#spotty has abandonment issues

[lilacs-and-vanilla]

How Spiderverse SOs would react to you changing your soap

(just a random prompt I thought of because of my own soap that smells like coconut and vanilla)

Noir

- He’s never been one to comment on a woman’s preferences, but this is certainly his.

- In a world where everything is black and white, other senses are used for stimulation.

- He will start kissing you on the neck more often, coming up behind you and swiping your hair over one of your shoulders to gain access to that little treasure trove of sensory bliss.

- He will give you little words of admiration here and there, telling you “you smell nice” or “I really like this new scent” or “it really suits you.”

- If you’ve just gotten out of the shower and your hair is freshly washed and still damp, he will hoist you into his arms and fall into bed with you, big spooning you so he can rest the front of his head against the back of yours.

Hobie

- Hobie definitely won’t mention it unless you bring it up first.

- You’d ask if he likes it, and he’d try to play it off by giving you a simple nod, but in the back of his mind he knows you’ve noticed the way he takes moments to get just a bit closer than normal.

- If the scent is some type of flower, he’ll start leaving them around for you to find, maybe in your living space or at work.

- If it’s some type of fruit or flavor, he’ll start eating those things more often. Especially around you, sending a subliminal message that he enjoys it and hoping you get the hint.

Miguel

- Some of Miguel’s other senses like sight and smell are heightened to make up for the missing Spidey-sense other Spider-people have.

- Even when you’re not standing right next to him, that scent lingers. It fills his head and sends his blood roaring through his veins.

- When he eventually gets you alone, he takes the opportunity to run his fingers through your hair, pressing his face into the side of your neck.

- “Are you trying to get a rise out of me, amor? Is that it?” “Well it’s working…”

Spot

- Even though he doesn’t have a face in the traditional sense, Johnny can still (somewhat) taste and smell.

- The poor man misses his hair, so he lives vicariously through yours. He likes to run his fingers through it, braid it, just touch it in general.

- When he finds out you’ve switched soaps, he’s all over it.

- He gives you random, awkward little compliments about how nice your hair smells, hoping to God he doesn’t sound like a weirdo… (he does, but you love him for it anyway)

[buddiesmutslut]

Okay, so I want Buddie to get together before Chris comes home, right? So, they get Chris, spend a few days getting everyone settled back into the swing of things, and then either 1) they don't get a chance to tell him, or 2) they do, and it doesn't go great (which I feel like is something that's going to happen regardless, I need Christopher to be an angsty teen with abandonment issues in 4k)

BUT

Before they can sit down again and figure everything out, they get a call for another wildfire or a crossover or whatever that requires them to leave town for a little bit.

Obviously, Eddie can't go, because he just got Christopher back home and he really doesn't want to leave him again, even temporarily, but Buck has to go because people need help.

Cue Buck & Eddie spending time apart for the first time since they got together, sleeping in different beds hundreds of miles away from the other, and both spiraling a little bit. Eddie because he's worried that Buck is finally getting some time away from him and the mess that he was in Chris' absence and is worried that he doesn't want to keep wading through Eddie's problems,

And Buck because Chris is back now, and what if Eddie doesn't need him anymore? What if he was just a stand-in or a placeholder for Chris, but now his son is back and Eddie is on his own two feet again and what if he doesn't need Buck anymore, and if he doesn't need him, then why would he keep him around?

Extra points if telling Chris doesn't go well so they're trying to figure that out and cell service is spotty and they don't know what the other is thinking because they're so far away and if they were closer, they would just be together and solve the problem, but they're not so they're relying on delayed messages and downed phone lines and a game of phone tag.

And then, obviously, Buck gets home, and they realize they were spiraling over nothing because they've been building a life together for far longer than the few months they've been kissing, and Buck sits and talks with Christopher, and everything is fine.

AND THEN I NEED TIM TO LEAVE THEIR RELATIONSHIP ALONE. No breakups like in a lot of other main couples (Chenford, Booth & Brennan, I'm looking at you guys.) no! None of that! They've suffered enough, give them plot lines without breaking them up.

Give them better arcs with their parents, BRING US EDDIE'S GODDAMN SISTERS and the drama I K N O W is hiding there. Give us Buck focusing on his career (and also maybe slip in an official ADHD diagnosis, what, who said that?) Give us them talking about raising another kid, kill off an obscure family member and a stroll down memory lane (I absolutely do not mean Isabel Diaz, you keep your filthy paws OFF Eddie's abuela, bitches. I love her so so so so much lol).

Give them character arcs that have nothing to do with them possibly breaking up. They deserve storyline's that are more than just about their love interest. Literally, Buck's coming out wasn't even about him, it was all about Tommy and I'm so sick of it. Buck and Eddie are interesting characters! They are M A I N characters, give them better storylines. (Esp Eddie bc genuinely, wtf have you all done to my boy??)

[buckybarnesss]

Something I think is interesting is how Stiles and Scott both have troubled childhoods but it's very under the radar. Almost invisible.

Physical abuse, like what we see with Isaac's dad, is very visible. Everyone sees it and says "yes that is abuse."

But Stiles being left alone at the hospital with his dying, delusion mother? Scott's dad being a drunken, violent mess?

It's hidden.

I think this is why the sheriff is so beloved: the trauma he caused Stiles isn't something easily recognizable unless you've had experiences with a parent who tells you to your face that you're a troublemaker. I think this is why Scott's instinctive reaction to Derek is so divisive: it's a trauma response that is going unrecognized because Scott and Stiles don't really talk about it.

it really does fly under the radar that each of the og main cast of teens are deeply troubled one way or another.

teen wolf gets dismissed so easily because it is a campy, silly show that isn't some high brow avant garde piece of television. people online only know it because of the shipping or because jeff davis isn't the best at understanding how time works.

it's also in turn dismissed because it's not buffy or angel and only see it as some emulation that only existed to try to cash in on the twilight craze.

which fair. i'm certainly not going to argue it's prestige television but teen wolf contains multitudes actually. it says something actually.

at it's very heart the show is about generational trauma and overcoming said trauma. it's about growing up. it's about grief. it's about loneliness.

teen wolf says "be your own anchor". teen wolf says the people you choose to have in your life -- your pack --they make you stronger. teen wolf says even when you are at your lowest you can still rise.

it's not perfect by any means but i think people dismiss it too easily.

it tried.

but no one wants my treatise on the underlying themes of silly ol' teen wolf.

scott and stiles resolutely do not talk about their respective issues. it's unspoken between them. they don't need to because they know.

stiles is actively and openly hostile to rafael mccall for a reason. scott is quietly radiating worry and concern when stiles appears to be losing it in riddled because he knows about claudia.

the parents aren't prefect in this show. they are various shades of bad parents.

knowing rafael mccall is an alcoholic that all but abandoned his family explains everything about scott's attitude and behavior towards derek in season 1 and 2.

(no really i need to know if rafael paid melissa child support because it doesn't seem like it. throw this whole man away.)

knowing stiles has unresolved grief about not just the death of his mother but from the trauma of her illness on the family explains why he is the way he is. (the stilinski's storyline is one of the best carried emotional beats of the show).

and it's not like it's just scott and stiles.

lydia's parents are in the middle of a divorce in s1, her father talks shit about her in the parent teacher conference in the tell. he's seen when she's in the hospital after being attacked by peter but he's never seen again after that. it's natalie we see tell lydia about her mother-in-law lorraine so it seems lydia's father had his own trauma and ditched his daughter. natalie is the only parent lydia has from s2 onwards and natalie is spotty at best.

i've gone over allison's abusive family. jackson has so many issues he became a kanima instead of a werewolf. kira has sooooo many issues with noshiko. malia's traumas have traumas. liam has IED and an unexplained absent biological parent.

even the parents have trauma. chris argent has gerard as a father. the man would sell him for a bugle chip. noah stilinski had an abusive father. melissa was in an abusive marriage with an alcoholic.

and of course the king of trauma on television himself -- derek hale.

not all trauma is seen and not all abuse leaves marks on your skin.

[lookwhatyoudidithasanxiety]

//Sooo I wanted to give an update.

First off: I'm working on the next chapter! I'm also working out the chapter after this one, I just don't know when it'll be written. (Picture for proof - it's only 50 words shy of 2500!)

Second: I wanted to sincerely apologize for my spotty presence on here. Especially since I said I'd be on this last weekend and wasn't. I'll leave an explanation under the read more below, but just know that life has been...something. I'm not complaining and I'm not looking for sympathy, but I feel like you all deserved an explanation.

My goal is to finish up the chapter and get it posted as soon as I can. I don't know when that'll be with everything that's happening, but I wanted people to know that I'm not abandoning this blog or the story. I just can't give any good timelines right now with everything going on in my life.

I'll leave my detailed explanation below, but don't feel obligated to read it. Thank you for your patience and I'm sorry again. TW for mention of bugs/pests.//

So a few things have happened in my life. I don't know if I shared it here before (I think I may have briefly mentioned it late last year), but my relationship with my parents is complicated and rocky. As such, sometimes I'll be doing great living my own life, other times they'll feel the need to call me every day and text me all the time. Now that my mother has more health issues, it's gotten worse. But that issue is somewhat managed now.

Secondly, the most glaring thing that's been making it difficult. I go out to see people in their homes for work. Well, one person I went to lied about not having any sorts of pests or bugs and I didn't find out until after I'd been there. That was three weeks ago. I thought that I didn't have anything and that I'd taken care of any potential bugs (I've been frantically checking everything and cleaning and spraying for the last three weeks. No joke.) Spoiler: I did not. I now have a bug infestation in my home that's been causing a lot of issues with my mental health. I won't get into how it's impacting my mental health, but let's just say I don't sleep well at all at night. Pest control just called me today to tell me they won't be able to treat until Monday. So I'm stuck in a home with bugs until I can go to someone else's home Saturday and quarantine in one of her spare rooms with my animals until after they treat next week. I'm also working from home because I can't go to work until after they treat, so I'm stuck in my home quarantining...with bugs. Also can't see my counselor in-person until they've treated, so (":

And then I somehow dropped my phone in the toilet last weekend, so I didn't have a good phone to try and answer asks on until yesterday.

Does all this sound far-fetched? Yes. But it's true. When it rains it pours, I guess ^^' I swear I'm trying to post on here and get things written, but things keep happening. And like I said, my mental health hasn't been great. It isn't awful like it was last year! But I'm really anxious and not sleeping well. I want to get the story updated and written as soon as possible, but I won't promise when that'll be because I don't want to break any more promises.

If you've read this part, thank you for listening. Like I said, things will be ok and they're getting worked out, it's just taking time.

[the-fort-official]

THE CITIZENS:

PRIME APPLES: great and powerful leader of the fort. He may not be fair, or mature, or kind, or just... But honestly who cares he is funny sometimes.

Robo-Prime: he is back from the grasp of the average arcade owner in whatever fucked up sub-multiverse the text doctors live in. And by average I mean only, apparently. Anyways, he is basically prime but with more offense and less defense. Yes, the robot can take less hits than the human. Ironic, I know

Robo apples: head of engineering, and avid hater of fazbear entertainment. His past with them is spotty at best. Also, he doesn't like pizza. Which is weird. Probably trauma...

Control Apples: head of science and with the ability to express himself as well as a cardboard cutout. He does feel emotions, he just cannot show them. At all. Something about one of those therapy beds that was a O.O.P. (Object Of Power). He also likes burning things. Like, more than most Versions.

The tank (formerly known as Fallout apples): bright green power armor, yet blends in better than some people with stealth boys. Want to try to silence a fat man? He's your guy. Also for drugs. He makes all the drugs. ex-soldier of three wars. One for Alaska. One for Vegas. One for Boston. All three for his survival. And maybe fun on that last one.

Felix (fur-merly known as Fursona apples):, Engineer, former leader of the Regrettables (both the faction and the band). He got his time in the limelight. Now he is a actual character! And with the free trauma too. Also he made a lil ring to propose with so... don't tell Will.

Looper: robotic* mercenary for hire. Hope you got the gold! Also there are hundreds of him running around because of time loop shenanigans. Some of them even canonically fuck. Do with that information what you probably won't. (*He isn't a robot, technically. It's a techno-organic virus. He still has all the bits, just robotic. Minus nose, unless it's a snapshot of him with a snout. )

Fog killer: Also known as the apple themed streamer, the apple themed mayor, and the guy with a bigger arcade than @the-arcade-doctor, he is a totally normal and sane botanist trust me bro. Ignore the vines slowly leeching all your blood that's natural. (Now available to talk to on the @evil-group-that-hates-the-fort blog :3. )

Fog survivor: He is an engineer. He solves practical problems. Also works as a medic. He used to be scared of his own shadow. Now nothing phases him. Except getting stabbed because that still hurts.

Clone 007: traumatized asshole with no sense of friendly fire. He will kill anything in his way, no matter if they are helping him or not. Also he has extreme trauma, abandoned issues, and mood swings. The last one isn't related to his past, it's related to his very DNA.

Cashew: A young creature in an old automaton. He is basically a nutcracker from lethal company with some damages. And shorter. Still taller than the average dude, but small for a nutcracker.

Zweifel: What happens when you put a teen so far in the closet he tricked himself into thinking he isnt gay, into a endless colorful hell of wacky whimsical adventures? A hatred of the circus and a fear of vr.

The Angel Of hypocrisy, Nicholai: A homophobic and transphobic douchebag who should eat shit and die. Depending on which version you meet, the name makes more or less sense. Because post time skip, he gets a trans-mask boyfriend who he loves with all his heart. Even ignoring the fact his boyfriend is a serial killer. (If I reference El Carnicero, this is who I'm referring to)

Pixel: Kleptomaniac heister with more kills from just using the environment to his advantage than with his actual weapons.

Stuffie (Formerly known as Monster Apples.): see @plushiemonstervoid I ain't repeating myself.

Satchel: living puppet made from old junk like torn towels and potato sacks. He is tall, lanky, and overall intimidating. He is also a complete pushover who literally can only attack with yarn. Normal yarn. Not exactly lethal.

Demons-Bane: a demon that kills demons. Simple as that.

Warface Apples: currently turned into an anthropomorphic raven for fuckin with... I don't remember, one of @ignisuada 's characters. Generic military dude #171. Nothing special.

Warframe apples: Sneaky, but like stealth in the Deadpool game. He has lore, I just forgot it.

Metal gear apples: god im not even going to bother trying to tie this fucker in with all the bullshit lore this game has. He is a super-soldier. He has a flamethrower. That is all thats important at this point in his non-existent lore.

More to come. Check for edits. Lore is ever-changing after all.

[the-fiction-witch]

HoneyBear

Media IRL

Character Thomas Brodie Sangster

Couple Thomas X Reader

Rating Sweet + Sad

Concept Helping

Warnings Depression and self-harm

I was admittedly a little nervous. But I had to do it. I'd been away filming in Australia for about nine months without a break to come home it was amazing as working always is especially doing something this big and honestly this good. Even if I had definitely had a few big waves of homesickness the sort I never had before after all my years in this job. 

I guess that was because of y/n. 

I'd always had girlfriends of course and a lot of the time they were always who I missed the most. But y/n's different. 

We'd been friends for years and eventually after a lot of pushing and nervous dates we became a couple. And I've never been happier, she was everything I wanted and everything I needed. Honestly I wanted to marry her but we haven't even been dating for a year. I imagine everyone would go a little mad if I tried to marry her now. 

But I was worried. She's been dealing with alot and I know she hasn't been doing well, she wasn't that great before I left and I made a point to make sure even though I was literally the other side of the planet I wanted to make sure I called, texted her, left her messages and sent her home presents trying to make sure she didn't feel abandoned while I was gone. 

Of course now I'm home I wanted nothing else in the world then to see her. Even if Jack had warned me when he picked me up she that she hadn't been good. Apparently there was some issues with her boss and she went down a bit of a depressive spiral while I was gone. It did unfortunately happen to her alot but usually I'd be here to help her or atleast talk her down on the phone if I was away. I felt awful for abandoning her while I was gone but I had cleared my calendar now I'm back so I could see her and hopefully take care of her as best I could. 

I didn't know just how bad she would be. I didn't wanna ask and I doubt jack really knew anyway, I know about her boss and about the situation so I wasn't imagining it being good. 

I arrived at her little London apartment on the first floor of what was once a basic three floor London town house since it was split by her landline into three one floor apartments. She has the ground floor meaning she also has a small back garden. I went up to her little purple door giving it a firm rhythmic knock holding the strap of my leather bag as I waited on her doorstep. No answer, that's strange? So I knocked again this time a little louder. Perhaps she was in the garden and couldn't hear me, or maybe stood beside her impossibly loud kettle. But still no answer. So I grabbed my phone and called her after about four rings. She answered, sounding quiet and snuffy like she'd been crying "hello?"

"Hey honey I'm outside" 

"Ohh I'm coming" she says hanging up the phone I waited a minute more and she pulled open the door, she stood on her door mat in her little bear claw slippers, long blue gingham pj pants that I'm convinced I once owned but clearly not anymore, her extra large pokemon hoodie with snorlax on the front, her hair up in a messy matted bun with one of her usual spotted fabric ties to hold it up. No make up her face red, dirty and a little spotty. But I didn't care I was so happy to see her 

"Hi honeybear" I smiled giving her a tight squeeze and a kiss "I've missed you"

"I missed you too Thomas" she says even if she didn't cuddle me back

"Can I come in?" I asked given we had been on her doorstep for a good minute or two now 

"Uhhhhh… well I guess" she sighed letting me in shutting the door behind me as I headed into her little apartment.

I did my best not to react. In anyway. As I know that would make her feel worse. The kitchen was full of dishes and cups and bags of trash by the back door. The floor was dirty and dusty with clothes and bags littered across it. A dominos pizza box with God only knows how old half a pizza in it. Her bed unmade things all over her bedroom and bathroom too. Everything dirty, dusty and messy the whole place has a smell of old food and unwashed… everything it actually seemed as if she hadn't even cleaned or hoovered since I left and honestly by the look and smell of her I'm not sure she'd showered either. And even though the place was a tip she just pushed some laundry to the side and sat down on the sofa with a blanket and her little build a Bear brown teddy wearing bee clothes I made her when we first started dating.

"Uuuuuuuhhh… fuck. I uhhh I didn't think it would be this bad"

"Sorry"

"No no it's uhhh" I began sitting in the chair as best I could "y/n? How'd it get like this?"

"I don't know. Just did I guess everything kinda just exploded and I had to stop and… now I don't really know how to start again,"

"Ohh you poor thing. You see that it's bad right?"

"I see it. I just… don't know where to begin"

"Well sitting in all this isn't going to help I know it's hard sometimes physically impossible but in here now. And I promise I'm going to help as much or as little as you want me too" I told her giving her head a kiss "okay?"

"Okay" she nods 

"That's my girl" I cooed "first things first trash because trash is easy" I smiled "I'll do that okay, give you some space to breathe" 

I got up and began gathering things up and throwing them away or into the washing pile In Front of her machine just giving it a once over to give us some room to focus until I got to the table "I'm going to be brave here. How long has this been here?"

"I don't remember"

"When did you last order pizza?"

"Yesterday"

"This has been here longer the yesterday"

"Three weeks ago" 

"Oh my god. Okay," I sighed quickly getting it into a bag without touching or breathing close to it and she began to cry "whoa whoa what's wrong?" I asked giving her a hug as she cried 

"I'm sorry"

"What are you sorry for?"

"Your mad at me"

"I'm not mad at you, I'm not angry at your honeybear I promise I'm not. I'm not angry with you I'm worried about you. You could have gotten so sick just from having that in your living room. You could have gotten really sick." I told her 

"I'm sorry I don't know how it all got like this"

"It's alright I know how hard it is sometimes. How about you take buzzy and get a little nap okay" I told her handing her the bear

"But that's-"

"Please. Get some rest don't worry your head it'll do you good" I told her she nods and slithered away to her room so I tucked her in and gave her a kiss "have a nice nap my little honeybear I'll take care of you" 

I shut her door quietly and waiting till I could hear her sleeping and I cleaned up everything I could throwing away all the trash putting on a few loads of laundry, I dusted and hoovered and even did all her dishes putting them all away for her I even put on one of her nice wax melts to make the place smell nice. Often sneaking into her room to clean around her bed for her. Even setting her blankets and pillows on the sofa with her little bears so we could cuddle later. She was still asleep so I got my phone and ordered some groceries for delivery as she had no food in the house now, filling her fridge and cupboards to the brim with her favorite snacks, her favorite foods, favorite drinks and making sure to put a bunch of her favorite ice pops in the freezer for her. Once all sorted I smiled and went to her bedroom "honeybear? Helloooooo?" I whispered crawling into her bed peppering her and her teddy with kisses "ummmm hello" I smiled as she began to stir 

"Hello Thomas" she cracked a small smile 

"Did you have a nice nap?"

"I did"

"Hey, how's about I run you a beautiful bubble bath? Hey? I know you love your bubble baths when did you last have one?"

"I can't remember"

"Uhhh not to be rude y/n how long has it been since you had a shower?"

"I honestly don't remember"

"Yeah didn't wanna say anything but… yeah. I can tell you on your period cause of smells right now"

"I'm not"

"Ohh god. Okay I will run you a nice very bubbly bath" I told her"and maybe we wash buzzy?" 

"Okay" she sighed handing over the bear which I quickly put in the machine to wash and dry so it would be ready when she got out her bath I went to her bathroom and ran her a nice hot bath with muscle soak, bubble bath, btah salts, bath… potion? Whatever it is it's going in, all of it lavender or flower scented to keep it all in theme, I got her two bath bombs the first an extra large purple lust bath bomb so scented I'm convinced I may have eaten some I tasted so much on my tounge in fact the bath bomb in her bath the wax melt in the living room were having a scent fight. And I also got her a nice lilac love heart that I sat on her little bath bridge with her scrunchie and her favourite fancy body wash she usually only uses for going out, as well as her honey shampoo and conditioner as they always made her smile and of course they were the reason I called her my honey bear as on an early date as we cuddled up her hair smelt so much of honey I was actually convinced she may have put honey on her head and we laughed about it and had some honey on toast ever since I'd called her honeybear. Once the bath was run and perfect I fetched her "come on little bear time for your bath"

"Fine" she sighed slowly coming in 

"You get in and relax while I change your bed okay"

"You don't have to-"

"Get in the tub. Or I'll sheep dip you" I warn her 

"Noooo" she whines

"Go on then" I told her so she began to get changed admittedly I couldn't help but look at her having missed her so badly while I was gone but i gave her some privacy and headed back to her bedroom stripping off her bed and immediately three the sheets away I'm not going to try and wash them just throw them away I'll buy her new ones. I went back tidied her room for her flipping the mattress and making the bed with her favorite bedding the little duvet cover and pillow cases white on one side with little bees doing loop the loops and the other side dark orange honeycomb pattern making her bed up with her blankets and pillows and a special place for her bear once he was done in the Washing machine. I imagined y/n would be back by now but she hadn't so I went to the bathroom seeing her sat in the water surrounded by bubbles her legs pulled to her chest 

"Ohh y/n" I went over getting a little chair and moving to sit beside her tub at first rubbing her skin with the bubbles "would you like some help?" I asked and she nods "okay, take your ribbon out and we'll wash your hair"

"I did" she says handing me the ribbon she had in her hair and yet her hair hadn't moved 

"Okay" well that's a problem.

I got her brush and her conditioner as I would definitely be needing it slowly but surely Washing her hair using her nice shampoo and conditioner brushing the matted knots out of her hair it was clear she'd put it up like this just after I left and hadn't done anything with it since. She was often teary but I always have her kisses and reassured her I imagine it likely hurt alot as I brushed and brushed and brushed using pretty much the whole bottle of conditioner. "There we go all beautiful again" I cooed giving her cheek a kiss as I finished with her hair "hey all pretty. Now you can have your nice … well now lukewarm bath" I told her gently and playfully helping her as she slowly came out of this sadness I was stopped however upon seeing her arms and her thighs that she had done her best to keep hidden all this time I didn't mention in even if I knew some where fresh I just held her hand and brought her arm over giving her skin a million kisses 

"Are you upset with me?" She asks

"No. No I'm not it's okay. I just wish you'd role me you wh re feeling that bad. Please I don't want things to get this bad again I'm not upset I'm not blaming you. Just please of it gets this bad please tell me. You know if have thrown home months earlier if id known you were feeling this bad" 

"I know. I didn't want to be any trouble"

"It's no trouble really. I'd rather you tell me so I can come home and help you rather then… having to clean up the aftermath. I love you you know I do. hey. my little honeybear. I'm not going anywhere not till your better"

"What if I'm never any better"

"Then I'm not going anywhere. Ever again." I told her "your more important that my job. Always." I told her "you enjoy the rest of your bath I'll get you some nice clean clothes and your teddy okay? Then we'll make cheesy pie," I told her giving her one more kiss and heading out

"Thomas?"

"Yeah?" 

"Thank you"

"Your welcome"

"I love you very much*

"I love you more" 

[through-fire-and-flame]

( So yeah, I’m going to try to write more often.

A short explanation for the spotty attendance: I write for a living. My day job is writing news stories for a Native American-centric news company, and my side gig is writing TTRPG design stuff as a freelancer. I write a lot, and for a little while there, I was writing so frequently and doing so much design work that when I would glance at my tumblr and think, well, I need to post something there, people are following me, and then the will to do so would just leave.

Lately I’ve found writing my own stuff off the clock to be easier, though - a combination of reading old threads (thanks @yellowfingcr) and slowly disconnecting from some of the 10+ TTRPG games I was trying to run made it so I was less worn out when I found myself with free time.

And, if I’m being honest, Laurentius is like an old, well-fitted shirt - putting him on is comfortable. He’s as aspirational a reverse-self insert as he’s ever been: accidentally charming, perpetually kind, and desperately fixated on making sure everyone around him is safe and well. Whatever issues I might be running into writing TTRPG villains or cobbling together stories about Indian Country, I never have a problem writing Laurentius. The poor bastard has been my longest lasting, most consistently engaging muse by a country mile.

So - I can’t promise that the bevy of abandoned threads won’t return, or that I’ll never have another period of can’t do it can’t do it. I can’t promise the posts will be prolific and hand-crafted art, each and all, rather than muddled and exploratory nonsense meant to flex my vocabulary for internal dialogue like a disused muscle.

But folks have stuck around this long, to a point. I’ll do my best to respect that while I continue writing the World’s Friendliest Fireball. )

[cyberpunk-life]

He rang off, then searched in the cupboards of the kitchen for a broom (manual or self-powered) or vacuum cleaner (helium battery or wall socket). Neither could be found. Evidently he had never been issued any sort of cleaning equipment by the building’s supply agency. Hell of a time, he thought, to find that out. And he had lived here four years.

Picking up the vidphone, he dialed 214, the extension for the maintenance circuit of the building. “Listen,” he said, when the homeostatic entity answered. “I’m now in a position to divert some of my funds in the direction of settling my bill vis-à-vis your clean-up robots. I’d like them up here right now to go over my apt. I’ll pay the full and entire bill when they’re finished.”

“Sir, you’ll pay your full and entire bill before they start.”

By now he had his billfold in hand; from it he dumped his supply of Magic Credit Keys—most of which, by now, had been voided. Probably in perpetuity, his relationship with money and the payment of pressing debts being such as it was. “I’ll charge my overdue bill against my Triangular Magic Key,” he informed his nebulous antagonist. “That will transfer the obligation out of your jurisdiction; on your books it’ll show as full restitution.”

“Plus fines, plus penalties.”

“I’ll charge those against my Heart-Shaped—”

“Mr. Chip, the Ferris & Brockman Retail Credit Auditing and Analysis Agency has published a special flier on you. Our recept-slot received it yesterday and it remains fresh in our minds. Since July you’ve dropped from a triple G status creditwise to quadruple G. Our department—in fact this entire conapt building—is now programed against an extension of services and/or credit to such pathetic anomalies as yourself, sir. Regarding you, everything must hereafter be handled on a basic-cash subfloor. In fact, you’ll probably be on a basic-cash subfloor for the rest of your life. In fact—”

He hung up. And abandoned the hope of enticing and/or threatening the clean-up robots into entering his muddled apt. Instead, he padded into the bedroom to dress; he could do that without assistance.

After he had dressed—in a sporty maroon wrapper, twinkle-toes turned-up shoes and a felt cap with a tassel—he poked about hopefully in the kitchen for some manifestation of coffee. None. He then focused on the living room and found, by the door leading to the bathroom, last night’s greatcape, every spotty blue yard of it, and a plastic bag which contained a half-pound can of authentic Kenya coffee, a great treat and one which only while pizzled would he have risen to. Especially in view of his current abominable financial situation.

Back in the kitchen he fished in his various pockets for a dime, and, with it, started up the coffeepot. Sniffing the—to him—very unusual smell, he again consulted his watch, saw that fifteen minutes had passed; he therefore vigorously strode to the apt door, turned the knob and pulled on the release bolt.

The door refused to open. It said, “Five cents, please.”

He searched his pockets. No more coins; nothing. “I’ll pay you tomorrow,” he told the door. Again it remained locked tight. “What I pay you,” he informed it, “is in the nature of a gratuity; I don’t have to pay you.”

“I think otherwise,” the door said. “Look in the purchase contract you signed when you bought this conapt.”

In his desk drawer he found the contract; since signing it he had found it necessary to refer to it many times. Sure enough; payment to his door for opening and shutting constituted a mandatory fee. Not a tip.

“You discover I’m right,” the door said. It sounded smug.

From the drawer beside the sink Joe Chip got a stainless steel knife; with it he began systematically to unscrew the bolt assembly of his apt’s money-gulping door.

“I’ll sue you,” the door said as the first screw fell out. Joe Chip said, “I’ve never been sued by a door. But I guess I can live through it.”

A knock sounded on the door. “Hey, Joe, baby, it’s me, G. G. Ashwood. And I’ve got her right here with me. Open up.”

“Put a nickel in the slot for me,” Joe said. “The mechanism seems to be jammed on my side.”

~ Philip K Dick—Ubik (1969)

[thewickedbohemian]

Thoughts on a Tracker that really showed how much of a RPG the show feels like (and also took a turn for the southern gothic potentially confirming magic in that universe)

singing, that's a new one for ways to open an episode

here comes trouble

and I'm not talking about the snake

a little bit of Velma backstory

Colter must have just kept his Airstream parked hours away where it was

I'm not just saying this because of the part of Kentucky they're in but this is starting to get a little "You'll Never Leave Harlan Alive"

that's a lot of dead animals

creepy dog for a creepy dude

well he's not hiding something /s

rhetorically asking if she's a witch why was she singing a Christian spiritual (unless either she was doing some kind of Christian mysticism, it was just the healing no other magick or "Wayfaring Stranger" has a backstory and original lyrics I don't know about)

that's one ice-cold manager and I saw what she did to his coffee

so a potential relationship issue

no, she was a healer (and the guy's nicer than you'd think once Colter made him drop his weapon)

I can't make out half of what he's saying through his accent

thank frak Colter's tracking in the light

but shouldn't he not be going there alone esp. with spotty cell service

witch has a hut in the woods, nice

how the heck can he call the bro

so healing was a family business

found the compound of whatever-the-hell-they-are and there's the girl

and Colter managed to safely run through their gun range

a whole lot of convenient flora so he can get through with nothing but crossbow jumpscare

no way they didn't hear him get in the house

that must be why they wanted a healer

found her via her singing

so her healing doesn't take because they're dumbasses and whether magick exists in the Tracker universe is as ambiguous as if aliens do

Chekhov's bang stick (I kept wanting to think land mine because of that Doctor Who episode)

and now things have taken a turn a bit for the Last Of Us

desperate times call for hiding in the creepy abandoned store full of mannequins

does he have another knife or did he just (even temporarily) give her his bro's

that's one way to get around low ammo

we know he doesn't die here of course so let's see how (y'know, "Scorpion climax")

cue the improvised smoke bomb and the damsel saving herself

enjoy crossbow karma

I figured it was going to come down to her healing him (and she also called 911 but why didn't they show up)

looks like her healing the dad actually worked (hmm...worldbuilding implications)

I know she's bluffing but who knows

and then you cut to the coroner truck and scare the crap out of me

did Colter feel like he was saving his sister this whole time

how is he well enough to be able to discharge himself etc., her healing, luck or something more intriguing

bro rewards him, sis rewards him

and they're gone (perhaps another evocative parallel doylistically)

sure he can call Dory let's see if he actually follows through on the getting together or w/e he might have wanted her to call him about

[cielhunternorwood]

Another Bit of Rambling

I feel like taking some time to write out some self-reflection and issues, given that I'm getting bogged down a lot lately by things that make writing a bit hard (though thankfully I can still crank out silly videos about Gray Raven).

So, a little bit of knowledge about me that I'm comfortable enough to share, I am the youngest of three children whose parents divorced very early in my life. Due to circumstances, custody of course ended up with our mother who is, to keep it brief, a manipulative self-centered bitch.

I've heard people say things about how the youngest is always treated the best in families, and I will say now that it is the furthest from the truth, at least for me. I was treated the worst, often given hand-me-downs, and always expected to measure up to my older siblings in terms of school performance.

The problem is exacerbated by the handling of education that I won't detail, but there was a time when I did meet those expectations. At the time, though, it still felt like I was disappointing the mother due to "not being perfect." Thus, I developed learned helplessness. Despite always doing my best and trying to be self-sufficient, it was never good enough for her. It even led to me having panic attack dreams: bringing in a perfect, straight-A report card but still being yelled at for seemingly no reason.

Let me reinforce this a little. Learned helplessness is EXTREMELY difficult to overcome, especially if it's something from early in life. It is doubly so when you're constantly trapped in situations or occupations where you're overlooked in spite of the incredible amount of effort put into whatever work is your responsibility.

This has led to more than just problems maintaining good work ethic but also taking physical care of myself. That kind of lack of attention has caught up a lot in the last few years, and it's caused its share of issues. I accepted a lot of this due to a huge lack of self-worth caused by these issues.

Nowadays, I definitely have a much better work ethic and try better to take care of myself, but the heavy anxiety that comes from all of that is still there. It has a habit of resurfacing thanks to issues at the current job where I'm being discriminated against by the store manager for reasons I still don't understand.

The combination of anxiety and physical stresses due to lack of care takes its toll and makes the problems at work so much more impactful because there's just too much going wrong in my life and around me. Naturally, this sometimes leads to me just potato-ing into video games and not doing anything actually productive with my off time.

Thankfully, the Average Player videos are actually doing okay, so it feels like there's some actual feedback on things I've made, even if they're just silly short videos with music slapped over them. It's bringing in some more motivation to work on things, but the problems and anxieties are always there.

Again, this is probably one of the hardest psychological issues to overcome, and with a past of dealing with some shady psychiatrists who misdiagnosed me with depression and what-not, it's something I'm slowly overcoming by just making whatever I can and throwing it out to the world.

I'll always appreciate when I worked on the October's Run comic, despite being very spotty on later uploads for it, because it felt like an actual accomplishment. That's also why I don't want to completely abandon it, instead remaking it into something different and in its own universe.

Slowly, I'm taking the "it will never be good enough," that I learned as a child and turning it into "It's good, and I'll get better over time." It's been a very long process, with a lot of giving up in the past, but I've reached a point in my life where I'm tired of giving up, where I know I'm worth far more than that self-centered bitch made me feel.

Even if the results of my own neglect, self-inflicted or otherwise, are catching up more, I'm just glad to finally be in a position where I'm able to push myself to make something and receive some recognition, no matter how small it is.

As of right now, my writing is focused on something outside of but related to OR, because I have a rather ambitious idea to combine it with a much older writing idea that I had to put on hold for several reasons. I might make a post talking a bit about it, but right now I'm doing a lot of character work before doing anymore actual writing. As with any story, the most important aspect is the characters, so I need to make sure they're solid first.

I haven't given up on any of it. It just might be delayed by life hitting me really hard lately. I hate to say I'm used to it, but I'm learning how to punch back. Here's hoping I land a winning punch sometime soon.

[cutthroatkindness]

I don't know if I've posted here about this yet but the day we completely moved into our new apartment and we're henceforth sleeping there from then on, my phone decided to go all funky and since then I've had incredibly spotty data. I'm supposed to have unlimited data with my signal always saying LTE but instead its been saying E, which is the second slowest signal speed. There's literally a cell tower near by so it's not my area, I've cleaned out my SIM card, restarted multiple times, cleared my caches, ect and nothing. The worst part is it's affecting incoming and outgoing texts and calls too and it's just a HORRIBLE time for that to be happening. We moved to an area I am completely unfamiliar with and it's just so different. I'm stuck in the apartment all day because we only have one key set so far and my bf takes them. He has to take the bus to work now when I'm used to him just having to walk up the street. I have abandonment issues due to loss mixed with OCD and a true crime obsession and I think being in a new place was a trigger and I can't stop irrationally thinking he's going to get hurt or murdered any time he's not in the house. I know it's irrational but that's OCD for you.

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Seeing Red

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/qhi1kxV

by AhsokaJackson

Red Robin understands his role in the Batfamily by now.

He stays around enough to be counted as present.

He engages enough to be counted as useful.

He avoids enough to be counted as convenient.

The rules of being a Drake-Wayne are much the same.

It's been a hard lesson, but Tim understands his relationship to the Waynes quite well.

…The only problem is that they still don't seem to understand—which is pretty frustrating, given that they're the very ones who necessitated setting up the current rules of engagement. And Bruce is really a little young to have such a spotty memory already.

Still, the teenaged CEO of Wayne Enterprises is nothing if not a dutiful son, so if Bruce keeps pressing him for answers, well…Tim juuust might have to oblige.

=======

A gift for Batbirdies & lurkinglurkerwholurks

Words: 2009, Chapters: 1/5, Language: English

Fandoms: Batman (Comics), Batman: The Animated Series, Batman and Robin (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), DCU (Comics)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Gen

Characters: Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, Koriand'r (DCU)

Relationships: Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Koriand'r, Koriand'r & Jason Todd

Additional Tags: BAMF Tim Drake, Feral Tim Drake, POV Tim Drake, Tim Drake-centric, Tim Drake & Jason Todd Friendship, Tim Drake and Jason Todd are Siblings, Tim Drake Angst, Tim Drake Deserves Happiness, Tim Drake Deserves Better, Tim Drake Gets a Hug, Tim Drake has the self preservation instincts of a wet paper bag, Tim Drake is Not Okay, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, BAMF Jason Todd, Ethnically Ambiguous Jason Todd, Jason Todd Deserves Happiness, Jason Todd is a good brother, Jason Todd Is a Pissy Mother Hen, Protective Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Bruce Wayne is a Bad Parent, He's Trying but Mediocre Here and Needs to Do Better Okay, God bless Alfred, Abandonment Issues, Anxiety, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bromance, Brotherly Love, Bruce Wayne's No-Killing Rule, C-PTSD, Caretaking, Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Dissociation, Emotional Abuse, Family Feels, Fix-It, Hurt & Comfort, Jack and Janet Drake's A+ Parenting, Major Character Injury, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Medical Inaccuracies, Multilingual Characters, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Protectiveness, PTSD, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Sickfic, touch starvation, Unreliable Narrator, Batcest-B-Gone, Hair Pets for Envy, The Batkids are Erudite and Don't You Forget It, Too Many Tags We Die Like Graffiti Artists, We Need Gen Fics, Yo Bruce We Need a Juice Box

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/qhi1kxV

[longdeadblonde]

About Fausta

NAME: Fausta Warren. ALIAS: Faustina Blackburn, Theophania Warden. AGE: 10-27. TITLE: Princess, High Priestess. SPECIES: Demonic nephilim subspecies. GENDER: Cisfemale OCCUPATION: Elementary school student (verse dependent). HEIGHT: 4'2"-6'4". HAIR: Silver-white. EYES: Black-blue. FACECLAIM: Sophie Nélisse, Anya Taylor-Joy.

Personality:   Fausta is the most recent addition to the Warren clan, though her blood relation to the family is something that is heavily debated. Only a very small amount of the family has the slightest idea and those who are aware keep it a secret for reasons undisclosed. The girl has unknowingly caused a bit of a stir in the family, of course for reasons beyond her understanding or control.

  Like most children, Fausta is innocent but that doesn’t mean that it’s easy to lie to her. She seems to have a “bullshit sensor” embedded in her head to which she regularly uses to pull the “It’s not nice to lie to little kids” card. She’s also very curious and like to explore and snoop around places she probably shouldn’t. Due to her constant acrobatics, she’s very accident prone. She has this strange knowing to her, and she wields it like a shield. Like she knows something nobody else does.

  An issue that Fausta has is that she’s clingy. She hates being left behind and might even throws tantrums if she’s left at home. It wasn’t until recently that she had any real parental figures or siblings so she has an intense fear of being abandoned by them. She is also quick to anger. She takes out all her aggression on her toys. Almost all the dolls and plush toys are severely damaged and hastily patched up to the point that some are unrecognizable. Her temper is something that gets her into a lot of trouble at school since her has the bad habit of picking fights with any bullies. She’s a little scrapper too. Once she latches on, it’s a literal pain to get her off.

Biography: TRIGGER WARNING FOR SEVERE CHILD NEGLECT/ABUSE.

  Born Faustina, Fausta spent the first few years of her life in difficult conditions. Her biological father, Raphael Blackburn was a wealthy man but that wealth was not shared with his child. He clothed her, fed her, did the bare minimum, but left her alone in a dark room, chained by the ankle to a bed that was bolted down into a concrete floor. Any evidence of her existence seemed non-existent until one day, the neighbors noticed her wandering the neighborhood; barefoot, frightened, and with chains still around her ankle.

  Naturally, the authorities were notified and Fausta was quickly scooped up by social services, her father taken into police custody, he was incosolable, screaming and sobbing and praying for forgiveness for his "hubris". All he was able to disclose was that the girl was in fact his child and his responsiblity and that he had no idea where her mother could be. More than anything else, claimed that the girl should be killed for everybody's sake. Of course, these were all chalked up to be ramblings of a madman.

  Fausta spent the next year as a ward of the state, going through heavy amounts of counseling and responding very well, all things considered. She was very bright and while having her hiccups with behavioral issues, was able to thrive due to said counseling and socialization. Adopted at the age of six, the process seemed to be done heavily under wraps. This is where Faustina Blackburn's paper trail seems to grow increasingly sparse before falling off entirely and Fausta Warren's seems to creep into existence. Many of the people who worked on the girl's case can no longer say with certainty where she's ended up.

  Fausta's memories of her previous life seem to become more spotty by the day, as she mostly just remembers darkness, the blindingly bright sun, and seeing various doctors before her big sisters came to take her home one day after she'd gotten better. She lives happily with her brother and sisters, spoiled and loved. For now, at least.

[elias-code]

Prisoner 0.5 - Part I

a classic c!Technoblade x gn!reader

c!Techno/reader/c!awesam/c!Dream

Link to part 2 (NSFW, 18+)

Warnings: Significant blood, death, gore

Summary: You're here to break Techno out, but aren't super bothered bringing Dream along if Techno insisted. You and Sam fight, he's desperate to lock you in there with them but you're more desperate to get Techno out. SFW, lots of gore though! It's fluff, Dream mainly being confused and there because he has to be (lmao nothing against you big-man)

------------ ENJOY!!!!! Thank you for the notes :))))-----------

A growl rose in your throat, “Technoblade,” is the snarl that rang in the hall.

Your hands and arms were covered in nicks, cuts, and blood. The blood was not all your own.

“Ah, he’s why you’re here. I’ll tell you once again,” He panted, “Pandora’s Vault will not be having visitors,” Sam sneered at you, clutching his side where your blade had just met flesh.

Instead of slowing, you doubled down on your onslaught, intent on taking at least one of the Warden’s canon lives whether he let you into the prison or not. He’d let you come in, through the portals, before shutting them behind you and trying to pull one over on you. As soon as you’d come through the portal, you could see his sweat on his brow, holding eye contact as he had you read aloud and sign the contracts.

You knew he wasn’t going to make this easy. He’s the man holding the two strongest people in a cell together right now. He’s the one who locked your lover away.

-

“Look, I gave Phil my Will because I know you’re going to come looking for me,” Technoblade explained.

You furrowed your brow, fully knowing he was right. It didn’t ease the void forming in your stomach, already aching from his departure. “Why would I need to come looking?” He’s going to die.

“Because you worry too much,”

“Do not.” You retort. The banter was much needed. As soon as his party was over and the rest of the Syndicate took their leave, he’d told you all about his encounter with Quackity on the mountain. Both of you knew it was fishy, so you begged him not to go. If Quackity was telling the truth, he explained, and I abandoned Dream-

Secretly, you’d been worrying, planning this out. You made sure not to tell Phil, Niki, or Ranboo about it, to keep the worry to yourself. They were part of the plan to get him free in case of an emergency, but they didn’t need to know about it until he needed help.

-

As your sword met his, easily blocking a weak blow from the creeper, and you leaned into his face, “I’m not here for Dream, I’m here for Techno. Let me go and I’ll leave your other two canon lives intact.”

He grit his teeth and pushed you away, blood trails leading from his mouth down his neck. “As if I’d let you do that! I put him in here for a reason, and I intend to do the same to you.”

The fight worsened, you almost felt bad for the warden, but you had something he did not: Love. You fought because you needed him back. You weren’t lying, you really weren’t there for Dream. If Dream came with, you wouldn’t have an issue, but as far as you were concerned he deserved to be in there.

Sam, on the other hand, deserved a worse punishment. He claimed to be untainted, a strict rule follower, but he and Quackity went behind everyone’s backs to lock Techno, your boyfriend, in prison. He was a hypocrite. Not to mention, he let Ghostbur die, who you were quite fond of, and he let Tommy die and then be revived by Dream. It left the poor boy scarred, and no matter how annoying you found him, you weren’t gun-ho on the traumatizing children part of the deal.

As you parried his hits, less than flawlessly, but well enough, you pondered this. The voices in your head, as well as Techno’s were frantic. Sam set the alarm, so Techno must have known you were there for him. They screamed, SLIT HIS THROAT, RIP SAM, LET HIM KNOW WHO HE’S MESSING WITH, BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD.

Sam stumbled backwards from a particularly harsh blow, slamming into the lectern he kept the guest list on. You took your shot, aiming for the heart, you plunged your sword into his chest and through the pages behind.

“See you on the other side, Sam,” You said, almost cheerfully. He slipped from the lectern when you pulled your blade out. There was no doubt in your mind that he would be back shortly with Ant and probably some others, so you quickened your pace.

You learned from Tommy how the warden got through all of the contraptions. He’d nervously watched Sam go through those multiple times. Even though his knowledge was spotty, you were managing.

Door after door, you could hear your heart beat harder. “I’m almost there, Tech, hold on…”

Technoblade, staring through the lava, was thrilled to read Sam’s death message in the chat, but less thrilled that it was your sword that ended his life. It confirmed that you were here for him, and he never wanted to see you hurt. As much as he made fun of you for it, he was worried.

Techno’s eyes met yours as the lava receded, gazes piercing, almost as if you were trying to burn a hole in his soul. They stung with tears and felt close to melting due to the sudden lava proximity. You didn’t think about it. You had more important fish to fry.

Once you got to the other side, you ran to him, the Netherite blocks descending into the floor. Dream was cowering in the corner, thinking you were either here to come kill him or Techno. Instead, you flew into Techno’s arms, being crushed into a hug by a man who you’d just seen a couple of days prior, although it felt like an eternity.

Dream was confused, to say the least. His inventory was full of scribbles about the prison, its layout, everything Sam did, and whatever he could think of. He was taking in the sight, someone he’d never met being kissed by the only man he’d ever met that’d be able to rival him. Techno was not one to share his love story with other people, and so he failed to mention your name to Dream.

“Wh- what the fuck?” He sputtered.

“Can you get the netherite? Those are netherite blocks!” Techno pointed, you feigned interest as you swiftly mined them. You didn’t have the time but you didn’t have the heart to say no.

“Dream, nice to meet you. I’m here to get you two out. I’m Techno’s partner.”

“I didn’t know he had-“

“Do we have to bring him?” You gestured to Dream, “No offense, Mr. Dream but you seem like an asshole.” Techno chuckled.

“Dream, you ready to call in that favor?”

[adhdeancas]

wait so fellow adhder I'm I think that actually all of the TFW are actually ND. Cas has autism, dean has adhd, and hear me out, Sam has ocd. the intrusive thoughts? obsessive behavior? eating and acting clean literally to a point where it is inconvenient for everyone involved? I think he is obsessing over being clean and fresh (compared to demon blood and souless Sam, sleazy and nasty Sam) also I have a few reasons for thinking dean us adhd but y do u think so sorry I'm rambling

let’i’ve been waiting all my life for you to come into my inbox and talk to me about this

of COURSE TFW are ND!!! of course!! and yes, yes, we all know Cas has autism I love my autistic angel and i love the hc that Sam has ocd because it does fit really well!

(sectioned all of this out because it’s better for adhders to read, you get it)

his ocd directly bleeds into his poor self-esteem like you said with the demon blood! he feels the need to be pure and even though he canonically knows that these things (like eating clean, running, etc) can’t help his problem, he still tries because he kind of... has to. 

also OCD is often connected to a need for control, and the physical state of sam’s body is the one thing he has control over (which is also where we get into eating disorder territory). Sam has had so little control over his life, especially growing up, and for most his childhood, he didn’t even control what he ate (with Dean making/buying his meals). SO once he gets out of that environment, he hyperfixates on this new freedom!

we can also go to the hand pressing with this. a literal compulsion that even after the effect of the pain wears off once the hand heals, he still does it as a grounding method. nonsensical compulsion to calm anxiety? yes OCD 

can also be linked to childhood trauma but what ND can’t be amirite

emotional regulation once again - remember Angry Boy King Sammy? So angry he doesn’t know what to do and can’t control it and feels like he’s gonna explode with the rage?

intrusive (sometimes violent) thoughts are a huge marker for OCD and Sam’s obviously sometimes come from Unnatural means but they are also a part of him and kind of always have been

religious themes are also huge in OCD which Fits and makes me EMOTIONAL Sam I’m so sorry he spent his whole childhood feeling unclean and unholy and Fixated on that to the point of praying to a God his family didn’t believe in just so he could be Clean fuck

also i think it’s really interesting and cool that of the two brothers, Sam shows the most obvious signs of OCD even though he is canonically the messier brother and the brother not worried about IRL germs (i know the writers didn’t try to do this but i don’t care they didn’t play into the OCD means i must germex! trope)

AND ADHD DEAN!!! 

let’s first look at the obvious: Dean is highly skilled in combat, even though he hates physical exercise. Why? ADHD brain tied up with anxiety is hardwired into flight or fight, not sit and focus on one thing. it’s constantly picking up on threats and peripheral vision and all that shit 

he also has a spotty history with books! like i’ve said before, not shit writing, this is Dean’s ADHD. Dean as a kid read some high-brow books and he still does occasionally but he doesn’t nearly as much as an adult because it became much harder!! and because he just couldn’t devote that much attention, even as a kid, to things that he wasn’t really interested in! This is why he hates research

he’s known far and wide for his impulsiveness, his knee jerk decisions. it’s part of what makes him a good hunter and part of what makes him human disorder incarnate - It’s ADHD

Low frustration tolerance and rejection-sensitive dysphoria! Dean has a really hard time regulating his emotions and especially anger - especially especially especially when he feels like he’s being rejected or abandoned. it’s literally his worst fear 

^^^^ rejection-sensitive dysphoria also plays into his low self-esteem (god poor kid to have RSD in an environment growing up where Everyone Was Constantly Busting Each Other’s Balls and couldn’t be emotionally available to also tell you they actually love you), high self standards, and social anxiety (he’s a bullshitter, his chameleon charm is also a symptom of his social anxiety and RSD) 

also Dean has lots of sleep problems both ways and complicated relationships with motivation and inner restlessness versus a yearning for stability 

comfort items / food!! now i can’t find the research on this so forgive me because i know i’ve read it somewhere that ADHDers tend to gravitate toward familiar things or foods! (like Dean’s burgers and his car / motels that are all basically the same) it is a very ND thing in general as well

along that line, ADHDers tend to have sensory processing issues - it’s why Dean has an Outfit Recipe of the same types of clothes that he sticks to - also why he delights so much in sensory stuff like magic fingers and the Dead Guy Robe

(((jfc i thought of this point while writing out the last one and then forgot it and had to stare at the screen for a minute, now I’ve forgotten it again while writing this thank you adhd))) AH YES! auditory processing! Remember how we make fun of Dean for his lame comebacks? Remember how we make fun of him for his buffer speed in The Scene? baby that’s because it takes him five extra seconds to translate those words let alone RESPOND

not to mention people with ADHD often have much higher rates of anxiety/depression (duh) and substance abuse (yes)

lmao in researching this the article I was looking at says that lead exposure as a child can lead to ADHD and jfc you KNOW those shitty motels had Exclusively Lead Paint smh

BUT ONE OF MY FAVORITES of course has to be that Dean gets along so well with autistic Cas!! as an adhd dude with an autistic best friend, WE DIG! adhd and autism go so well together because we can get each other in ways that others just Can’t. adhd and autism have a lot of overlap/similarities in brain function and shit. 

tend to eschew social conventions and be much more straightforward/want that in others

they can both have the tendency to fidget and depending on upbringing mask that for some people - which also leads to being social chameleons

they both have comfort items / foods that NT find really strange or childish in my experience

sensory disorders!!! cas with his ONE OUTFIT and Dean with his different colored ONE OUTFIT 

Anyway i’m in love with this and i have so many thoughts but here are a few of them thank you very much for this ask i love that you came to me 

[flowesona]

Visitation of a Lover - Yandere! Ghost Taehyung x reader

Happy Halloween! i hope everyone has a great evening and i hope you will enjoy this oneshot 🖤

Life never ceased to pass by. People were born and grew old, created their own families, earned themselves a legacy. Meanwhile, all that Kim Taehyung could do was watch. For hundreds of years he wandered around his estate, because he had nowhere else to go. No one that lived in his house even cared to acknowledge his life or history - he hadn’t heard his name leave the lips of his family in decades, and the portrait he’d commissioned of himself when the house was first built remained tucked away in the attic.

At the very least, he was thankful that he never had to see anything distasteful. The current occupant of his house - a very distant family member - was a mild mannered widower who only ever ventured into half of the rooms of the house, leaving plenty of space for Taehyung to live. The ghost had even been so bold as to start leaving a physical presence - in the dusty studio where he had spent many afternoons writing his diary when he was alive, he’d taken up painting landscape views. There was the slight risk that the old man could walk in and have a heart attack upon seeing a floating paintbrush but considering that he could barely make the trek to the kitchen for a cup of tea, Taehyung was more than happy to take that risk.

“Oh really? Good golly, you have to send me a picture?” Taehyung had been enjoying a light novel in the lounge when he heard the elderly man cheering loudly in his study. Curious, he folded the corner of the page and tucked the book away, phasing into the next room to see what was so exciting.

“A baby boy! Just like I wanted!”

He peered over the shoulder of his kin, seeing his open laptop on the polished maplewood desk. What the old man was so delighted by was an email showing a picture of a small newborn baby being cradled in a woman's arms. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this was a new member of the family, but what piqued Taehyung’s interest more was the woman holding the child. Even with her forehead drenched in sweat and her body covered by a not-so-flattering hospital gown, there was something ethereal about her. For the first time in ages Taehyung felt some yearning in his heart.

He wanted… no, he needed to meet her. Maybe this angel could be the salvation he needed, the key to him escaping his mundane existence in purgatory.

It just so happened that through death that they would be brought together.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

The elderly resident passed away a week after his great-grandson was born. Unfortunate timing, as he never even got to see the infant. Taehyung, however, was more fortunate, as the wake was held at his manor as per family tradition.

It was at this somber occasion he was able to see the woman who had piqued his interest up close. Maternity had had its toll on her body with her breasts sagging slightly and her figure still slightly bloated but the black funeral dress still looked quite beautiful, Taehyung noted. Interesting, how she lacked the figure most men would desire yet her husband still looked at her as if she was Helen of Troy reincarnate.

He found himself tailing her for the most of the occasion, still keeping a safe distance out of fear one of his fingers could brush against hers and scare her away for good. It was through this stalking he learnt of the young woman’s name - (Y/N).

She was quiet and respectful - as to be expected at a wake - but a bright smile lit up her face when she showed pictures of her newborn child to anyone who asked. It was way more intriguing watching her interact with everyone at the wake than to read one of the romantic books he’d poured over so many times.

“We’ve been reading through the will. And it seems Grandpa Kim left you his estate, rather than the money.” (Y/N)’s father-in-law was speaking to the couple in a hushed voice, drawing the ghost’s attention instantly.

“Really?”

“Well, it was updated quite recently with the birth of your son. I guess he thought by giving it to you, it would make sure the property stays in the family.”

“How do you feel about moving here, darling?” (Y/N)’s partner Seokjin - Taehyung had also learned his name through eavesdropping - asked, cradling her hand within his own.

“I would love to. But what about the dust? Won’t that be bad for the baby?” On god, her voice was as sweet as a nightingale song. How Taehyung longed to hear it for hours on end.

“I’ll clean it for you, silly. But do you think we could live here for the rest of our lives?”

The nod of (Y/N)’s head sealed their fate.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

Initially the change in ownership had been a nightmare. Between the seemingly none-stop arrival of moving trucks, the buzz of people helping to put things away and the loud whining of the month-old baby, it was hard to relax. Taehyung felt almost as on edge as the new owners of the house, Yet after many arguments and sleepless nights the couple were settled in.

They seemed to have more appreciation for the house than it’s former occupant, with many of the dusty spaces becoming clean and decorated again. Even Taehyung’s writing room - he’d watched with apprehension at first when they entered the room, but a warm feeling bubbled in his non-existent stomach when he saw (Y/N) taking his paintings and hanging them on the wall. Did she appreciate art just as much as him?

Even if the couple had settled properly, the one person who was still restless was their infant. The baby boy would often wake up in the middle of the night and wail loudly, leading one of the parents to climb out of bed and hush him back to sleep. This routine nearly drove Taehyung up the wall, as his peaceful naps were often disturbed by the cry of a hungry infant. It had been a while since there had been an infant living at the manor and Taehyung still had yet to adjust to the noise level.

“There’s milk in the fridge if he wakes up, and nappies are in the second drawer down in the nursery. Feel free to help yourself to anything in there, except the Sauvignon of course. We’ll be back at about 11PM, thank you so much for helping us!”

Taehyung was too distracted by the sight of (Y/N) dressed up so elegantly in a sleek black dress to process what she was saying to the spotty-faced teenager standing before her as Seokjin slipped on his shoes.

“No worries Mrs Kim.” The teen responded. With one last fret about the child, the couple left to get in the taxi, and the house felt like it had lost all of its life.

Taehyung wished he could trail after (Y/N) as he usually did, but being confined to the manor meant he had to seek out the next best thing.

The nursery had been fully made over by (Y/N) and Seokjin within a week or so of moving in. Gone was the Georgian wallpaper, replaced by a coat of blue paint and decorated with twinkling moons and stars. Taehyung approached the coat, his fingers brushing the plush mobile over the cot and watching it spin.

He heard the gurgle of the baby below him, glancing down to see the blinking brown eyes gazing back up at him. Perhaps not directly at him, but it was enough to make Taehyung double back in shock. He reached down into the cot and placed one of his cold hands on the baby’s face. Its response was a delighted giggle, as if his touch was ticklish. Taehyung chuckled, poking at the child’s ribs to see him scrunch up his tiny legs. Suddenly, gazing into the little boy’s eyes Taehyung knew what he’d been missing in both his alive and undead life. A real family, someone he could speak to and someone he could love.

He wished he could pick up this child and coo over its chubby cheeks with his wife. He wanted to write poems about his love for life, he wanted to fall asleep holding someone at night.

But not just anyone would do. He knew, he just knew, it had to be (Y/N). She would be his, and he would be hers.

However, whilst Taehyung was pondering this, the child was growing uncomfortable and it startled the ghost back into reality with a loud cry for attention. He glanced down at the child, panicking at the sight of tears running down its cheeks. Luckily, it seemed that the young boy was only hungry, as the room still smelt like fresh linen.

‘It’s okay. The babysitter will sort him out.’ He told himself.

However, after several painful minutes of waiting there was no sight of the teenager leading Taehyung to search the house for him. He found the babysitter lying on the couch fast asleep, a movie playing on the TV and an abandoned bottle of beer on the coffee table.

‘Pathetic’. Taehyung scoffed to himself. ‘I’ll do it myself.’

He found the bottle filled with breast milk that (Y/N) had left in the fridge, the teat already attached. With one last glance at the passed out teenager, he picked up the bottle and made his way back to the nursery.

It must surely be a jarring sight to see a floating bottle of milk, and furthermore to be picked up and fed by an invisible person. However, the baby didn’t seem too disturbed, happily drinking the milk and burping without a care in the world.

After the infant was fed he started to nod off the sleep again, and Taehyung gently laid him down in the cot. He gently traced over the warm cheek of the child before leaving, the most happy he’d been in his life.

He spent the rest of the evening waiting on the sofa for (Y/N) to return. Whilst the TV was showing some action movie, Taehyung couldn’t find it in himself to become interested in it. Not when he had much more pressing issues on his mind. His mind was flurried with the realisation of how he felt. How could he love someone when he’s dead? How could he win the heart of (Y/N) when she couldn’t see him?

Luckily he wasn’t left to stew in his thoughts for too long - as the clock crept around to ten o’clock the front door opened and shut as (Y/N) and Seokjin returned home. Her face was creased with worry as she crept up to the nursery to check on her darling child, whilst Seokjin stayed to pay their now conscious babysitter who had hidden all traces of delinquency and was happily accepting his payment for doing nothing.

Taehyung, as always, chose to join (Y/N) in the nursery. He stood by the doorway, watching as (Y/N) bent down to press a kiss to her beautiful sleeping child. Then, unable to resist he approached her and rested his arms on her waist. He felt her shiver slightly at the cold touch of his hands and for a second the melancholy of his situation hit him like a truck. But Taehyung couldn’t let it haunt him, not when the warmth of her skin under his hands made him more at peace than he had been for years.

She stumbled slightly as she left the nursery, the evening’s drink hit her harder than it usually would, but Taehyung’s hands steadied her. Whilst he secretly savoured the feeling of her body in his hold, he was more concerned about how unstable she was - most likely due to having not drank alcohol in over a year.

Seokjin still hadn’t returned to his wife’s side, and for that Taehyung was both grateful and condemning of the man - he despised how the man could be married to such an ethereal woman and not spend every waking moment by her side, but he was grateful to be able to fill that role. He gently guided her towards her bed, scared that she could fall, and once she had flopped onto the bed lay down next to her, admiring every one of her features as she fell asleep still in her fancy clothes and makeup.

Taehyung had waited hundreds of years to find his purpose in life, and now that he’d found her he knew he would do anything to make her happy.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

(Y/N) had become increasingly stressed since she returned to doing work, Taehyung noticed. Sure, it was only part-time and luckily they were happy for her to work from home meaning she didn’t need to get a new job. However, the incessant demand for attention from the young infant meant she rarely had a moment to rest her feet.

Taehyung wasn’t going to stand for it. Occasionally on the nights that his loneliness got to him, he would press his hand to her forehead only to find it hot and drenched with sweat. She was working herself to death, no doubt about it. And whilst Taehyung secretly longed for her to join the land of the dead with him, it wasn’t her time.

Thus, to take some of the stress off her back, he started to help out around the house. At first, it was minor things that (Y/N) wouldn’t think twice about. Putting dirty laundry in the basket, washing the dirty breakfast bowls, retrieving the toys that precious little Si-woo had thrown across the room, turning off the stove when she accidentally left it on. Seeing the positive effect these had on (Y/N), he started to get bolder in his actions - making her lunches (and letting her assume that it was Seokjin making them in the morning), taking out the garbage, shushing Si-woo when he started crying. All things Seokjin couldn’t do, that Taehyung would do everyday for her if she could only love him.

Spending time with her son was a new favourite hobby of Taehyung. He could stare at those twinkling eyes that inherited from (Y/N)’s for hours. He found that as the son grew he became more playful, and Taehyung was more than happy to keep the little tyke entertained. It was a risky game - if (Y/N) walked in and saw her son’s toys moving by themselves she would no doubt call an exorcist but with the delighted giggles that Si-woo made it was more than worth it.

However, with the increasing time he spent with (Y/N) Taehyung had a first hand seat to watching her relationship with Seokjin deteriorate. At first, it was just the lack of intimacy - Seokjin would often get home late, and by that time both (Y/N) and the baby were asleep leaving him to heat up whatever (Y/N) had made for dinner. When Seokjin woke up in the morning, (Y/N) had already been awake for hours caring for Si-woo. Seokjin missed everything, from Si-woo’s first teetering steps to the adorable way that he had said his first word: ‘dada’.

Then there was the argument.

“Have you seen my copy of ‘Eileen’?” In fact, Taehyung had borrowed it. Not only did he find the modern fiction way more interesting than his old romantic novels, he found it comforting to thumb the pages where (Y/N), much like he did, would fold the corners to save her progress.

“No. Where was the last place you left it?” Seokjin replied, not seeming nearly as interested in the issue as (Y/N) wanted him to be.

“I swear I left it on the dresser. Can you help me look for it?” She sighed in reply. Seokjin didn’t move.

“Is it such a big deal?”

Taehyung decided to leave his cozy chair in the corner to join (Y/N)’s side. He wasn’t sure, but he hoped she could feel his presence, to know that he was there for her even when her husband wasn’t.

“I just wanted to read it today. I was at a really good point.” His lover’s voice had a defeated tone to it, as if the book was her last hope in life.

“I’ll get you another copy. Come back to bed, (Y/N).” Seokjin purred, but (Y/N) shook her head.

“Why are you so selfish?” She suddenly snapped. “I feel like I do everything around here. I do all of the housework, I look after Si-woo all day long and I still find time to do my job! When was the last time you let your precious hands touch something domestic?”

“You think that I want to be away from home so much? I wish I could spend more time with my family but in case you forgot being in charge of a firm is actually quite demanding!” Seokjin stood up, his tone matching her aggression in a second.

(Y/N) paused, her eyes scrunching up as if she was going to cry.

“What happened? What happened to us that has made us this way? Why… why don’t I feel like you love me anymore?”

The sadistic side of Taehyung wished he could frame the scene and hang it up on the wall forever. The look of horror on Seokjin's face was simply priceless.

“You don’t mean that.” He said, trying to be firm only to have his voice shake with every word. “(Y/N), you can’t doubt my love for one second. Please.”

His wife just breathed out, rubbing at her eyes.

“I need a break.” She finally said. “I need to leave for a few days. Please.”

Seokjin looked hurt, but he nodded nonetheless.

“Take as much time as you need. I’ll look after Si-woo. You just need to look after yourself.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

Taehyung was fuming. Half an hour after the Kims had argued (Y/N) had packed a small bag and left to stay with “some family”, allowing her husband to give her a small peck on the cheek before she left.

It was torturous for Taehyung, thinking of how much time he would have to spend away from his (Y/N). Although he was glad that she was going to have a break, the entire situation could have been entirely avoided if she had never married Kim Seokjin. If only she could have married Taehyung instead, he would’ve made sure she would never had to lift a finger and her every wish would be his command. Instead he could only have an invisible presence in her life, whilst she was stuck with a deadbeat husband who seemingly left all of the parenting to her.

Taehyung felt sick to his stomach seeing as he watched Seokjin act on his words, taking the next few days off work to look after his son. It just wasn’t fair, how he could talk to the toddler and get a babbled response or how he could hold out his arms and Si-woo would stumble towards him. Seokjin didn’t deserve fatherhood, Taehyung concluded. (Y/N) deserved a loving husband and father to her child and no matter how many hours Taehyung spent over the three days watching the broken family whilst (Y/N) was gone, nothing could convince him that Seokjin was the right match.

Seokjin had had a call from (Y/N), telling him that she was going to return home in a few hours. The giddy smile on Seokjin’s face as he told Si-woo that Mommy would be home today and they were going to help make her a special meal was just disgusting to Taehyung. No way did this pathetic excuse for a husband deserve to have (Y/N) back.

Taehyung sat at the table plotting what he should do as he watched Seokjin cook a meal to welcome (Y/N) back, as his adorable son sat on the counter and watched. He didn’t want to do anything in front of Si-woo, that would be too cruel. But he had to stop Seokjin in some way, and all his plans ended in the same result - killing him.

He could pour bleach down his throat. Or he could spill some oil onto him and set him alight. Or he could strange him with one of the curtain cords. All valid solutions to the problem.

“Daddy just has to go pee. Are you happy sitting in your playpen for a few minutes, hmm?” Taehyung’s murderous lines of thought were broken by the sound of Seokjin’s cheerful voice cooing to his son.

Finally, an opportunity. He could end Seokjin’s life in the bathroom, and Si-woo would be none the wiser as to where ‘Daddy’ was.

He waited until the scoundrel had placed his son in the playpen and left the kitchen before approaching the magnetic knife rail and plucking a decently sized blade from it. Taehyung then trailed a few metres behind Seokjin as he made a beeline for the bathroom - he couldn’t get too close, no doubt Seokjin would be immediately alarmed and his plan for subtly would be ruined.

When he finally reached the bathroom he cursed when it was closed (although luckily enough not locked) - whilst he could easily float through the door, his knife would not be able to and thus to enact the plan he swung open the door.

Seokjin turned around, slightly concerned at how the door was open when he was so sure that he’d closed it. Disregarding it as a draft he zipped up his trousers and was just checking his hair in the mirror when suddenly there was a force gripping his throat. His eyes darted side to side trying to find some answer but all he found was air. He wasn’t left in the dark for long, however - Taehyung would love to make the scumbag suffer but he didn’t want to risk (Y/N) walking in on the unfinished scene.

Thus, in one swift move he slit Seokjin’s throat and pushed him towards the bathtub, his victim’s body hitting the rim of the tub with a satisfying ‘thunk’. (Y/N)’s pathetic excuse for a husband’s last moments were agonising, his eyes wide with shock and confusion as he choked on his own blood. But before Taehyung had fully gotten to enjoy the pain of his rival’s death, life had drained from Seokjin’s eyes and his body slumped over. Taehyung drifted over to place the bloody blade in the corpse’s right hand, and as a final touch he wiped up the drops of blood that had fallen onto the ground just a little too far away to be believable.

Content with what he’d done, Taehyung left to visit Si-woo. The toddler seemed happy enough playing with his toy alpaca to even notice his biological father’s disappearance. Rather, he was delighted when he felt an invisible presence pinching at his cheek, letting out a hearty giggle. Taehyung managed to keep him occupied for the next hour, until (Y/N) returned.

Taehyung's non-existent heart thumped at a thousand beats a second when he heard a car drawing up on the gravel drive, and the car door slamming home announced that she was finally back.

“I’m home!” She called out, the only response she got being some babbled nonsense from Si-woo. She walked into the living room to see her son, smiling at first but the smile dropping off her face when she couldn’t see anyone else.

“Hey precious!” She cooed, scooping the toddler into her arms. “Where’s daddy?”

She didn’t hear the normal witty response from Seokjin nearby, leading her to click her tongue in annoyance.

“Did daddy really leave you all alone? That’s a bit strange, isn’t it?”

“Not at all.” Taehyung quirked back, scowling at how she seemed to have completely forgotten how neglectful of a father Seokjin really was compared to himself.

Evidently having not heard Taehyung’s comment, (Y/N) started to search for Seokjin, finding his abandoned cooking (although thankfully the bastard had turned off the stove). Taehyung just trailed behind her as usual, holding his breath as if she would be able to hear him.

After calling out for her ‘husband’ a few more times, (Y/N) gave up.

“I guess he got called into work. So much for spending time with his family.”

She made her way up to the nursery, placing Si-woo back down on the floor.

“Mommy just had a long journey, so she’s going to go to the toilet and then she’ll get you some dinner, okay?” (Y/N) said softly to the child, as if she expected a response. Si-woo just looked up at her innocently, completely oblivious to all that was going on except his own hunger.

Taehyung realised, as (Y/N) was walking away, that she was headed in the direction of the bathroom Seokjin had used and she was about to find his body. Upon that thought he followed her, hoping to support her when she found the grisly scene.

However, the shrill scream he heard when he was mere metres away from the room told him he was too late.

(Y/N) fell to her knees, tears rolling down her cheeks as she surveyed the situation. She was frozen still, unable to stop screaming until her voice was hoarse. Taehyung took the initiative to kneel beside her and rub his hand on her back. (Y/N) didn’t even seem to notice, not flinching from the cold as she usually did. All she could do was bury her face in her hands and weep at the sight before her eyes. And as much as it hurt Taehyung to see his (Y/N) in pain, his heart was telling him he’d done the right thing.

Now, (Y/N) needed him. She couldn’t survive as a single mother, not when she was struggling already when Seokjin was alive. But Taehyung believed with all his heart that he was more than fit to take on Seokjin’s role, as a father, as a husband, as the only one in the world who could truly love her.