be contained by the cramped confines of your studio apartment. And Chloe was considerate enough that she knew not to overstay her welcome, her own introverted alarm clock ringing about the same time as yours.

“If only that had been the hard part,” you replied with a sigh, taking the parcel of outstretched goods and moseying on over to your butt shaped indent on the far end of the couch.

The sound of creaky hinges and clattering plastic informed you of Chloe’s detour to the kitchen. “Has that rust-bucket jalopy of yours finally gone to the great big scrap metal in the sky?”

Everyone’s a critic.

“How about we don’t put that out into the universe thank you very much.” Shoving a whole cookie in your mouth, you gratefully accept the cold glass of milk she passes over before taking up a spot on the cushion next to you, grabbing at her own treat from the open pack.

The mess of red curls atop her head and the loud pattern of her knit rainbow sweater deceptively implied a boisterous personality. Bright green eyes. A healthy dusting of freckles. Blue corduroy pants still smudged with gold leaf. One look at her 5 foot 11 stature and you’d think she was some sort of artistic fairy, flitting about from flower to flower like a social hummingbird. In truth she’d gone to school for fine arts, but in preparation for a career in conservation – something quiet and away from the harsh critics where she could help express someone else's ideas instead of her own.

Her soft hazelnut scent matches her sympathetic smile, always patient and warm with you. “Does it have something to do with why you smell like a latte? Oh dear–please tell me no one spilled hot coffee on you today!”

You duck your head from her doe eyed worry and concerned frown of dread, focusing on the cold bite of milk on your fingers as you plunge another sugary morsel into your clear plastic cup. 

As toxic as it might have been, you couldn’t bring yourself to wash the scent of alpha from the pores of your skin.

“Chloe, I…” Here goes nothing. “I met someone yesterday…”

For the second time in less than four hours you found yourself spilling your heart to a friendly ear. 

She heard all of it. The supermarket run-in. Tantalizing lemon. Silky coconut. Devastating chocolate. Therapy. The coffee shop mishap. Being gentled by a complete stranger.

The promise kept safe in your electronic device. 

Where Dr. Miranda had broached the topic with a level-headed sense of therapeutic resolution, Chloe had all but clutched her pearls the longer your tantalizing tale was spun. She wore her expressions the way she wore her heart on her sleeve, squeezing the life out of a proffered couch pillow in a way that made you hope she didn’t have any pets at home.

“How could he possibly expect any of this to not come crashing down in a fiery hellscape of cataclysmic fury that would put Dante’s inferno to shame?”

Can you tell she went to catholic school?

“I mean… it's not like I caught him off guard technically,” you try to bargain. “Like yeah, today’s meeting wasn’t exactly on purpose, but they would’ve had a whole night to discuss things amongst themselves. Maybe they just reached some sort of weird agreement with her?”

She bites her lip to hide the sympathetic frown. “Do you really believe that though?”

No. No you didn’t.

It wasn’t hard to put yourself in her shoes considering the thick iron cable anchoring you to another. If that bond came with passion... if you knew the cloying taste of devotion – the idolatry that comes from having your molecules grafted onto a lover’s DNA – you’d shred every muscle strand in your body, tear skin from bone with bloodied teeth to keep what was coveted.

And here you were. The other woman.

Suddenly the chocolate dessert didn’t taste so appetizing.

At your lack of a meaningful answer, she unknowingly goes for the throat.

“Perhaps you should tell them–”

“No.” 

The ice in your tone brokers no room for argument, instantly regretting the bite behind it as you watch her flinch back into the cushions with a meek whine. 

Your expression softens in guilt. Chloe is just trying her best to help you navigate an otherwise impossible scenario. Her suggestion doesn’t come from a place of cruelty, only one of care. Even if it does speak of ignorance.

Not that she didn't still try.

“Wouldn’t you want to know if the roles were reversed?”

“And what good would that do?” you press far more gently this time, the acid of pain climbing up the back of your throat. “No matter what they say there’s no tangible future for us. That ship has well and truly sailed – I know that now. My destiny was signed with an iron pen and the deed says I belong to him.”

Your voice quivers on the last word, the sting of acceptance cutting into flesh with a rusty barbed wire. You never thought there could be a feeling worse than hopelessness.

“Telling them will only ensure that both parties suffer for another’s twisted scheme,” you continue past the lump in your throat, “and I won’t subject them to the burden that should be only mine to bear. I refuse to let them live with that guilt.”

Maybe it’s her beta upbringing that keeps her from fully understanding the colossal weight of putting your bonded through such inner turmoil. Chloe will never know what it means to share someone's emotions across an unwavering connection. Pack life isn’t barred from her, but the same primal urges that draw us towards our mates are nothing but strings of thread easily pruned. 

Truthfully most betas never want it. To them, we all drew the short end of the straw; being forced into subjugation by ancient instincts that never shed their skin after the last ice age. 

After the eternally looping rollercoaster that's been holding you prisoner the past four years, you can't say you disagree with them anymore.

“...maybe they chew with their mouths open.”

The huff she pulls from your chest is genuine, catching you off guard with the attempt at levity, the small roast doing its job of diffusing the atmosphere. Her extemporaneous remark reflects the giggles in her eyes begging you to play along.

“Bet they don’t wash their buttcracks either,” you add with a half-grin after a few moments of quiet, relishing in the way she covers her mouth to stifle a snort. Her energy is endearing, granting you leave to feed off the sunrays of her carefree aura, unblemished by the malice of a hateful underbelly, continuing for the next couple minutes that her presence lingers.

If only laughter was all it took to make everything better.

Consciousness greets you like a lifelong friend – one waiting to welcome you into outstretched arms, promising comfort and geniality with its disarming smile, swaddling you in a blanket so thick and plush it cradles you like a pregnant mother’s womb. It beckons with a silvery tongue, promising a joyful reunion as you give yourself over freely under the guise of a fresh start.

All the easier for it to slip a knife between your ribs. 

You should’ve known better.

Sleep hasn’t been your ally since the night before the incident. Rest is not restful; it is a time where the walls between protection and abuse are at their thinnest. Where the toxic sludge of your connection oozes through the cracks like bubbling tar and coats your insides with its virulent adhesive. It chokes you with its noxious miasma, seeping into dreams and disturbing the regenerative process vital to your health.

Each day starts the same – dealing with the consequences of life on a strained leash.

Awareness comes into focus next like a camera in the exclusion zone, grainy and crackling under the effects of radioactivity while spreading like the beginnings of cancer through the pores of your skin. It clings around the edges, lethargic in its letting go, giving way only to the melodic chiming of your phone’s alarm that might as well be set to a booming fog horn. 

Eyelashes crusty with dried salt crystals peel apart like fly paper, pupils fully dilated as the blackout curtains remove the need for constriction. The rumpled towel beneath you leaves tender spots on your back from where it bunched up in the night – a result of the fitful writhing when the nightmares your mind guards you from remembering leave your body feverful and drenched, soaking through the lightweight sheets and condensing in a thin layer of slimy moisture.

And the nausea.

God, the nausea.

The condition was a constant in your life, but its disruption was the worst during the early hours of the day.

Movement requires a delicate balance first thing in the morning. Jostle your body too much and the empty bin wedged between your bed and your nightstand gets reacquainted with the bile of your stomach (they’re apparently in an intimate relationship that you’re just sandwiched between like an awkward third wheel).

Problem is, barring the use of hefty restraints, it's impossible to know which side of the bed you’ll be waking up on. Literally. 

Some days you find yourself facing the drab interior of your studio apartment rather than covered window panes, knowing the energy required to roll over towards the small nightstand will likely result in the emptying of your insides. Sleeping on your back had potential, but your form preferred to curl in on itself for lack of anything else to bring it comfort.

Lady Luck had apparently seen enough of your mental breakdowns the past forty eight hours to grant you a reprieve, taking pity on your string of misfortunes as the first thing your eyes take in upon blinking free from sand is the heavy satin of your window coverings keeping in the dark – some lavender pattern to help match the rest of your nesting materials. They’re still fresh out the box after all these years, though the accumulation of filth would tell you otherwise, dust bunnies taking up residence on the weighted linen.

Your furnishings haven’t been bathed in sunlight since the moving van.

The well-loved bottle of Zofran sits in its spot on the corner of your nightstand, next to your still ringing phone and a robin's egg stanley, a glass picture frame shoved in the far corner on the other side of your table lamp.

Still wrapped in a thick fog of drowsiness, leaden muscles flex and groan as your arm stretches the short distance, ears taking priority and fingers tapping at the illuminated screen until they locate the damn snooze button. Popping the small oval pill comes next, chasing it with lukewarm water before burrowing back down into the soft minky goodness of your comforter. 

You're awake an hour before you need to be, but not to get anything done. No rejuvenating shower. No balanced breakfast and a half hour of yoga. Just adjusting to the abject misery your bond greets you with every day as a not so gentle reminder of the alpha you left behind. 

It’s a constant struggle to remind yourself that the suffering is worth it for the lifetime of abuse from which you escaped. Better to be tormented by a path you chose than one unwillingly taken.

About forty minutes go by before the medication kicks in enough to allow you freedom of movement, pulling yourself from the tangles of your bedding with aching joints and low fuel reserves. Walking into the bathroom, you squint against the blinding overhead fluorescents, rubbing the spots from your eyes as you take in your frumpy reflection.

There’s a photograph next to your bed that you haven’t glanced at in a few months. Six familiar faces beaming into a camera lens somewhere high in the mountains. A family vacation from eight years ago; the best summer of your life. 

That girl in the picture is nowhere to be found.

Spiritless eyes meet your gaze in the glass, early crows feet forming from periods of prolonged stress. A bone deep exhaustion reflected in your undereye bags, the dull pallor of your complexion. The frizziness of unmoisturized locks begging for a drink. Wind chapped lips and an eternal frown. 

The oversized shirt hangs baggy on your form, once belonging to your brother but now in your possession. If you lifted up the garment you could practically count the ribs, a once healthy layer of fat and muscle cannibalized by famished cells and underutilization. It's hard to keep on weight when your stomach rejects the nourishment you try to provide.

If this is the empty shell you’ve become a full continent away from him then it’s hard to imagine what lifeless husk of a creature you might’ve deteriorated into under his brand of care. 

There’s no more energy left by the time you do your business and finish brushing your teeth, knowing what few bolts remain will have to go towards the impending headache of customer service. Taming your unruly hair will just have to wait until later – if at all.

You flick the lights on as you pass, trudging on shaky legs to the cabinets above the microwave. There’s still too much unease in your tummy for your usual coffee order, opting for a mug of herbal tea to help settle the irritated organ, a spoonful of honey cutting through the mild bitterness. Settling on a sleeve of poptarts for a lazy breakfast, you lumber your way over towards the couch and the awaiting annoyances.

Opening shifts were always the worst. 

Originally you’d approached the company with open availability in hopes of bettering your chances at landing a remote job. In those days, commuting to a location had been out of the question. It took months of submitting applications – relying solely on your family for all your expenses – before someone finally gave you an opportunity to rejoin the workforce.

(You wept the day you received the offer from HR. Having even a sliver of autonomy returned to you after a tumultuous period without it was as the first melting snow of a long envisioned spring).

Unfortunately it meant you were handed the hours no one else wanted to take. Most days that was the early shifts. 

It’s not like you work a whole hell of a lot. The job itself is only part time after all and fairly easy; fourteen hours max per week. But you’d quickly learned that the later you were scheduled, the clearer your brain was to focus, the better you performed overall. 

Now if only the big wigs at corporate would allow you to update your availability. When last you’d scrounged up enough courage to broach the topic to your immediate supervisor you were promptly informed that there was no current flexibility to your role and, when pressed, sent a look via Zoom that clearly said don't push it.

So much for ‘warm family environment’.

A small rolling side table acts as your makeshift desk, the apartment too cramped for something proper no matter how many attempts to tetris the layout. One of your fathers had come up with the brilliant solution while shopping at ikea for new end tables, spotting the piece of furniture and shipping it out to your location. You’d had to brave the awkward visit of the buff delivery man for a signature – hiding behind the door jamb like a sketchy criminal – but the purchase had been well worth it for how cluttered your poor kitchen table had previously looked, a jumbled mess of pens and wires, certifiably hazardous with its lengthy extension cord.

Armed with soothing chamomile and a warm knit blanket thrown over your lap, you boot up your laptop and log onto the program that would keep you chained to it for the next six hours.

Ask anyone that deals with customers directly: Christmas is the least wonderful time of the year.

Garbled phone calls over shitty receptions. The droning monotony of preplanned scripts. Old bitties recounting eight decades of family drama. Mass hysteria around shipping delays. ‘Happy Birthday Steve’ and the audible slick of his palm. Entitled socialites for whom the word ‘please’ never came preinstalled in their gold filigree hoity-toity dictionaries. 

The fifteen minute break is almost insulting. As if anyone can decompress in such a meager timespan. It’s no wonder why people used to chainsmoke their way through the stress of their jobs.

You try to remind yourself of the before times – the trials and tribulations that came from previous employments. Long grueling hours spent pent up in bustling kitchens, the dinner rush on crab leg nights testing your arm strength and patience for slow steamers. Pushy roofing salesmen harping over impoverished neighborhoods. Car guys calling you toots and insisting on being assisted by a ‘real professional’.

This job was by far the most laid back. No fussing over business casual, no extroverted coworkers crowding your space, no bosses micromanaging for the sake of being assholes. You were living a cushy life by comparison.

But then your mind wanders to Jose on the third floor kitchen, busy doing prep work for the various departments; a kind man once he warmed up to you and found you competent enough to last. Always sneaking you tender bites of grilled meats and a bowl of creamy lobster bisque.

Nyle bringing you ladies in the office a round of Starbucks when he came in for mandatory meetings. Sharing music with Stacy and gabbing about just aired episodes of your favorite tv show. Heather bringing in fresh blueberry bear claws from the local bakery near her home.

Going to the irish pub across the street with the guys in finance that knew the owners, getting drunk off free whiskey and cider on Friday nights. All smiles and laughter as you twirl across the dance floor to a live band performing hits from musicians like Flogging Molly and Great Big Sea…

…and you realize just how much you took for granted. That there’s a palpable difference between surviving and living.

You don’t even notice you’re six minutes over break until your laptop pings from someone trying to get in touch with you, startling you out of melancholic reminiscence and bringing you back to a somber present that longs for the taste of livelihood.

That time has ended; those figures mere ghosts of a past better left forgotten in the vaults of your memory.

Now, you make a small but tidy living solving other people's problems a few hours a week. Enough to pay for personal bills, groceries, and the occasional indulgence while your fathers provide the bulk of your utilities and the sum of your rent. Your lost independence used to bother you more, but the thought of a homeless shelter quickly silenced your tongue.

Your cellphone reads one o’clock by the time you're freed from servitude, happy to be logging off as you push the rolling setup back out of the way. The air bubbles between the contours of your spine pop and crackle as you rise to your feet, ignoring the rush of lightheadedness from six hours remaining stationary. Resisting the urge to itch at the healing scab on the side of your neck, you pad into the kitchen to whip up a turkey sandwich – cautiously optimistic on the inclusion of juicy pickles – before plopping back down in your usual spot.

The acidity doesn’t seem to upset your stomach any further, allowing you to munch in peace on the simple scrapings of lunch, scrolling through the kindle app on your phone for something to occupy your time with.

There’s never much to do around here when the people in your life are busy living their own. Your family checks in on you every so often, catching you up on the goings-on in the quiet neighborhood, your father taking the opportunity to gush about his lego collection to someone other than his partner for a change. You miss the camaraderie that came with building the Death Star.

Despite living hundreds of miles away, their calls always made you feel as if you were gathered around the sectional in the warm lit interior of the sprawling living room, Christmas tree glowing by the light of the fire, a hot cup of cocoa and the merriment of family.

The same couldn’t be said for your younger brother Alex.

Ever since moving out at eighteen he'd become quite a prick, a beta complex a mile wide that only got worse when he surrounded himself with the wrong kinda crowd. The loss of his once fervent companionship had devastated you. After the accident that brought your parents to an early grave, you’d kept each other afloat through turbulent waves of depression, tidal waves of grief. Six became four, but – even though that wound would never fully heal – you still had the strength of their love to turn to when forgone memories played like black and white film.

But after that last argument…

Four became three.

It's been years since you last had any type of contact outside the occasional cheap greeting card – just another notch added to your mile long grinchmas belt come the holidays.

Fuck him. 

Shaking yourself out of that spiraling rabbit hole, you turned back to the task of entertainment at hand. Since you didn’t feel like spending any more time on the phone listening to idle chatter than you already had today, you settled for choosing a book at random from your extensive TBR, diving into a medieval fantasy where brave warriors slayed evil dragons and an honorable knight could still save a princess. 

The minute hand goes round and round.

Dinner is as simple an affair as lunch; a cheap frozen pizza popped in the oven adding an extra layer of warmth to the already balmy interior. There’s no need for a plate as you pull it off the wire rack onto the cardboard box it came in, gooey cheese bubbling hot and steamy, sizzling toppings shiny with bright orange grease, savory aromas wafting as they ride the circulation of the antiquated heating system. 

Years of battling chronic fatigue have made you crafty, cutting corners on labor with gathered tips and tricks accumulated over hours of lengthy research. There’s no need to add to your pile of dishes; no plates or utensils to scrub free of dried food particles. Just you and your fingers tearing through the saucy meal chunk by chunk.

Dr. Miranda tells you it's all about the little victories. The moments of accomplishment no matter how insignificant. Doesn’t matter how you get the job done so long as it happens. Roll out of bed? That’s a win. A sleeve of ritz crackers for a meal? Glad you got sustenance. Just because you weren’t claiming a nobel prize didn’t mean your triumphs were any less important. 

Didn’t leave much in the way of riveting stimulation though. Just acclimatizing you to existing in a hamster ball where the difference between day and night is as little as the am or pm on the clock. 

After all, it wasn’t like your body signaled a change in energy levels. There’s no ‘getting tired’ when you never wake up.

The only time you ever felt a sense of normalcy was when you started the process of getting ready for bed, pinpoint focus narrowing in on the task of fixing your nest. Logic shuts down and gut feeling takes the reins. You lose yourself in the fussing over placement of plush fleece and textured sherpa, jersey knit sheets and squishmallow plushies. Weighted quilt blankets and cloud-fluffy pillows of various shapes and sizes, the assortment of pastel pinks and lush earthy greens giving off the enchanted forest vibes held dear to your heart. 

It wasn’t large or luxurious by any means, but the few modest pieces you did have were plenty enough for the cozy space, strewn across the full sized bed in an organized haphazard chaos understood only by the omega instincts that dictate your actions. 

Only, there’s something wrong…

You lament the smell of mildew as your nose breathes in the cloth of your pillowcase, whining in dejection at the offense to your delicate olfactory senses and pawing at the material in shame. 

An omega’s nest is a vital part of the care and keeping of their fragile emotional state. Oftentimes they’re seen as a reflection of their owner's inner consciousness and a handy tool to monitor their anxiety levels on a day to day basis. An unkempt nest can not only signal deeper depression, but if neglected for too long may result in bodily dysregulation that can affect them even right down to a molecular level, throwing hormones out of whack and causing real physical illness. 

Your nest hasn’t been properly cleaned in far too many months – no doubt adding to the high levels of stress that already permeate your everyday life. The sacred space that’s supposed to be your safe haven acts as just another graphic reminder that he’s taken everything from you. There's no true relaxation in your life because of it. 

For what was the point of washing the sweat-stained fabric if there’s no stopping it getting soiled again the following night?

Pulling the musky sheets up to just below your chin, you stare blankly at the evidence of what happens when you get your hopes up, sitting plugged into the charger on the corner of your nightstand.

The phone hasn’t rang once. 

You’ve been religiously checking the screen all day. Turned the volume from vibrate to blaring. Unclicked ‘do not disturb’ mode (turns out even telemarketers think you’re a waste of time). The device went everywhere with you, whether it was ten feet to the bathroom or six inches across the couch. Your desperation might have been otherwise embarrassing, but there was no worry of judgment besides your own in the guarded solitude of your apartment.

He'd given you a thimble of hope, and you were clinging to it like the last drop of water.

Whether it be a call or text; you didn’t know. But he promised you... promised you… that you’d be hearing from him soon. Threatened you against inaction on your part. And you’d just believed him. Believed that even for a moment – some tiny fraction of oblivion – there could exist a world where you didn’t have to feel quite so fucking alone.

What exactly has he been up to? Some prior commitment that pulled him from his phone? Maybe he’s just stuck at work all day? But then surely he doesn’t pull twelve hour shifts. Not like you found out their given occupations yet. Which means he’s gotta be sick, right? The weather’s been atrocious and you hadn’t physically seen him get in a car when he left. 

Shit! He went home smelling like you. How did the pack react? 

How did she react? 

They didn’t get into a fight did they? She probably forced him to delete your contact info. God, you were so selfish putting them through this mess. But hadn't John been selfish too in wanting to keep you around? Was that really a pack decision?

The tears culminating in your eyes were pathetic. Acid rain bleaching your pillowcase in big caustic globules, seeping into the fabric and burning through the thin membrane of your cheeks. Bitter rage tainted the half formed excuses, corrupting like malware into personal betrayal.

How could you be so foolish? What part of ‘you’re not allowed to be happy’ did you not comprehend? Hadn’t you already learned not to shoot for the stars, much less the occupants of unit 2B?! 

Poor, stupid omega.

You grasped your chest as if that could stop whatever clawed beast was burrowing its way past your ribcage to dig out a hole and lay its clutch. Flicking the bedside lamp off brought you as much darkness outside as there was feasting on your entrails and gorging itself for a long unforgiving winter.

Curling up in your repugnant nest, you couldn’t keep your heart from shattering as each teardrop extinguished the sputtering flame of hope.

You never got around to fixing your hair.

<< ✿ Previous ✿ <<

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Hi, please, please, please! I need a premise where Simon finds a pregnancy test in the house he shares with his wife believing it is hers, upset and anxious he asks her for explanations, without giving her the time to give an answer. The test was his girl's sister's ❤️ :')

A Good Father

Ghost x Wife!Reader

Ghost is anxious about being a father.

SFW, Extreme Fluff, Husband!Ghost, Wife!Reader, Comfort, Pregnancy Scares, Domestic, Softness, Vulnerability, Awkward Conversations, Innocent Misunderstandings, I'm reluctant to say there's humor, Scarcely Proofread, Drabble

Personally, I do feel like Ghost would be flustered if he found out his wife was pregnant with his first child. HOWEVER, I don't think he would act rude or distant or cold. Not on purpose. This is how I interpret that I guess. And thank you anon, this was an interesting topic. If you have anymore please don't be shy! ^^

Masterlist

It'd been an accident when he found it, and the kind of accident that could put a man six feet under if you weren't careful.

It was a sunny and rare fall day in which Simon had been let off work before you for once; a welcome change to his usual routine, as he'd been looking forward to surprising you.

He started with the kitchen, knowing it had been one of your least favorite places to clean. He washed and put away the dishes before wiping down the counters, making quick work with sweeping before mopping. In the blink of an eye he'd already straightened up the living room, which made the dining room light work in comparison. All that had remained was the bathroom, your second least favorite room to clean.

When he arrived home and saw you were gone, he'd thought to himself -- What would be a better surprise than coming home to your man and a clean home? It hadn't been as often as he liked where he was given such an opportunity, so he jumped at the chance without question the second the idea popped into his mind.

There hadn't been much to contend with, a few misplaced clothes and some used towels. He'd just begun picking things up when he'd suddenly heard something small clatter against the bathroom tiles. Finally he saw the tiny, long piece of white plastic sitting tucked between the toilet and the counter -- A pregnancy test.

At first glance Simon froze, unsure as to what exactly he was even looking at. It hadn't been every day he was faced with these sorts of things; you'd only recently broken the record for being the longest relationship he's been in. So when he saw it, his mind hadn't wanted to jump to conclusions. Not at first...

...But when he picked it up off the floor and felt the thing in his hands, it was as the whole world had stopped. His brown eyes skimmed over that red plus sign at the corner of the test and reality felt anew. A positive result.

A number of emotions ran through Simon, though none could be more certain than the sudden shakiness to his grip and the tightening of his jaw. A pang of nausea coarsed through him, soon followed by a sudden guilt for that. He must have stood in that bathroom for a solid three minutes before his thoughts had somewhat gathered...

Pregnant. You were pregnant, and you didn't tell him. Why? Had you not planned on keeping it, or were you simply just waiting to break the news to him?

Robotically, naturally, Simon finds himself continuing with what he was doing before, throwing the test away and continuing with cleaning. He hadn't known what else to do really; anything else and he may just storm out and call you about it.

But no, he wouldn't do that. He couldn't. His emotions are just out of sorts now and he's confused. There wouldn't be a point in channeling that confusion into anger and taking it out on you, especially since you're the one with the answers.

The final thing to clean had been the mirror. As Simon began to wipe the glass down, he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection. There he sees the battered husk he barely recognized at times. A father.

It felt unreal. Both too good to be true and a waking nightmare. He'd always dreamed of being a father some day, perhaps, in a different life which allowed him to be a part of his child's world in the proper way that he had desired. Some parts had been out of spite of his own father, having had some subliminal need to prove to a ghost what a real parent looks like. Other parts of him genuinely longed for a family of his own, and something he could be a part of from the start and see through to the end. To be a father would make him the happiest man alive.

Yet he wasn't ready, not now. Not in ways in which he felt he could really be of any use to you and your child. He feared every bit that could replicate his own childhood into his life today. There had still been so much of himself he'd felt needed to be set right before bringing someone into this world under him. He'd just wanted this moment to be perfect...

Simon didn't bring it up when you got home. Seeing the excitement on your face to see him nearly made him forget about the whole ordeal entirely. But it lingered on his mind like a heavy weight, and you could see it.

You asked him if he was OK, and despite himself he'd told you he was fine, only tired. He'd hoped that perhaps you might bring it up yourself, though you don't, merely continuing about the evening as usual.

Dinner was awkward, mainly do to Simon's stoic behavior, even moreso than usual. He stayed up to watch a movie with you, though he hadn't said much at all during it, forgoing his usual jokes and one-liners.

It hadn't been until you'd crawled into bed next to him that he finally spoke, though it hadn't been what you expected to hear.

"Do you think I'd make a good father?"

The question catches you off guard and you laugh and little, rotating yourself in his arms and resting your chin on his chest to look at him. From there you've felt his fluttering heartbeat dancing anxiously against your palms.

"Of course I do, Si'," you say. "Why?"

He's quiet again. Even in the dark you know those brown eyes are sifting through the room, looking anywhere but where you are. His hands over you shuffle slightly, and he sighs. "I have my doubts sometimes."

"I don't know why," you smile. "You're one of the best men I've ever met. I've always thought you'd make good "dad" material."

Simon can't help but smile. "Is that right?"

"I mean you've already got the dad jokes down," you tease. "What more do you need?"

You both laugh lightly to each other, and Simon feels a warmth grow in him that only you seem able to bring forth. Even when you know something is on his mind, you go out of your way to make him smile first. It's these reasons he loved you.

"Is this your way of saying you're interested in... trying?"

Unsure of what ruse you were playing now, and no longer being able to hold himself back any longer, Simon sits up, signaling to you that this was about to become something much deeper than anticipated.

"No," he says rather coldly. Too blunt for what he'd intended.

"Oh," you say, unable to hide the disappointment in you tone. You then look up to him, confused. "Is something the matter? You've been acting odd since I got home."

"I'm just wondering when you're going to break the news to me."

"The news?"

"Your first step into motherhood."

You pause. "My... what? What are you on about?"

"I found the pregnancy test."

You pause again, audibly making a confused "oop" noise as you tried to figure out what it was your husband was talking about. "Pregnancy test?"

The confusion in your tone now only makes Simon pause. "Yes," he says. "A pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test."

You're sitting there racking through your brain now, trying to recall when it was you took this said test. Having brought it up, all the thoughts Simon's had little time to sort through can't help but spill from him now.

"I'm not mad," he leads with. "I'm just... I wasn't...

"Oh!" You interject suddenly, a light bulb going off over your head. "That was my sister's!"

"...Wha'?"

"My sister came over this morning. She didn't want our mom to find it so I said she could do it here," you explain, before chuckling. "Though I'm gonna have to yell at her later since can't clean up after herself... Didn't mean to spook you though, love."

Simon sits there silent and frozen, still processing the last minute. "...So you're not pregnant then?"

"No," you laugh. "Not that I know of anyway."

No. He won't be a father after all. If he'd felt his emotions swirling earlier, they've torn into a twister now. He won't be a father.

It disappointed him, despite his reluctance earlier. Had he been looking forward to it more as the day went on? This was for the best, nonetheless. Now at least he could breathe again.

"Fuckin' hell," Simon lets out a heavy sigh, a boulder of stress dropping from his shoulders like a landslide. "Don't scare me like that, love. Y'nearly did me in with that."

You smirk, climbing back onto Simon until your legs were straddling him against the bed. You lean forward, letting your nose brush his and his breath detail his presence to you in the dark. Before you've kissed him, you linger there for a spell, simply marinating in the moment.

"I still think you'd make a wonderful father, Si'."

You feel him sigh, his body sinking comfortably beneath you, as you've felt his callous palms cup your cheeks gently.

"You'd make a beautiful mother."

"I'm still up for trying," you say. "If you think we're ready, I mean..."

Simon pulls you in, until your lips have found his, locking in its familiar ways. Between the soft pecks he'd left, he spoke to you softly, holding you close.

"We're not getting any younger."

(╹◡◠)

[trashogram]

More HCY Fluff:

*** ‘—Full of shine and full of sparkle Close your eyes and see it glisten, Cha-arlie Listen, Charlieeee!’

Lucifer leaned in with a smile that split into a full grin as Charlie wiggled and giggled in his hands. Water was splashed here and there in the little sink-turned-baby-bath, and the Devil was grateful he’d positioned their little cathedral radio far away from its range.

The baby wriggled some more when Lucifer’s eyes flickered away for even the briefest second. Her love for attention wasn’t novel considering her lineage, but it was ever so endearing. Lucifer very, very gently washed the suds from her rich mop of hair.

‘Put on your Sunday clothes, there's lots of world out there… hm hm hmm…’ The King bobbed his head from side-to-side with the radio. ‘Hmm hm hm— in white, In a perfumed night Where the lights are bright as the stars!’

When all the suds were scrubbed away, Lucifer lifted the baby up and onto the nest of folded towels he’d made. He laughed as Charlotte instantly kicked around with her roly-poly legs. Who knew babies had so much energy!

She whined and Lucifer answered it with a coo. “Aww, it’s ok Char Char. Almost done!”

The new father focused on wiping away the bath water from Charlie’s apple cheeks and out of her fleecy hair. Instantly, the tiny antichrist smiled, chasing after his hand in the fibers of the cloth. Her tail instinctively wound around his wrist as much as it could, keeping him close.

After snuggly wrapping her up, Lucifer relented and took his daughter back into his arms, cradling her close.

‘—And we'll close the town in a whirl—’ He spun on his feet as carefully as he could before planting a big, dramatic kiss on the giggly girl’s cheek, ‘But we won't come home until we've kissed a girl!’

With Charlie laughing, and the sink draining, Lucifer soft-shoed out of the grand bathroom with the radio floating behind him.

Just in time, you were walking through the door, Razzle and Dazzle trotting at your heels. That technological doohickey that you’d carried around to run things was clutched in your hands, and many more were balanced on Dazzle’s back behind you as if he were a pack mule. Razzle was pushing a basket of scrolls forward opposite his brother.

Lucifer would have frowned had you not started humming along to the radio, most likely unconsciously. And, as soon as you looked up and saw his waiting grin as well as the bundle in his arms, you put it down on the nearest surface.

Another thing to chalk up to the ‘like father, like daughter’ saying: Charlie sensed your presence and squealed madly, happily, as soon as she spotted you. Lucifer had to shift the little girl in his arms to prevent her from flying out of his grip in her pursuit of you.

They met you in the middle of the bedroom, and Lucifer took a moment to soak up your appraising look. It was silly, but he felt proud presenting himself and your freshly cleaned child, all cozy and ready for bed.

“Oop!” Lucifer snapped his fingers together (barely, still preoccupied with holding the bouncing infant) and Charlie was fully clothed in a butter-yellow onesie. “Ready for bed now, ma’am!”

You snickered. “At ease, soldier.”

Lucifer smiled so widely it practically hurt, but his heart was light and his life was full. You gathered him up in your arms, with Charlie slowly settling down between the two of you, and the King couldn’t help the lovesick sigh that escaped him.

‘And this I'm positive of That we won't come home That we won't come home No we won't come home until we fall in love!’

[theemporium]

Poly marauders looking after reader after she faints <3333

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

You hadn’t meant to do it, though the boys liked to act like that was the case.

It just so happened that between the sleeping in that caused you to rush to get ready and make it to your first class with seconds to spare, working on the essay you had been procrastinating for the last few weeks that was due the next day in during your free period and lunch, and accidentally getting sucked into helping Pandora with a few errands you felt too bad saying no to, you hadn’t eaten a single thing all day. Or drank enough water.

You felt off as you walked back towards Gryffindor Tower, having missed dinner by the time you bid Pandora goodbye. There was a nauseous feeling in the pit of your stomach but you waved that off as general anxiety. You knew the work you had been putting off for ages was starting to bite you in the ass a little, it wasn’t odd for you to feel the stress starting to nibble at you.

But then the staircases were moving a little more crazy than usual. And then you realised you had been standing in the same spot for the last two minutes. And then the world went black before you could even take in the fact the world was spinning around you. 

You woke up in a bed in the infirmary, three bodies slumped around you in different but amusing positions. 

Remus had taken it upon himself to actually get a chair, seating himself the closest to you with his head resting by your hand. 

Sirius was on the floor, a stolen pillow tucked under his head as he snored away, looking peaceful despite the position. 

James had all but curled himself at the bottom of your bed, though you suspected he was probably taking up more space than he was. 

It took one nudge of your foot to wake James up, the sudden jostle taking him by surprise and causing him to fall off the bed, which woke Sirius up with a yelp which caused Remus’ head to shoot up. All three boys looked momentarily confused and bleary-eyed before their heads whirled to you. In an instant, they were swarming you. 

“Merlin, sweetheart, you scared us!”

“You gave us a heart attack, love, we ran here the second Minnie told us you were in the infirmary wing.

“How could you not have anything all day? You need to take care of yourself, darling.”

“Are your pillows okay? We can find fluffier ones.”

“She needs another blanket.”

“Are you in pain, love? Should we get Pomfrey—”

“Merlin, breathe,” you told them, though your lips twitched at the way they surrounded you and instantly started fussing over you. It warmed your heart, though you knew that would wear away once their mother hen nonsense started getting ridiculous. “I’m okay.”

Remus’ eyes narrowed. “Says the girl who just fainted.”

“Whoops?” you said with a sheepish expression.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” Remus grumbled with a shake of his head. 

“Are you sure your pillows are okay? Because I can—” 

You instantly caught James’ hand, intertwining it with your own as you pressed a kiss on the back of his hand. “I promise I’m fine, Jamie.”

“Just want my girl to be comfortable,” he murmured as he kissed the crown of your head. 

“I swear I’m okay,” you assured them.

“Good, then you can budge over,” Sirius said, and you laughed as the boy crawled under the sheets with you, the bed definitely not big enough for two but Sirius didn’t seem bothered by the squeeze. “You scared us, now we gotta take turns staying with you to make sure you eat.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t you think this is all a bit dramatic?”

All three boys shot you a look.

“Merlin, this is gonna be a long night,” you grumbled as you leaned your head on Sirius’ shoulder.

“Most people wouldn’t consider being on bed rest with three men at your bend and will be all that bad,” Remus mused. 

“Most people haven’t had to deal with you three,” you shot back.

Remus grinned. “Say what you want, sweetheart, but you’re not leaving our sight until we know you’re better.”

.

[fortunatelyyoungbarbarian]

Can we talk about Yue?

Let's just say there is a world where she doesn't have to sacrifice herself for Tui - because my girl deserves so much better like look at her.

But also, imagine the interactions she could have with all the other characters!!

Also, for that point, I'll be ignoring the fact that she'd most likely wouldn't leave the northern watertribe because responsibilities and her parents and jade jade. Let's just say it's her time for teenage rebellion and she sneaks off with the gaang or something. Idk.

Like she'd be there for the character development for Aang, Katara and Sokka (even Zuko).

But imagine she meets Toph!

Toph 'fuck you and what society/ my parents expect from me, I won't be put into a damn box because I'm not delicate porcelain to be put up on a shelf, I'll go kick ass and show people who I am, who I really am' Beifong?

That sounds so interesting! Like their parallels? Both being kept 'protected' and being put into positions they don't want and don't like (Toph being keept in a cage so to say and Yue being married off to someone neither she nor he loves).

But also, Yue is what Tophs parents see as a perfect daughter. She is soft spoken, elegant, meek and such. She is what Toph isn't.

But Toph gets free. She runs away and becomes happy and free.

I feel like they'd be such good friends once they get over the struggles. Toph would go commit some chaos and Yue would just smile and come along.

Imagine she meets Azula.

She's basically the opposite of Yue but they both have the same royal devotion. Also, Azula is a girl and it doesn't matter, she's respected and she's badass. That must be a culture shock for Yue.

Also, I think Azula and Yue have quite the interesting parallels as well. Both of them are the 'perfect princess' in the eyes of their people and culture but they are soooo different. Both put their duty above themselves in a way, both are 'blessed' (Yue literally by the moon and Azula is a prodigy), both have fathers who decide things for them (The whole marriage thing with Yue and do I even have to go into detail with Ozai?), both are kept in this cage of responsibilities and duty and both suffer in the end because of it, not having experienced the freedom a child of their status could have had their whole life only to be doomed in the end.

(Also, if we just mess more with canon and redeem Azula, I think they could be besties as well. Like they could learn so much from one another. Azula is sorta like an unhinged and abused Katara so I think it could work.)

Her meeting Mai and Ty Lee would also be something.

Nonbenders who are fucking badass? Respected for who they are? I imagine they could teach Yue how to defend herself. Just imagine Yue throwing knifes and chi-blocking people.

Same with Suki.

Another nonbender who's badass and a leader of a respected group. I think they'd get along just fine.

(Also, about that whole ship drama that would probably happen: I don't really care about ships so idk, make them poly? Who cares, just let them be happy man)

But what I would be most hyped about would be her meeting with Kanna.

You know, Kanna, who said fuck you to the sexist rules and just fucking moved across the world while a war was going on? Kanna, who basically told Pakku to fuck off and she won't marry a sexist man like him? Kanna, who's the grandmother of Katara? Who send Katara across the world to kick Pakkus ass (because she must have know)? The og? The legend? It would be amazing. I imagine they would both roast Pakku to his face. And Kanna would immediately adopt Yue as one of hers. It would be so wholesome come on.

Of course there are a lot of other characters that she'd meet, but I think the ones I mentioned are the most interesting once because of parallels and stuff.

[madhogthymaster]

Master Recs: The "N64" Trilogy (2023)

Pseudoregalia

Let us muse over a very small, three-dimensional Metroidvania game stylistically fashioned after the Nintendo 64 era of graphical fidelity. It stars a deliciously polygonal rabbit-y, goat-y, cat-like girl.

Now, I am playing this on the fabled Steam Deck. It runs and controls smoothly on the platform but you might require to fiddle with the video settings as the default configuration is slightly blurry due to a very specific and fascinating reason. It turns out Pseudoregalia vaunts a certain level of depth in its technical customization, one that's surprisingly fun to manipulate. There's an option to toggle on or off a retro graphical scale and character movement rate, which graciously emulate the old school console experience. You can also manually reduce or augment the maximum framerate for the whole game. You could theoretically play something that looks like a 30 fps 3D Platformer from 1997 or the most HD upscaled version thereof at 144 fps, or everything in between! The default, blurry configuration comes as a result of the aforementioned retro scaling clashing with the 4K resolution in full screen mode. This is the first and last time in recorded human history that I will ever be this enamoured with "specs talk."

The point is, we have a darling gem with a cultivated aesthetic, a good level of polish: it will look "right" regardless of your favoured settings. I'm impressed by the extra layer of work placed in the subtle use of limited framerates for the character's movement.

Pseudoregalia captures the idea, the abstract concept and low-poly charm of a N64 title with a gameplay that recalls your memory of it, rather than the unwieldy reality. I say this as someone who doesn't have nostalgia for early 3D graphics: the game makes them look spiffy.

I shall be honest, this is normally not the sort of title I would enjoy playing, as precise platforming and traversal puzzles are my nemesis. I mentioned afore the level of polish, which is generally consistent, but some of the movement upgrades you get (such as the jump/wall kick) can be rather finicky to master. In that sense, be wary that the game does not openly provide you with tutorials for the moves that require more finesse, choosing instead to hide an additional set of instructions in the inventory descriptions. It's "old school", you see. Older versions were bereft of maps thus making exploration a burden for those like me who are directionally challenged - both in games and in real life. Regardless, I kept getting drawn by its world, its somber atmosphere, its tight gameplay and especially its protagonist, Sybil.

An appealing design for your avatars goes a long way in ensuring an emotional connection to them and Sybil just so happens to have one of the most striking and instantly recognizable appearances I can fathom. It's a pleasure to look at her go! Furthermore, I would posit that she has a lot in common with my precious videogame fluffy boy, Klonoa - and I do I mean, a lot. I will not elaborate. If you get it, you get it. In conclusion, Pseudoregalia is an impressively put together jam. It's easy to pick up yet punishing to handle, it's fun and fascinating in spite of its more irritating aspects. The best overall critique I can give it is that it made me want to keep trying, and trying, and trying, until I eventually became good enough to complete it several times and even beat the insanely hard Time Attacks. In short: game is good. Play it.

---

Corn Kidz 64

If I had a nickel for every time a throwback 3D Platform game starring a cute goat-like creature managed to grab my attention, I would have a whopping three nickels! Anyway, here is Corn Kidz 64, an artistically verosimile homage to the Rareware games you probably remember.

Deliciously stylized polygons welcome both you and I into a quirky mindscape. You play as a rude little prick named Seve who's having a vivid nachos related dream but has to contend with various bollocks - as it's often the case.

If you are even marginally familiar with all the Kanjo-Bazooies and Konkey Dongs out there then you will recognize its sphere of influences right away. It's a proper tribute to that era of gaming up to the inclusion of the "correct" low video resolution settings and insane completion requirements. There is much puzzling and platforming to be had, tactical traversal and secrets-within-secrets to bamboozle and titillate your gamer's lizard brain. Genre freaks will feel very welcome here.

I will say that I find the character design especially pleasing. Aesthetically, I would place it somewhere in between Rayman. Belgian comic book artist André Franquin and web strips from twenty years ago or more. It's expressive, to say the least.

As a sign of good will from the game's part, this is the track that greets you as you plunge into the realm of your dreams of childhood:

Corn Kidz 64 is a short, fun experience, bedazzled by tight controls, surreal atmosphere and "Early Internet" humour. It does not overstate its welcome and only occasionally gets immensely frustrating. Its dedication to the N64 ethos is both a boon and a detriment, in that sense. Let me put it this way: I shall not be doing a 110% completion run any time soon.

---

Cavern of Dreams

As a direct result of me wanting more, here is Cavern of Dreams. Yet another N64 aesthetically driven title that came out last year but was promptly overshadowed by Funny Goat Game and Sexy Goat Game - as far as my own pop cultural myopia is concerned, that is.

It is a small yet multilayered Collect-A-Thon with an emphasis on exploration rather than combat or complex platforming. There is no health bar and there are no traditional enemies. There is a handful of puzzles here and there, some of which might be legitimate head scratchers. The dragon baby is cute. I do have a couple of gripes with this one.

Playing this game is, in a word, annoying. It is bothersome how weighted and limited the movement is, it is fastidious how the character collision is in relation to the environment, it is aggravating how it all affects the gameplay in small yet noticeable ways. Here's an example: you can use the traditional ground pound to gain extra height. However, in order to do so, you have to keep pressing the attack button while in midair. The problem with that is the game still registers it as an attack when you do so. As such, if you happen to be hugging a wall, atop a small ledge, this action will inevitably cause your character to hit said wall and propel you backwards, resulting in you falling to your doom. This happened constantly. Generally speaking, the control scheme doesn't feel ideally tailored to an experience that requires precise platforming. A repeated offender would be grabbing onto climbable ropes. Which is to say, sometimes it just doesn't happen. You'll float towards a rope and, if the collision isn't pixel-perfect, you will miss it entirely. Also, Baby is unable to jump above once he climbs all the way to the top, half the time. The later levels are worse in that regard as they need some amount of skill.

Speaking of which, something that will always make me consider quitting a game in a fit of rage is being sucked down a drain that expels me into a different area, forcing me to walk all the way back to where I was before. Once again, annoying is the word.

All that said, the saving grace of Cavern of Dreams lies in the exquisitely crafted, imaginative stages that compose the dreamlike tapestry of the game's aesthetics: living airborne vessels, desolate ice kingdoms, nightmarish art galleries that twist and distort your senses.

The use of colour hues, sounds and deliberately non-contiguous spaces create this palpable atmosphere of both wonder and anxiety. A welcoming world may turn weird and alienating. A dream may turn into a nightmare. There is a depth beneath the surface presentation that is absolutely worth experiencing. I really wanted to like this game but, alas, I'm left with mostly mixed feelings. Regardless, it's an adorable title with some tinges of darkness and it might just be for you!

---

As a conclusive note, I find myself enthralled by the subtle similarities these games share as well as their abundant differences. All of them are stylistically reminiscent of a specific bygone era whilst being perfectly distinct in presentation, and they all are about Dreams...

They are about exploring dreamscapes, lands where subconscious thoughts and memories materialize in daunting vistas of a forlorn past, comically bizarre hyper-realities from an active imagination or an infant's idea of the world around itself. Pondering about the familiarity of it all fills me both with comfort and melancholy: the parallelism of Dream, Childhood and Gaming. The distant memories of youth in correlation to the experience of videogame escapism are akin to a dream from which we are expected to wake... Well, now I just want to gush about Klonoa again!

In fact, I would go as far as to say that Corn Kidz 64's "plot resolution" feels like a direct parody of Door to Phantomile's ending, and it gets funnier the more I think about it.

---

A/N:

Thank you for reading.

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[tinyidle]

Hi I'm the one that asked if you'd write for blackpink, could I please request a cute and smutty Poly one shot with Chaennie where they surprise reader for their birthday

(Idk why I asked on anon the first time lol I was shy ig)

Happy Birthday, Baby - KJN x YN x PRS/PCY

first of all, im suuuper sorry for taking so long! secondly, i hope you enjoy this fic.

wc: 1.2k

WARNING: smut, fluff, threesome, foreplay, facesitting, tribbing, mention of toy usage but nothing comes from it, dom!jennie, dom!rose, switch!reader, fem reader, all fiction ofc

you weren't the happiest for your birthday, but you were glad that this year you would able to celebrate with your girlfriends. jennie and rose have been with you for a few months, but it felt like you were together for years. life was dull until they came in, and now you find yourself smiling more than once every day-- something that, before meeting them, barely happened during the week.

you came back from work and were surprised with the big "SURPRISE!!" from the two for your favorite girls in the world. they held a lightly ablazed cake with your name on it. "happy birthday!" the exclaimed, smiling and laughing at how you instantly shed tears of joy and appreciation for having two wonderful girls by your side.

you wiped your tears as you laughed along with them before blowing out your candles. as the two cheered and clapped (to the best of rose's ability because she was holding the cake), you watched as jennie went to the kitchen to grab some plates and forks. "thank you, guys, really," you said with full gratitude. "work was great as usual, but you always know how to make my nights better than the last."

"of course," rose said as she put the small heart cake on the coffee table. "we always want to make our special girl feel extra special on her special day."

you giggled as jennie finally came back with the cutlery and napkins. "and what better way to make our special girl feel special than to have her favorite cake and favorite position?" as rose nodded along, agreeing with the words jennie chimed in with, you were confused. position? what does she mean by-

"when you're finished, baby, take off all the clothes you can while we take care of you, okay?" rose's thick accent was laced with something else all-too familiar with you: lust. now all you could think of was wonder what type of position they would put you in that was supposedly your favorite.

while you three were eating your slices of the heart cake, you couldn't help the thumping in your ears from your heart beating out of control. the only thing on your mind weren't necessarily things, but rather your two lovers as they seemed to be eating the cake a lot slower than you wanted. as much as you wished to stuff yourself and them with the rest of your slices, you had to be patient. they planned a special night for you, and you are not going to let impatience ruin it for you.

an hour of slowly eating your slice (as you watched jennie swirl her tongue on the frosting and rose sensually lick the plate to further agitate you), you went upstairs and did what was instructed with you. as quickly as your clothes were off, your eyes were met with the most beautiful sight of your naked girlfriends. each one standing in front of you, as if daring you to look away from the stunning display in front of you. both jennie and rose took your hands and led you to the bed.

"spread your legs for us, baby," jennie told you. the girls smiled as you lay down and spread your legs. both gently kissed you on each cheek as their as hands explored every inch of your body. the love and passion between you three was clearly visible in the expressions on each other.

jennie's mouth went down to kiss along your jawline, sucking a bit on it before reaching your lips, starting a mind-numbing makeout session. as you were busy with your mouth, rose was busy trailing her kisses from your neck down to your nipples. she blew on them, making your visibly shiver, before latching on to them with her tongue and the roof of her mouth. your moans mixed with jennie's turned to whines as rose was giving your breasts the attention they truly deserved.

soon enough you wanted to be fucked, no longer being played with as the two then took turns making your center the wettest its ever been in a while. "please," you begged while breaking away from the kiss as jennie's fingers were rubbing your clit and rose was two knuckles deep. "i want you to fuck me."

"oh?" rose teasingly asked. "which one? my cock or jennie's?" even though they knew that they could both fuck you at the same time, with or without toys, they both knew your favorite position required one person at a time so that you could catch your breath.

"both of you." without asking any questions, although they had a lot at the time, nodded.

"how do you want us?" jennie asked. you motioned that you wanted one woman's cunt on yours while the other's cunt sat on your face. "aren't we supposed to be seeing you though, baby?" you didn't answer, but instead pulled them over the spots your motioned them to with a whine. "okay," jennie obliged, "anything for the special girl on her special day."

with your ass on the edge of the bed and your two best friends sitting above you, jennie began to ride your center while rose rode your face hard. the soft slapping sounds of skin-on-skin was music to your ears as the friction increased from thrusts. your hands found your slightly older lover's breasts while the oldest squeezed and rubbed your nipples. it felt like heaven.

before long, the room was filled with your moans and their groans as jennie's hips were bucking harder than normal, trying to reach that sweet release as well as you and rose. "fuck, im about to cum," you declared through your muffled mouth, causing rose to moan louder as her ass constantly bounced atop of your tongue. "cum for me rosie, jen. pleaseee~"

your request made them both move faster as your mouth started to become numb and your clit being overstimulated. rose came first, shivering as her cum dripped into your awaiting lips. "fuck," she whimpered, shaking her hips a bit before getting off your now drenched face.

jennie came straight after, thrusting forwards one more time before cumming directly on your pelvis, your center now sticky with each other's essence. both girls' orgasms left them panting and breathless. you panted too, barely able to keep your eyes open as you laid there, completely. the three of you just laid there, taking deep breaths before jennie spoke up again. "did you have fun, darling?"

you looked at her with a smile as you hummed. "yeah, i did." jennie gave you a quick kiss on the cheek. you turned to rose. "is this everything you wanted for my birthday?"

the bleached red head bit her lip before running her fingers against your stomach. "we were expecting to fuck you individually. but this was so much better. right jennie?"

jennie nodded. "right. we're just glad we got to celebrate you the way wanted us." both girls wrapped their arms around you and kissed you before kissing each other. then you kissed each woman before sighing in their love.

"happy birthday, baby. we live you so much."

[smbrearranged]

Head Cannons!

So, I wanted to put out some general head cannons about the character’s personalities because why not? Luigi -He’s a soft boi but knows what he wants when he wants it and is willing to do what it takes to get it. -He’s the prince of the mushroom kingdom because Mario and his adoptive parents didn’t want him to have to stress about having too much work since he was frail as a kid. He no longer is, but it’s just how things turned out. -Luigi has a little bit of trauma from his time with Daisy. Of course things turned out okay and it was only temporary, but he won’t even look at her for things that she said and did to him over that day they were together. -Luigi sort of already knew that Bowser was hiding a big part of him. He’s not an oracle, but he occasionally has these dreams where he sees a small bit of the future and one of the things he saw was Bowser changing forms with Luigi in his arms. -He’s transgender, but genderfluid more than anything. His pronouns are He/him and he is comfortable being addressed as a prince, but he adores wearing dresses and skirts. He’s also generally more feminine in nature because of his kindness. No one judges him though, since he is the best ruler of the Mushroom Kingdom and if anyone did try to say something, they’d be facing war from Mario’s Empire.

Mario -Mario is the best older brother. Absolutely the best, he loves his little brother more than anything and when Luigi came out to him as young teens, he helped Luigi get more comfortable in his skin and helped when Luigi needed help picking a more masculine name. -Mario is not an emperor, yet! His father before him also wasn’t an emperor until after he married, so, potentially, if Mario chose to never marry but still have offspring, he’d never be emperor. Not that he minded, he was pretty content by himself. -Mario is Polyamorous! He is okay with just one partner, but he knows he needs more to be satisfied. That being said, he wants a closed relationship, he doesn’t want to have to worry about his partners getting sick because of a bad time or anything like that. -Mario is totally okay with Bowser and Luigi’s relationship and actually finds it cute! Interspecies relationships aren’t a problem for him since his and Luigi’s parents were one such couple. Their parents were a Toadette and a Bogmire by the names of Timpani and Blumiere respectively.

Peach -She’s a great girl :) the best girl and a great friend to Bowser. She never let his intimidating true appearance change her opinion of Bowser, even when he would get angry. She loves Bowser as a brother and has always cared for him and always will support him. -She becomes an ambassador for the Koopa Kingdom since she is really good at public speaking and negotiations. She doesn’t actually become a princess since she isn’t related to Bowser, but she is perfectly content with her position and is allowed to travel as she pleases between business meetings. -She isn’t exactly Poly, but she eventually ends up in a closed relationship with two people. She’s not the most active partner, but is a good compromise between their personalities and issues. She’s soft and kind, but knows when to put her foot down. She also appreciates aspects from both since one is responsible and doting while the other is strong and diligent. Peach loves both of them because they allow her to explore and be herself while still welcoming her back almost as if nothing has changed. -Peach can’t ever see her parents again, sadly, as the pipe never returns during their lifetime and her parents are left knowing that her and Bowser are either dead or lost somewhere. She regrets not calling them more often, but knows that she is much happier in this new world full of magic and beautiful scenery.

Bowser -Bowser has anger issues, but he does everything he can to keep from being violent or angry with anyone. He even commissioned a special room so that he could rage and not damage anything important in the castle. it’s full of easily made china, bats, punching bags, breakable boards, etc. He enjoys the relief it brings when he feel like he can’t control his emotions well enough. Luigi and Peach are also senses of calm for him, being able to ground him when he was starting to get mad. -He’s very uncertain with his and Luigi’s relationship at first, worried that their rushing it, but Luigi is quick to reassure him that he wouldn’t be there if he didn’t want Bowser. Luigi is also the first to initiate a kiss between them because he knows Bowser is too much of a worry wart. -Bowser adores Luigi as much as Luigi adores Bowser. He’s the first person to truly accept him and appreciate him in his true form besides Peach, and Luigi is the first person to actually like that form more than his human form. (Bowser wasn’t sure why until Luigi explained about his preferences later on in the relationship, but he was more than happy to oblige) -For whatever reason, even in Bowser’s human form, he and Luigi are never able to have a biological child. -Bowser is a righteous king and a good ruler and lover. He’s kind and knows when to step away while still being able to command respect and, when needed, fear, but he’s always looking to solve things peacefully.

Extras -Daisy is eventually tried and sent to an island that no one can reach once she’s there with only the basics to survive. She does eventually escape, but she no longer has any power and it took time for her to build herself back up to attack. -Waluigi and Wario become Bowser’s servants since they showed remorse for what happened. However, they aren’t allowed anywhere near Luigi because of his trauma. -Queen Rosalina, Queen of the Boos, does not like Bowser and thinks he is unfit to rule. -Donkey Kong, king of the Kongs, is a recluse and hides his people, however, when word reached him of a new, kinder Koopa King, he attended the coronation which introduced him to a new world of people. -Prince Boo, celestial being of the cosmos, is well known in the world and is both revered and feared. He was known to be chaotic, but only took real action when the galaxy is in danger. He enjoys teasing Luigi and eventually becomes a good friend to the human. Prince Boo does have a crush on Luigi, but for multiple reasons, he doesn’t pursue the human prince. -Koopalings for hire! They take the place of Wario and Waluigi and are basically hitmen or thugs for hire. Kamek recommends them for a simple retrieval mission and Luigi and Bowser both find the struggling kids cute and feel bad that they’ve had to live that way for so many years. They take the kids in a week after they get a very special present. Ludwig is the oldest at 17 and Larry and Lemmy are the youngest at 10. -The BeanBean Kingdom is ruled by Queen Cackletta and Prince Fawful, Their ambassadors, Bean and Peasley tried to steal Luigi’s voice to empower the Beanstar, but Prince Fawful heard of the plan and warned Luigi. Basically, the Super Star Saga plot takes place, but with altered characters and such. Mario becomes Rookie, Peach and Bowser are like Mario and Luigi, and Luigi is Peach ofc. That’s just how it goes lol. Things turn out great and Bowser, Luigi, and Mario are all able to acquire treaties with the BeanBean Kingdom. -Yoshi’s are more intelligent and have a kingdom and a super star of their own. Their king is literally named King Yoshi and is a rare Green Yoshi. -Penguins are sweet little babies that allow you to slide on them when traveling through their icy dessert hills. They are significantly larger than the ones we see in games and movies, since they are ridden, they have to be large enough to hold others. They love fish.

I have some other head cannons, but they will be answered in the fics I write for this. If anyone has any questions, I’d be happy to answer!

[astralleywright]

how about the rest of the hells? i think laudna, fearne, orym and letters, right? not braius though he's only been here for 6 episodes unless you think that's enough

Chetney sweetie i'm so sorry. here's Chetney

First impression

just ;like. laughter for an hour. that first hour or so after Chet's introduction just one of the funniest moments in the campaign

Impression now

that's peepaw!!! what a wonderfully insane old man. i love him. i'm not sure if Travis even realizes that he made an actually good character

Favorite moment

honestly its probably still him giving the moon box to Orym. one of the first most thoughtful things he did. but also his confrontation with the other toymaker in the Heartmoor

Idea for a story

WE ARE GOING TO POPCON.

Unpopular opinion

HE IS NEVER GOING TO DIE. CHETNEY WILL LIVE FOREVER AND WE WILL GO TO POPCON

Favorite relationship

wood genuinely i tried to answer this and then my answer was like. all of the Hells and also Deanna and FRIDA. the heart of the group fr. the Laudna and Chet bestiesisms specifically have been hitting like crazy recently though

Favorite headcanon

he's not Orym's dad. Orym's dad is an actual guy whose last name is Tarrintel. Chetney is Scanlan's dad

i guess i'll do the rest of em too, while you're here:

ranked in order from least to most controversial

FCG!

First impression

the most adorable, silliest little robit i had ever seen. Sam Reigel you have done it again

Impression now

the most adorable, silliest little robit i had ever seen. Sam Reigel you have done it again -said while crying now

also like. damn. kind of one of the best CR PCs to ever do it

Favorite moment

i'm not original, it's his sacrifice scene. and by that i mean when he and Fearne encounter Otohan in Razora and over their link he tells the others to run, assuming they'll die and Fearne will only be captured. AND THEN THE BANISHMENT. but also his death scene yeah

Idea for a story

I will be haunted by them experiencing Aeor again and Downfall forever

Unpopular opinion

Their following of the Changebringer was in fact them trying to stake their entire identity in another person and have someone to tell them what to do bc they feared their own autonomy! This only really started to change near the end, with his insight check on her and expressing his doubts during the Honesty Trial. but ppl were really committed to defending it as Strictly Good bc they were so desperate for a PC with a simplisticly positive relationship to a god

Favorite relationship

LOVELETTERS... also him and Ashton!! and Deanna and Imogen!!

Favorite headcanon

takes your hand. if FCG had seen Downfall he would have gotten to the speakeasy scene and immediately decided to start playing an instrument. they would have approached Dorian for advice about it and everything. it would have been his new thing, like baking or smoking or having a flesh tongue. i miss them so bad

Fearnie!

First impression

i'm going to be honest with the last name Calloway and only having seen her headshot and not actually watched yet she came across as like. an Old Money girl to me SDFDSFVC

Impression now

well. not that! she's actually god's favorite princess and the interesting girl in the world! i love her and want to study her like a bug and listen to her talk about anything

Favorite moment

Everything post shardgate was so good, and her reviving Orym, but I will be honest with you. It's when she gets high as balls on shrooms in the Gloomed Jungle and talks to a beetle she believes is the Changebringer.

Idea for a story

PLEASE LET HER DO UNSEELIE COURT STUFF AND TAKE GLOAMGUT AND THAT FUCKASS SWORD. praying that this diversion they're about to take is more than just 2 combat encounters and back to Vasselheim

Unpopular opinion

please let her be poly and stop obsessing over putting her in traditional monogamous relationships and tropes

Favorite relationship

it might be her relationship with Nana Morri! but also with Orym and Chet

Favorite headcanon

Every time someone makes her fat in their art an angel gets its wings

Waudna

First impression

Impression now

Favorite moment

I have said multiple times that it is impossible to choose and it has never actually been as impossible to choose as this. Do you have a favorite moment of a sunset. Of a breeze on a warm day. It's when she gives Ashton the doll

Idea for a story

an excerpt of the first few pages of What Doesn't Break is out and it is fucking amazing

Unpopular opinion

swordgate was Laudna's anger and grief over the sword AND her desire for power being taken advantage of by Delilah. both played a role, and that desire for power helped spur her to action, but in the literal order of events that grief and anger came first. jokes aside it was Wrong of Laudna to do that, obviously, i don't think anyone actually disagrees, but to pretend it was solely or originally about power is like. ignoring the literal chronology of events lmao.

Favorite relationship

IMODNA obviously but her relationship with Ashton is a very very close second

Favorite headcanon

she's nonbiney :)

Orym haha

First impression

was extremely disconcerted abt hearing Liam speaking in an American accent as my previous CR watch time was almost exclusively C2. where was my littol german boy.

Impression now

i liked Orym well enough but did not find him a particularly engaging character, especially in comparison to his fellow hells, up until their first trip to Issylra. but by the end of that visit I found him intensely interesting! he was spiraling! he was behaving in clearly flawed ways! Liam was saying things both in and out of game that gave the impression he had ideas and a trajectory for Orym besides just kind of like. being stressed and staying the course! I loved the version of Orym we got in Issylra, I found him fascinating, I was so excited to see where he went from there, and then he just kind of disappeared 😭. and Liam started backtracking or specifically nixing many of the most compelling interpretations of Orym's actions then. and it's like okay. 👍. idk what Liam's got cooking for Orym and it's not over until it's over but rn he is kind of back on that original shelf for me

Favorite moment

"That sounds like a threat Orym" "that's what it was" you will ALWAYS be famous

Idea for a story

I would like to know abt his 6 years of traveling after Will died! where did he go. what did he see

Unpopular opinion

i'm pretty sure every opinion i've ever had about Orym is an unpopular opinion LMAO

Favorite relationship

Oh him and Fearne! And Ashton. And i honestly love his and Chet's dynamic

Favorite headcanon

Alma called him a "stoic" child during the Hells visit to Zephrah and ever since I have loved the idea of Orym having been exactly as serious back then. Serious little baby man.

[callipraxia]

An Observation

I'm reading a bunch of books about plot structure again, and one of them was specifically about breaking down plots to their basic elements in a way that lets you see how two works can have the same 'skeleton' while appearing wildly different. Looking at it from that angle, it occurred to me:

The stories of Demeter and Clytemnestra follow roughly the same plot - they just have different outcomes.

In the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, we get the story of Demeter and Persephone - the story that formed the basis of the Eleusinian Mysteries. Persephone is picking flowers when she is lured astray by one planted as a trap for her; once she tries to get it, Hades pops up from nowhere, yanks her onto his chariot, and goes off to the Underworld with her, having gotten permission from Zeus to forcibly marry her without consulting with Demeter, her mother. There's scholarly discussion about how this could be symbolic of the real grief experienced by ancient Greek mothers and daughters, who might well never see each other again after the daughter is married off, but in its own context - the lord of the Underworld claims the Maiden, plunging her mother into grief and anger, which turns into Demeter blighting the world until the other gods come to an accommodation with her which partially restores Persephone to her. Ultimately, however, Demeter is plunged back into mourning every half-year when Persephone must once more return to Hades, which results in winter for everyone else.

In the Oresteia, we open with Clytemnestra plotting murder; this is because, in the backstory, her husband Agamemnon tricked her into bringing their daughter Iphigeneia to him by pretending he has arranged an honorable marriage for the girl, only to sacrifice Iphigeneia to the goddess Artemis instead once he has her. Cue Clytemnestra plotting her revenge: she spends the whole Trojan War fantasizing about tricking Agamemnon into a position where she can kill him, just as he tricked her into putting Iphigeneia into a position to be sacrificed to Artemis. Fast-forward ten years; the Trojan War is over, Agamemnon comes home, Clytemnestra proceeds to get her revenge, and she and her boyfriend (who also wanted to avenge wrongs done to his family - specifically, he had some older siblings who met a rather gristly end at the hands of Agamemnon's already-deceased father) take over the government, with negative results for the polis, if we're to believe Electra in Libation-Bearers, anyway.

Agamemnon is, in a way, roughly analogous to Hades: a superior being (Zeus, Artemis) gives a powerful Figure From Greek Mythology (Hades, Agamemnon) permission to send a young woman to the Underworld, and in the process, her mother is tricked and bereaved. As a result, both Demeter and Clytemnestra go nuclear in their pursuit of revenge: Demeter inflicts massive crop damage, fully prepared to commit genocide upon humanity solely because the other gods enjoy receiving offerings from humans, and Clytemnestra breaks her marriage vows and then lures Agamemnon to his death. However, at that point, their stories diverge pretty sharply: even Zeus himself is apparently unable to force Demeter to come to Olympus or to allow anything to grow again against her will, and he is not able to prevent her from bringing winter back down upon the world every half-year whenever Persephone is re-removed from her due to the laws of godly physics as applied to pomegranates, because why not. Clytemnestra, however, is not a goddess - she is not even the child of a god or goddess, even though her own twin sister, Helen, is. Clytemnestra is a powerful woman...but just, at the end of the day, a human woman. Therefore, her revenge backfires onto her horribly: she who committed murder to avenge one of her daughters (Iphigeneia) is murdered by her son (Orestes) as part of a plot which included her surviving daughter (Electra). As a shade, she raises the Furies against Orestes, so that these ancient goddesses of vengeance drive him nearly mad...but because a greater power (Athena) can and does exert power (at one point, she threatens the Eumenides with Zeus's lightning-bolts, which she has access to, if they don't agree to her arbitration of the quarrel) over everyone else involved. Zeus could not curb Demeter, but his daughter can curb the Furies and bring them fully into line with the patriarchal system***.

There's stories in there. I know it. More than one. Just to sift them out and find something to do with them....

***For an interpretation of Oresteia which makes some sense out of the ending of Eumenides other than "lol, women unimportant and stupid," there's an interesting lecture by the Canadian classicist Ian Johnston, which can be viewed here: http://johnstoniatexts.x10host.com/lectures/oresteialecture.html

I quite like it, along with much of Professor Johnston's work, though it's still hard to come away without the impression that Aeschylus miiiiight have had Issues with women. However, this would hardly make Aeschylus the last writer whose skill (and point) was undermined by his prejudices.

[sensei-venus]

Poly!Sam and Moon with pregnant!Sam and mom!reader and mom!Moon explaining to their baby girl that she's going ro be a big sister?

(Unedited) (Support Me Links🌺) (Pregnant!Sam, Pregnancy, Reader carried their first daughter, fluff/soft, domestic fluff, their daughter is around five) ( @gemini-sensei )

Everyone in the household was happy about the new and exciting idea of a baby. Moon and Reader where all giggles when the test Sam took came back positive. Lots of hugs and kisses where sheared after the news came out. Sam was a bit nervous at first but her mood soon changed as it sunk in.

Her wives where so ecstatic and loving, holding her and telling her how much they loved her.

It wasn’t their first baby as Reader had carried their first daughter. It did nothing to still give them mass amounts of joy with the new development.

At first none of them told anyone about the new baby, wanting to keep Sam calm during the first month or so of the pregnancy. Plus they wanted the down time to enjoy being a family before telling people they where expecting a second child. Then life got ahead of them a bit. They didn’t end up telling anyone until the end of her second month into the pregnancy, and it was just their families they told.

The Larusso’s where excited to have another grandchild on the way. They knew that the family was trying for another baby so when they where told they where expecting they where so happy for their daughter and daughter-in-laws.

Into the third month is when they told their friends about the pregnancy. All of them where happy for the family. Most of them joked about the idea of having more “karate baby’s” out in the world was a good thing. This was mostly from Miguel and Hawk.

Things started to get a little more intense as the women started to realize they needed to tell the most important person about the baby.

Their daughter.

It wasn’t as if they forgot or didn’t want to tell her about her new sibling, they just didn’t know how. They thought a lot about it and took time to try and figure out what they where going to do. Moon and Reader didn’t have much luck on there end besides some articles and books. Moon had no other siblings so she couldn’t ask her mom. Sam ended up asking her parents how they went about telling her as a kid about Anthony.

She was around the same age as her daughter when her parents had to tell her about being pregnant with Anthony. Honestly she couldn’t really remember the conversation they had back then about it.

They just told her that they sat her down and explained that her brother was just hanging out inside her moms belly for a while. Apparently little Sam understood, apparently she was just really easy with the news and they didn’t actually have to explain much.

Sam started to show into her third month, just enough. Her belly started to plump up a bit, her once’s flat belly starting to descend. She looked overly bloated all the time now. She couldn’t help but smile as she rubbed over her naked bump in the bathroom mirror. Her belly was silky and tight now.

It all started one night when all three girls where in bed. They where getting ready to go to bed for the night. Moon was sitting up at the head of the bed, kissing Sam’s cheek and rubbing her belly over her loss tank top. Reader was getting out of the bathroom from her night routine and telling them about her day.

Their conversation abruptly ended when the sound of heavy little feet came up to their door and a second later that door was being opened just a crack. Little eyes peered from behind the door and into the room. Staring at the three women who look back.

“Mama, mommy mom can I come in please?” Their daughters voice was shy and low. Probably nervous because she knew she shouldn’t be up this late. They had put her to bed over a hour ago.

“Of course Sweety, come on in get on the bed with Mama and Mom.” Moon said as she patted the spot next to Sam. The girl bolted into the room slamming the door shut behind her. She raced over to the bed but struggled to get up. Reader walked over and helped push her up and into the bed along side Sam. The girl scooted over and sat by her mom.

Her eyes stared at Sam’s belly, watching as Moon rubbed it in small circles. Reader got onto the bed and sat right next to her. The little girl cocked her head as she watched for a good few minutes.

“Why is Mama rubbing Mom’s belly like that? Does she have a tummy ache? Is that why her belly looks big??” The girl randomly said out loud. All of them looked at one another. This was the perfect moment to tell their daughter about her new sibling.

“No Mom doesn’t have a tummy ache, we’ll not right now at least.” Reader snickered a little, Sam’s morning sickness was not a walk in the park these days. Sam rolled her eyes before looking over at her daughter. A smile spread over her lips.

“Mama is rubbing mom’s belly because…she wants to say hi to the baby that’s in there.” Moon says gently. The toddler's eyes widen for a moment as she looks from her Mom to her belly.

“Baby??”

“Yes there is a baby in there, your sibling.”

“Can I touch mom’s belly?? How did baby get in there??” Sam nods as she takes the girl's hand and places it on the open area of her bump. Her tiny fingers rub gently at the skin. Her little mouth opens in awe as her hand runs over the now tight round skin. Sam rests bet head on Moon’s shoulder as they both watch.

“Well, you know how Mom loves me and Mama so much? Well, sometimes that love can grow, and...well a baby starts growing. When you're bigger you will understand more. But for now, your little brother or sister is in there.”

A small “wow” passes through the girl's lips as she keeps looking at her mom’s belly.

“Mom is going to get a lot bigger in the belly the more they grow inside her, but that's how we know the little one is safe and growing in there.” Moon says.

“Can I play with them??” the girl questions as she glances at her mom. Her eyes were wide with excitement at the idea of having a new friend to play with.

“Of course! But we have to wait until they come out and get a bit bigger. Then you can play with them all you want.” Sam smiles.

The girl grins and giggles before reaching up and clinging to her mom. Her hands wrapped around her neck. Sam kisses her all over the face making the girl break out into even louder giggles. All three adults laugh as well at the good change of events.

“Are you excited to be a big sister now?” Reader says as she rubs the girls back.

“Yes!!! I can't wait to be a big sister!” she laughs as she kisses her mom’s cheek.

The rest of the night is spent talking about all kinds of things. The girl keeps asking about names, when they baby will be here, and how long she has to wait to be able to play with them.

Everyone is just so happy to be having a new member of their family coming soon.

[angelasscribbles]

Drake Walker Appreciation and HC's 2023

This is my offering for Day 1 of Drake Walker Appreciation Week by @drake-walker-appreciation

What do I love about this fictional man? The better question is what don’t I love about him? Because I love everything about him, even his faults and flaws!

There is no one more loyal than Drake Walker. Now I know some may dispute this because canonically he does fall for his best friend’s girl but… in a route where you romance Drake, he fights it tooth and nail. Think about it. Here is the love of his life in front of him and he struggles mightily to deny it, fight it and hide it. Why? Because he doesn’t ever want to hurt Liam or MC for that matter.

As gruff as he is, he forgives Maxwell for hiding the truth about Savannah, he always does the right thing, even if he bitches about it (he’s an antihero, think Han Solo), he really is a marshmallow!

Anyone who’s read even a little of my stuff knows that I almost always make him a captain in the King’s Guard or the Royal Guard (these might be used interchangeably by some people, but in my HC and my writing, they are separate units, or rather, the King’s Guard and the Queen’s Guard are smaller, elite units within the Cordonian Royal Guard).

Drake, as I write him, almost always fights his attraction for Riley initially, despite being strongly drawn to her from the beginning. Once she gives him any type of encouragement, and sometimes even if she doesn’t, he becomes very protective and almost obsessive in his devotion. I have written him both as completely unjealous (perfectly willing to share her with Liam as long as he has a place in her life) and over the top homicidally possessive and probably everything in between. The overarching HC is that she is the love of his life and despite being a man whore before he met her, once he falls, that’s it for him. He will do anything and everything for her.

Drake loves Riley with a single minded intensity that just overpowers everything else, including his own better sense.

For some reason, I always HC that he never wanted kids, mostly because of his position in the King’s Guard, and having lost his own father. He doesn’t want to put a child through that. He wants neither children nor does he ever want marriage or even a serious relationship until he meets Riley, who changes his mind about wanting a relationship. Once he has a child, he relishes the role and is an involved and doting father. In any universe where they are in a poly relationship, I usually make the first baby or two Liam’s (for obvious, succession related reasons) and Drake is just as devoted to that child as he will later be to his own.

I HC that Drake is a very physical person and an adrenaline junkie. He rides a motorcycle, drives a fast car, plays drums, skydives for fun, rides horses, works out regularly, goes for a five mile run every morning, and plays baseball etc. Thanks to @karahalloway I now also HC that he plays polo!

Though he denies it, and grumbles about it, he actually loves the stupid pet names that Riley comes up with for him. (Cuddle bear, snuggle bug, squishy) and despite the gruff exterior he still shows to the outside world, he is extremely affectionate and shows his love in physical ways, not just sex, but cuddling and frequent touch including hand holding, playing with her hair, having his hand at her back, or even just quickly brushing hands as they pass each other during the workday. He needs to know where she is at every moment, but that’s part of his protective nature and job as head of her security.

For some reason, I’ve given him an obsession with bacon in everything I’ve written! And of course, I think we all agree that he loves the outdoors. Camping, hiking, fishing, etc. And whiskey, obviously whiskey (I’ve only made him straight up have to go to AA once lol).

I enjoy writing him with a darker edge sometimes, which somehow makes his gentleness with Riley even hotter.

Ok, I think that about covers it!

[suckerpunch-wrestlinggirls]

SUCKER PUCNCH -Pretty Devils [Wrestling Girls Vol. II]

Avid Queer Reader rated it ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

After loving the first volume I requested an ARC of this second installment coming out in March to the author and she was so kind to send me one in exchange for an honest review.

I read this entire book in one night. No shit. I got the email with the ARC last night at 10 PM, started reading right away... and next thing I new it was 5 AM. And my heart was singing.

I thought I loved the first book because of how true and genuine the love in it is, in all its forms... I wasn't emotionally ready to be completely blown away by Pretty Devils. The real superpower of this author is the heart she can put in each and every of her characters, even the ones who aren't really prominent in the story. That's what truly brings everything to life, what makes you smile and tear up as you read about this bunch of "queer disaster idiots" and their life at the Beatcave.

I wasn't particularly impressed at first by the main character because, after the lovely POC romance we got in the first book, we're now presented with... a lot of whiteness. BUT! It only takes a couple of chapters to grow fond of Liv and her struggles with life and the world. It's never stated anywhere that she's neurodivergent (autistic, I assume?) because, as many neurodivergent people in real life, she never got a disognosis: her mother just calls her stupid and Liv herself believes it's simply a learning disability. So bonus points for the white MFC. Liv is also poor and struggling to make ends meet every month because of her mother's drinking and gambling problems, but she never whines like a martyr and I really appreciated her tough fragility.

On the other side of the spectrum, quite literally, we have Raisa, who is gorgeous and strong and has never had to struggle for anything, coming from a loving, wealthy family. Raisa is presented, at first, as your sterotypical goth: brooding, quiet, maybe even slightly curt (I was swooning the very moment she was introduced), an Ice Queen clad in leather who likes to mind her own business and keep to herself.

No spoilers as to how they meet and how their relastionship begins and develops, but let me say this: we see both these characters bloom page after page right before out eyes. Liv, from the small, frightened kitten she was in the beginning, slowly starts learning to trust people and let her real self come out in the safe and friendly environment of the Beatcave. The dark ice coating Raisa's character starts melting away as she sends more and more time with Liv and I promise you you'll love every bit of their evolution as individuals and as a couple. Liv and Raisa and both far from perfect and they do a lot of things wrong (mostly because Liv has a hard time dealing with emotions and distressing events), but the patience and understanding and deep affection binding them together are stronger than anything else.

Now, subplots I ADORED:

- Roxie and Fiona. These two are show stealers: lesbian couple goals and the most beautiful Gay Moms energy you'll ever find. Watching them together really warms your heart.

- Blu. Blair fucking Lucas, ladies and gentlemen, is a GEM. When she first appeared I groaned to myself: "Oh, here's the gratuitously mean girl whose only prupose is to make the protagonist's life a nightmare." I was wrong. Oooh, boy, so wrong! There's so much to her to discover in between the lines. ILUSM, Blu.

- Mum and her girlfriend + Dad and his boyfriend (I know it sounds funny, but... just read these books, it'll make sense). I sense BIG poly vibes with them and I LOVE it. The poly representation in fiction is so rare, especially non problematic, healthy polyamory, and I think it's so refreshing to see it such a positive, loving portrayal, even if barely hinted at. Maybe it's all just in my brain, but... a win is a win. *wink*

To summarise this endless, delighted rambling of a review, here's what you'll find in this book:

- REALISTIC NEURODIVERGENCY REPRESENTATION - SLOW BURN *CHEF'S KISS* (you can literally see L&R fall in love and will call them idiots A LOT) - PLENTY OF (devastatingly beautiful) FOUND FAMILY FEELS - STRONG WOMEN AND SOFT MEN - POSITIVE STRAIGHT CHARACTERS (who also are idiots in love but won't say it) - POOR GIRL DATING RICH GIRL BUT WANTING TO BE THE ONE WHO DOES THE SPOILING (seriously, though, this alone should earn this book an extra star.) - SO. MUCH. LOVE. (I want to be a part of this bunch of dorks. Where do I apply?)

Go read these books RIGHT NOW. Your queer heart will thank you.

[khunkiseia]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you. Spread the positivity!

Ty !!!!

So things that make me happy :

- speaking with my partner ! They always say i make them happy and im glad i make ppl feel good emotions and theyre the best thing that ever happened to me

- this girl i have a crush on (im poly not a cheater dw dw) mostly when we talk to eachother bc hruznalqna

- anyone saying nice things about me, being nice or a decent person mostly online

- holding hands with my best friend bc it help me feel more safe and in touch with the world

- fictional characters and seeing them suffer and representation and everything about them that is so special to me

Thats all have a nice day !!!

[inari-zaheer]

can i request poly caitvi x reader nsfw headcanons??

thank you and i love your headcanons 💗💗 have a great day

Thank you, have a great day too!����💜💜

Poly!Violyn NSFW Headcanons

Pairing:Poly!Violyn x Reader

Tw:NSFW; Cursing

—————————————

Both of them are switches who are more dominant in bed

But while Vi prefers to give love to you Cait prefers to receive love from you

Just picture this

Vi in between your legs, fucking you mercilessly while Caitlyn fucks herself on your moth by sitting on your face, moaning your name telling you how much of a good girl you are for her

Cait would also love to simply sit in a chair beside the bed, whiskey in hand, just in a set of lingerie enjoying the show you and Vi were putting for her

Bitting her lips, giving you those sexy looks, just waiting for you to beg for her to touch you with Vi

If the pinkette thought she already messed enough with you she’d ask Cait to join you

If not, then Cait would just wait a little bit before becoming impatient herself

But if she was feeling like torturing you just a bit more she’d position the chair again so you could have a privileged vision of her spread legs while she touches herself in front of you

Vi on the on the other hand would always like to have her hands on you though

Doesn’t matter who is pleasuring who she just needs to touch you

Vi loves to fuck you with a strap while Cait is behind you lazily stroking your clit while kissing your neck

Talking about kinks, Vi likes the sensation of owning you and so does Cait, so they definitely had you on a leash sometimes

And Cait bought you one expensive collar for you with their initials on it

Both of them would love if you ride their thighs

Vi would just lay back whispering sweet nothings to you while helping you with her hands on your hips

Cait would also “punish” you for ruining her new pair of trousers

But honestly, she’d just tease you while eating you out slowly and painfully

One time you accidentally called Cait mommy and she immediately embraced it

Always asking how her little girl is going, asking you to behave for her

Vi doesn’t care that much if you call her mommy/daddy, cause she honestly just thinks that if you can still form coherent phrases she’s not fucking you hard enough

But if you address her as one of these she will definitely roll with it

If you were misbehaving they would tie you into a chair, put a vibrator inside you on the lowest setting and have you watch them fuck each other

Which would lead you to being rewarded for knowing how to behave

Neither one of them would like to be aggressive at you, but they would gladly choke you and Cait would like to slap you when fucking you with the strap

They’d both be willing to test different things with you

Such as that one time while you three went on a party in Caitlyn’s house with you wearing remote controlled vibrating panties

Let’s just say Vi got a little carried away with the remote in her hands lol

After every time they’d be all over you

Kissing, hugging, massaging sore spots, giving you all the love and attention in the world