#the thing is that I rarely get rid of clothes or buy new clothes

[partybarty]

I think it is a boss move of me to show up to netball training in a rugby training shirt, basketball shorts, and the hat from my old cricket team.

[1800-lemonadeg1rl]

Shopping date

Dark! Wanda Maximoff x reader

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary- how could you be so silly as to lose your cards?

Warnings- manipulation, dark! Wanda, obsessive Wanda, unhealthy obsession, potential Stockholm syndrome?, not proofread!!, coercion, gaslighted, darkthemes, I'd say some parts contain a little fluff

Wordcount - 1.8k

A/n-this is my first side part for craving you!!! This has little link to main series so can be read separately if you want but I would recommend reading all of it!! Inspired by a comment by @mrsmothermaximoff

You'd been meaning to pay Wanda back for something, anything really. Despite how casual she acted about you just living with her rent free and essentially doing nothing of any great contribution all day you still felt this nagging shameful feeling that tugged at your chest everyday, everytime she paid for you at a restaurant, bought you something she thought looked cute or let you borrow her clothes when yours seemed to go missing.

You felt awful.

Watching her pay for you and provide for you. Your whole life you'd never relied on anyone for anything. Never felt like you'd owed anyone anything. Rarely ever been in any kind of debt but now you owed Wanda everything. But she was so unwilling to ever let you pay her back, always insisting things were no trouble for her, of course they weren't have you seen that woman's paycheck? Telling you to save your money for better things. Making sure you never had to lift a finger for anything you desired.

This was different though. When you first moved in you'd practically begged Wanda to let you atleast pay for groceries and how she couldn't resist how you looked when you begged. So reluctantly, and with a backup plan, she agreed to let you do the weekly grocery shop and pay with your own money. Which for some stupid reason you'd been very responsible with and had a large amount in savings which could easily buy the two of you groceries for a few years.

Wanda did not want to wait a few years for you to come to the end of the money you had saved before gaining a little more power over you. She wanted it now. And Wanda gets what Wanda wants even when she has to play dirty, which she did often.

A rough plan she had concocted the day you'd practically forced her to let you pay for things was to get rid of your debit card in some way. It couldn't be too obvious but she still had to be your Knight in shining armour and save the day for you when you couldn't pay. She couldn't bare the thought of you embarrassedly leaving the shops after not having a way to pay, no she didn't want that for you. She wanted to swoop in and offer to pay.

Around two months maybe three had passed since you started buying groceries. You'd made a set schedule of it by now, you went Friday mornings around 10:30am when the shops were quiet so you could buy your groceries in peace without worrying about running over someone's child with your trolley. Occasionally Wanda came with you but not all that often. You assumed as ceo of her own company she'd have better things to do than go round the supermarket and also partly that she wasn't interested by it, that she didn't actually ever care what you bought as long as you liked it.

Wanda awoke early this particular Friday about 5:00am sharp and was careful as she got off the bed not to wake you, though she doubted she would, you were the heaviest sleeper she'd ever met. It was lucky she was looking out for you then, without her God knows what could happen to you while you were asleep. Before leaving the room she took a quick picture of your sleeping body, head firmly in the pillow and legs wrapped around the duvet half in and half out of it. How cute. She thought as she left gazing at the picture.

Once downstairs she located your handbag, a stylish one she'd gifted you when you worked in the office. Wanda took note of how tatty it was now. Scuffed and marked up. Definitely time to get you a new bag, she can't have her darling going out looking rough. Your bag was always fairly empty so she had no trouble finding your purse in it. Upon opening the purse Wanda took out any large bills and both your debit and credit card from within before closing up your purse and placing your bag back where it was originally sat.

Now the money was easy. Crisp paper bills burnt quickly in her ornate fireplace and brought warmth to the somewhat cold living room, you'd appreciate this warmth when you eventually woke up. Wanda knew this after all she knew everything about you.

The cards were a little tricker that the notes but nothing she couldn't handle as she quickly had another idea. Cutting up your card into tiny minced up indistinguishable pieces and then tossing them in a bin outside that you'd never look in. Wanda was left feeling... proud of her work. She felt like this was well a complished and you'd never be any the wiser. Not that you'd ever dream of accusing Wanda anyway, she was your saviour after all. Your were too clueless to ever once look past her charismatic facade. Too stupid, naive, gullible, dumb.

You woke up to an empty and cold bed a few hours later. Waking up alone always made you feel so awful but you could never guess why. It's not like you and Wanda were dating.. we're you? You brushed the thoughts away, she's just being kind she'd never think of someone like you like that, you tell yourself as you stretch and make the bed.

Later in the morning, you and Wanda were both being chauffeured to the supermarket. Whenever Wanda wasn't around to drive you or couldn't be bothered to drive she'd have you driven around by a private chauffeur who you knew little about. When you asked Wanda she only gave you vague answers saying the chauffeur called herself N and that was all you needed to know apparently.When you drove with N the car was always ominously quiet Wanda occasionally speaking in what felt like code to her and occasionally asking simple questions about how you felt.

Thankfully the supermarket was only a couple of miles away so the drive was over quicker than most.

When Wanda went shopping with you it was quite a different experience to shopping alone. She'd walk ahead of you almost protectively into the supermarket and then would make sure the entire trip round she was by your side at all times, leaving no room for you to sidle off or get lost. Despite what could be described as a dominant presence she never stopped you putting whatever you wanted in the trolley. If you believe the two of you needed that much dry spaghetti or fizzy sodas who was she to argue. I mean it was your money so she reasoned to have little to no input even if she despised some things you added to the trolley. She'd only really comment if you were going to hit something with your trolley, you were lucky you had someone to look out for your clumsiness, or if she also liked something you were putting in the trolley. Other than that she engaged in simple talk with you, she found your small world of excitements and thoughts cute. After all she had curated that small world.

Today was no different. If something was off, which it was. You'd be none the wiser as Wanda kept exactly to her act as she always did. Talking to you about favourite crisp flavours, laughing at your rant about creepy food mascots and helping you guide the trolley. Going round the shops together you felt some sense of domestic bliss even of you kept telling yourself you weren't dating Wanda it definitely felt that way and looked that way. The way her hand would occasionally glide across your back. Her lingering gazes. To anyone not so oblivious they would have thought you two had been dating for months.

Getting to the checkouts you placed your items in your own specific order on the conveyer belt. Wanda deciding to help out with the heavier things, she didn't want you to strain yourself for no reason. All was normal as it would be.

"Cash or card?" You were awoken from your daze of frantically bagging when the cashier spoke suddenly. Opening your purse it felt a little lighter than it should do usually.

"Cash." You responded while looking down into your purse. There was no cash. But you were so sure you'd taken cash out last week at the bank. Still the empty purse stared back.

"You alright darling?" Wanda's voice broke the panic building in you as you looked up at her calm smile while feeling instantly reassured. You nodded in response, a small but firm smile planted on your face as you spoke again.

"Uh.. can I pay card actually." The cashier smiled and nodded before pulling out a card machine. You sifted throught many a gift and reward card sitting in your purse many times awkwardly as a queue began to form before realising your cards weren't there. Your cards were gone. Gone. And you were none the wiser to where.

Your breathing began to pick up as you made eye contact with impatient customers behind as your braced yourself to have to put everything back. "I-..uh- I."

Wanda had been watching your small meltdown confidently until she heard your voice break. The moment she knew it was her time to save you, again.

"Don't worry I've got it." Before you could object she'd swiped her card across the scanner and begun picking up the bags for you and leading your slightly shaking figure away from the tills.

"Come on sweetie. What was going on back there?" She murmured in a tone so sweet you could've got diabetes. Before she could continue speaking you wrapped yourself around her arm. As if it was ab instinct more than a choice. "Oh.. it's okay darling we all make mistakes. I'm sure you'll find your money. You probably just misplaced it. Your such a klutz sometimes detka." You just dumbly nodded as she pulled you into the back of the car staying completely wrapped around her the whole way home, still shaken from the store.

Your cards and cash never did show up and at somepoint you gave up looking. It was clear for whatever reason they were gone and you weren't going to find them. Wanda gave you her card to keep buying the groceries on.. for now, I mean we can't have some klutz who loses her own money handling the ceos cards and shopping.. it'd be better if you stayed home. But Wanda wouldn't push it on you all at once, she knew you needed time yo adjust to using her money all the time. To being reliant on someone. To being reliant on her.

Taglist: @stayevildarling @reginassweetheart @alexawynters @your-my-mission @witchmaximoff @imjustvibingsworld @mrsmothermaximoff

[ghost-bxrd]

Ghost, you are a fountain of incredible aus. I am impressed (and a little jealous). Do you have anything more on eldritch Jason or the Calvin Rose road trip au?

Awe thank you! I’m happy you’re enjoying all the crack content on here hehehe 💚💚

and boi do I have more ✨

Edlritch Jason 👁️

Jason has trouble keeping his true form in check when he’s excited! The happier/upset he gets, the more his outline and shape start to ooze

He has several maws with teeth that range from blunt to sharp needle points. In one of those maws hides a black hole

Jason is scared of space, funnily enough. Too empty and vast for him as he gets lonely pretty easily. He likes the crowded spaces teeming with life.

Jason loves learning new human things

Jason has no reaction to fear or joker toxin. Or any kind of substance that would impair a regular human’s health. Bruce finds out about that after he nearly loses his mind with worry following a widespread toxin attack in which Jason “forgets” his rebreather.

Pictures of Jason always end up looking a little displaced. There’s always some kind of glitch/blur/shadow in it that no amount of tech improvement can get rid of

Even though he’s eldritch at core, Jason’s human body can still be hurt, and he experiences pain just like any other human would

Calvin Rose road trip 🌹

Calvin finds Jason soaking wet and still in his funeral clothes and injuries sitting by the curb and is disturbed enough by the kid’s appearance to usher him back to his hideout.

For the longest time Calvin thinks Jason is called Bruce because that’s the only thing he will say

Taking Jason with him is a spur of the moment decision. Jason reminds him too much of himself, beaten and broken and locked away in a dog cage to die, and he looks so… lost. Calvin can’t bear to drive away from that without knowing what happens to the kid

As much as Calvin grumbles about it sometimes he’s exceptionally good and patient with Jason. He talks a lot and points out inane things even though he rarely (if ever) gets a reaction. (Calvin was lonely, not that he’s gonna admit that)

For some time Calvin thinks Jason used to be trained as a Talon when a few people try to mug them and Jason goes all Robin-training on them. He’s sure their little experiments went to far and the Court meant to dispose of him now that he’s “broken”

The first words Jason speaks that isn’t any iteration of Bruce’s name is “burger” (because he wants a burger). Calvin buys him ten because that’s literally the first time Jay has ever expressed an opinion on food.

Jason’s second word is “Dick”, and Calvin nearly chokes to death on his beer.

From there on it’s a steady improvement of Jay’s mental state, but that also means he starts getting night terrors as he remembers his death and the Joker. Once Calvin pieces together the broad picture he’s down to devising plans to dispose of the clown. He’s not making compromises where people who hurt children are concerned. Especially not if they’re family

Jason never tells Calvin about Batman or being Robin, he’s… kind of happy to be away from all of it. Especially after seeing Brucie Wayne and his new protege and Dick Grayson, a happy and smiling family, on the news together. And sightings of Robin making the front page of most magazines

Calvin knows Jason is hiding something from him, but hey, so is Calvin. All he knows is that his kid brother road trip buddy really doesn’t seem to like Gotham’s vigilantes. Something he can totally respect. And thankfully, Calvin is skilled enough to keep him safe even if the glorified furry and his acolytes were to come after Jay for whatever reason.

Jason’s favorite song to listen to while driving is “I know the end” by Phoebe Bridgers. Calvin starts out hating the song but is to endeared by how happy Jason gets (even in his early catatonic state) that he doesn’t say anything. It ends up being both their favorite song

[moodymisty]

lowkey been thinking about the concept of Aqulian Shields with a charge that is deeply insecure about the protections given to them: a lowly imperial citizen. how are *they* meant to be important enough to warrant it? they have complete faith in the emperor, of course, but cannot fathom their own importance, do not understand that this is a galaxy where *they* are important.

(i.e. i need a very large man to praise me or i’ll die)

Ok i know requests are closed but like, this has been eating at my brain for days sorry for making you wait. Forgive this being very rough.

Relationships: Valerius Caledon(Aqulian shield oc)/Gn!Reader

Warnings: Reader is a lowly sort of seamstress/seamster? for a lord and doesn't understand their value, Low self esteem, Awkward pep talk from a custode

The fabric bolts on the table are scattered about uselessly, some unrolled from their bolts as you prepare to cut.

Getting them had been, an adventure.

You haven't gone that deep into public since Valerius started 'protecting' you. To be nothing one day and then to suddenly have a man covered in gold, one of the Emperor's finest watching your every move, it's overwhelming.

The man you'd gone to in order to buy the fabric you needed had simply let you have them for free, pushing them towards you. You may not have seen his face, but you knew that Valerius behind you had been watching the man's hands intently, when he got close. You're sure he only gave you it all without payment to get you and you Aqulian Shield far away from there.

You wonder how your lord will react when he get news of this upon his return. He'll surely be furious, that one of his random workers was bestowed one of the Emperor's greatest protectors and not himself.

You hold your cold metal scissors in your hands, and nearly get lost in the pattern of the fabric.

"Something is bothering you."

Valerius' voice is stoic and deep, no matter where you are in the room it sounds like he's nearly in your ear. You sigh.

"I just, I don't get it." You hear the thumping sound of him rounding you, until he stands at your front. He blocks a good portion of the window, and looks down on you with the same heavy, thinking expression you're already used to from him.

"Why me? I just, I don't get why you consider me worth protecting," You continue. "I only sew clothes for my lord and his lady, what is there about me that will help the Imperium?"

Valerius comes closer, leaning his spear against the wall for a moment; It is still within reach, just in case. Given you're sitting and his massive height he's forced to kneel in order to come close to eye level with you, but even then you have to look up slightly.

"When that day comes we will find out. Perhaps it might be months or years, but you will accomplish something of great importance. No matter your station." He hesitates for a moment before putting his hand on your knee, the massive gauntlet covering much of your leg.

"I will protect you with all I have until you reach that day, and then my duty is done." You smile and softly laugh.

"I'll miss you when you leave. I've been enjoying your company."

Valerius surprises you, as for the first time since he charged into your life, he gives a small smile.

"None of my charges have ever said that before."

That surprises you; He's amicable company, all things considered. Such as being unable to be rid of him. He's even offered his advice at times, though he's largely quiet. You've learned in those rare moments that his favorite color is clearly red.

"Well, I'm glad to be the first."

Valerius continues to smile, before removing his hand from your leg and rising back to his feet. You let out a breath of air and reach for your fabrics, deciding to get back to work while you feel his presence not far away.

[thehollowwriter]

Meet Silas Clearcove, Atlantica's Boogeyman (but not really)!

(Left by @the-trinket-witch and right by me! I tried I'm so had at drawing 😭)

Silas is a butcher that sells parts of various sea creatures to whoever is willing to buy from him and even supplies Mrs Ashengrotto and eventually Azul with their wares for their restaurants. He's in his late sixties and lives in a kelp forest on the very edge of Atlantica's borders, where the light doesn't reach. He's treated with a lot of fear and suspicion, with dark rumours constantly spreading, and many city residents prefer to keep away from him.

Some Basic Info:

☆Homeland: The Coral Sea, though he was originally from the Abyss, a desolate wasteland below the Coral Sea

☆Species: Cookie cutter shark (abyssal)

☆Height/Length: 153cm/5'0

☆Birthday: 12th June

☆Dominant hand: He's ambidextrous

☆Hobbies: Gardening, reading, doing puzzles

☆Likes: Learning new things, music, cooking

☆Dislikes: Small, tight spaces, large crowds and bright lights, close-minded people

☆Favourite food: Clam chowder

☆Least favourite food: Triggerfish

Personality:

Silas is a very quiet man who doesn't talk very much at all. He doesn't feel the need to fill the air and only speaks when he thinks he has to. He's got a legendary resting bitch face and isn't all that expressive (he's delighted he promises, that's just his face/j). He is very closed off to most and prefers to keep to himself or those close to him, in fact he rarely leaves his property at all.

Silas is pretty similar to Finn. He's very hands-on and likes to get things done quickly and efficiently. He's a hard worker. However, he's very calm and calculating and has a lot of patience. He's good at strategy and knows how to adapt to new situations quickly, which is very helpful to his staff, many of whom are disabled (like him) in some manner.

Silas in general is very straight-laced and logical, but follows his own rules. He almost never obeys "social rules" and prefers to do his own thing, and doesn't care if it makes others uncomfortable or upset at him. He speaks his mind, if he speaks at all, and he doesn't sugar-coat anything and gets irritated when others try to do just dance around topics or imply things at him.

Silas, though he gives off a very threatening aura, does care deeply for those he's close to and is determined to care for and protect them the best he can. This especially extends to Finn, who he's trying his hardest to give a happy life. He has a soft spot for children and teens and generally acts more positively towards them than he does adults (in his own Silas way)

Appearance:

Silas has light amethyst eyes, dark purple hair and dark purple skin, except on his palms and parts of his tail and finds, where it is light purple. He has a long, fluffy beard that's also dark purple. He has various swirling black markings along his body and on his face, and long black claws.

His fins are torn and full of holes, and so is his tailfin. His face and body are heavily scarred and damaged. He's very thin, but has stretchmarks on his stomach. His teeth, like Finn's, are like that of an anglerfish, and are small and many.

Silas also has a band of black scales around his neck, and from just below that all the way to his navel are photophores that glow in the dark, which helps him camouflage and can even make him look like a school of fish from below.

Obviously, as a mer, he doesn't wear clothes, but he does wear both his and his husband's courting gifts to each other when he isn't working. Necklaces of orca teeth and shell, each has a volute and skeletal murex shell respectively. Sometimes, he wears his wedding jewellery as well, but it's more for important occasions.

Important Things To Know:

☆Unique Magic: Silas' UM has no name, but it is parasitic in nature. He can drain the magic from anyone he directly touches to make his own magic stronger and even get rid of blot. There is no way for him to transfer this magic or give it back. If he drains some of your magic, you can replenish it after a while, but not if he's drained it all. If you don't have magic or have run out, he can push further and suck out your "life force" too. He almost never uses his UM, apart from for getting rid of blot.

☆Silas does know the magic taught to the main cast and is in fact an extremely powerful mage, but his speciality is Abyssal magic. He has taught Finn a little bit of what he knows, but won't teach anymore until Finn is older, as Abyssal magic is very dangerous, difficult to master, and gathers a lot of blot quickly

☆Silas is autistic

☆Silas is disabled. When he was 14, he was shot by a harpoon gun, and the harpoon lodged so deep in his tail that it caused nerve damage that went untreated for decades. He's constantly in some form of pain because of it, and if he does taxing manoeuvres in the water or swims super fast or for long distances, the pain becomes unbearable. He's had to adapt how he hunts and travels to accommodate for this

☆As previously mentioned, Silas is a butcher. He hunts down (or just grabs) various sea creatures and butchers them to sell. He's spent his whole life hunting, so this is familiar to him.

☆A little part of his job no one knows about is a deal he made with the Leech twins' parents. In exchange for their protection (physically, money-wise if needed, etc) he *ahem* disposes of the remains of their enemies for them. He wasn't in a very good mental or emotional state when he made this deal but oh well, too late to go back now.

☆Silas is greatly feared and disliked by the majority of Atlantica's citizens, regarded as a dangerous cannibal due to being from the Abyss. This is worsened by his frightening appearance and silent but intense disposition. He's treated more like a cryptid than a person, and the rumours about him luring people to his home to kill and eat them, or that he was the one who murdered his husband (this is not true ofc) are often spread and only adds fuel to the fire. This unfortunately affects both his business and Finn, who struggled to find any friends as, due to the fear and disdain felt for Silas, parents would keep children away from both of them or children would avoid Finn overall.

☆Silas has a giant pet coral named Gillian that he feeds remains to

Silas' Family:

Living family? Finn Clearcove, his son, and Timo Byun, who technically isn't his son but he views as one. He later adopts @distant-velleity 's Chrysos. He does have in-laws and family on his husband's side, but he dislikes all of then and avoids them.

As for the rest of his family... his parents, grandparents, siblings, etc have all died in various terrible ways over the course of his life, and his husband, Morrigan, was murdered before Finn was born.

Backstory:

Silas was born in the Abyss, where he spent all of his early life in poverty and having to kill and eat other merfolk to survive. He had no education at all until his 20s, when he was given the chance to get out and start earning money.

He lived in Midway, a town that rests on border between the Abyss and the Coral Sea, for many years with his grandfather, his only surviving family member. There he met Morrigan and fell in with him, and after his grandfather passed away, they got married and moved to Atlantica.

Silas started his butcher business there, and they lived in relative peace for a while until Morrigan's death. Then, Silas was left to raise Finn mostly on his own without much help. He did recover and start going to therapy, but it took a very long time. Now, he just tries to exist in peace keep Finn safe and happy.

A more in depth dive into his backstory is covered in my ongoing fic, Lamentations :)

Some Fun Facts/Extra Info:

☆Azul is scared of him

☆Silas accepts teens to work for him part time

☆Silas likes the idea of going on land and exploring one day

(My full attempt at his design! I traced over the body and tail and gave up on the hands but added all the details myself!)

...........................................

A/N: Redo for the Papa of all time too!!!

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @inotonline

@1dont-really-know @kazumify @minteasketches @elysia-nsimp @skrimpyskimpy

@casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @tixdixl @poisoned-pearls @the-trinket-witch

@ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts @the-banana-0verlord @cloudcountry

@skriblee-ksk @twstinginthewind @lumdays @theolivetree123 @natsukishinomiyaswife

@authoruio @jewelulu @raguiras @honeynclove @moonyasnow

@skibidibabygirl @paperclvps @quartztwst @devosin

[eowynstwin]

I love how you write and view COD in general, so let’s hear some Ghost hcs

Slightly NSFW.

He’s got more tattoos—his legs have a lot, and he’s got a back piece he’s working on. They’re all black and white, he doesn’t like color tattoos.

On that note though, he learned how to stick and poke as a teenager, and now as an adult he’s actually very good at it. He touches up his own tattoos, and if you��re one of his people he’ll give you any kind of ink you like, as long as you don’t ask for anything other than black ink lol

On the topic of body mods, his dick is pierced. He’s got a Jacob’s ladder. He got it a little before he was recruited into the 141—it was kind of an exercise in seeing if the pain would make him feel anything. It didn’t. (He discovered its popularity in the bedroom later.)

He owns like ten of the same black shirt and jeans. This man is NOT fashion-forward. But you will never catch him in cargo shorts. Even he isn’t that uncool. It turns out he dresses well—if always casually—just by virtue of not making his clothing choices complicated.

So, it’s almost certain he made his skull plate mask, right? Which means he’s got some familiarity with needle and thread. I think Ghost, more than once, has popped a seam in his pants or his shirt, because he’s a BIG boy. And he was raised in poverty, so no fucking way is he going to just buy new ones. So he mends his own clothes. His stitches are rarely pretty, but they’re always solid.

He’s actually a big fix-it guy overall. It’s a byproduct of growing up poor—you don’t waste money on something new if the old thing just needs a part replaced. If something stops working, he takes it apart, figures out what’s wrong, and puts it back together. He’s very efficient about it too—those projects take a day at most. He hates a mess.

As a result, if you’ve been fucking him on the regular (because remember, Ghost doesn’t date), he starts making note of little projects he could get into at your place. Cracks in the wall he could spackle. A door that scrapes at the jamb when you close it that he could rebalance. A coffee maker that takes forever to brew that he could clean out. If you let him do any of these projects, you’re never getting rid of him. (And with the Jacob’s ladder why would you honestly want to?)

I think the psychological functions of these projects are an exercise in trying to fix something to make up for what he can no longer fix. He failed a lot of people—primarily his family. Maybe if he can make your car stop making weird noises when it turns, he’s redeemed a tiny cut of the massive debt he owes to the dead. He does not think like this, I can’t stress enough. It is not a conscious process. But it doesn’t change the tiny relief he feels at making a broken thing work again.

If you ever point out that making broken things work again is kind of exactly the function of the Ghost persona, he’ll disappear for several months.

But he’ll come back. You’ll have to yank an apology out of his teeth, but you can get one out of him if you’re honest enough about how fucking horrible you felt when he left without a word. He felt horrible when he was gone, too. You just scared him, with how you cut to the very crux of who and why he is. That kind of vulnerability is a horror Ghost doesn’t know how to face.

But he stays with you for a long while, longer than he ever has, after he comes back.

[silky-nereid]

— Awaken, my love!

yandere!Reanimator x reanimated!reader

Yandere! Reanimator who returns home after a long travel and is utterly distraught finding out that you tragically suffered from a contagious disease that spread rapidly through the once peaceful town.

Yandere! Reanimator who manages to find only some parts of your limbs and gets your perfect condition brain back from a merchant since somehow the dead diseased brains became a strange delicacy.

Yandere! Reanimator who sketches out your features on a clean parchment paper to remember what you look like and she disregards her moral compass to bring you back.

After fourteenth digging up, she had stopped hurling up the remains of dinner. Sweat dribbled down her forehead, pushing up her wireframes to see correctly. Her sweaty hands gripped the bloodied bone saw, tied a faded ribbon to the forearm.

“My love would want this.” She wiped the sweat from her forehead. “I’m doing this for them.”

Back and forth. Back and forth. She collected the forearm and pulled out an upper arm piece that started at the bicep to see if it would match to be a perfect fit.

She smiled returning to the basement, replacing the wilted flowers that you favorites with newer ones to cover up the overwhelming smell of rotting parts. Her gloved hands caressed your covered face, pulling back the white cloth to see the stitches of flesh littered over your face as some skin was too far burned to be saved and she couldn’t let you be even more broken.

Yandere! Reanimator who smiles and buys clothes for you which she still joins in the rare luncheon by fellow neighbors because she still has to make the rare appearance. She still celebrates your anniversary and birthday because all she needs is a time to continue.

Yandere! Reanimator who unwittingly follows the mourning period and has brought clothes that fit your body. She often forgets to care for herself because she’s deep into stitching the body parts and gets rid of flesh too far rotten.

Yandere! Reanimator who notices the odd stares from the town sheriff but ignores them. She smiles since today would be the perfect day to have you brought back and she happily set up the table where you would come back to her.

“My love.” She heard the downpour through the basement. “You’ll come back to me and everything will be normal.”

She placed you on the metal slab, opening the wooden doors and pulling the chains that lifted you towards the downpour and hearing the distant thunder coming closer and closer.

“Awaken, my love!” She smiled. “We have many things to do when you awaken!”

Her hands held an ax, haggard breathing escaped her lips. Her eyes looked towards the unconscious sheriff and then back to you whose lungs rattled against the rib cage, stepping back to the chain that pulled you back down. Her eyes widened, seeing you immediately sit up with your limbs cracking with each movement and the smile on her face grew even more.

Yandere! Reanimator who keeps the lips of the sheriff quiet by bribing and helps you get readjusted to the new reality and always keeps you inside during the day. She smiles when you try to leave the house but she manages to pull you back to her.

Yandere! Reanimator who’s facade is cracking because you’re wanting to be independent and going back to your old ways of being alive. She occasionally sabotages your attempts to be independent because she can provide for you.

Yandere! Reanimator who tries to stay calm because you started using a different name for yourself and now decided to ask her to create a new person that can understand you which fully cracks her calm persona.

Her hands were covered in spilled ink, her eyes filled with tears and lips trembled. Her pink dressing gown’s trim was coated with splats of blood.

“I did this for you.” Her stained hands grabbed your shoulders. “I did everything for you and you want me to create someone new for you? I won’t do it.”

Your unsteady eyes looked at her with a recognizable emotion; fear. Her once warming eyes bloomed with unbearable hatred and she pressed your back against the bookshelf.

“Why are you so ungrateful?” She asked. “You ask so much. I want the person I love back, I brought you back and act like an entirely different person.”

You managed to scramble out of her grasps and legs out the door and into the scorching sunlight. Watery eyes darted up to the white ball of the sun, your stitched hand rose up to cover one of your eyes. Your other hand grazed the green grass, your ears heard an unfamiliar noise which was a familiar mixture of bird’s shrieking with a human-like quality.

She found you once more, curled in the abandoned cemetery up. Her eyes looked at your disheveled appearance, she held your stitched face as you slowly came too. She held you close to her and heard the wheeze of your lungs, her hand rested on your nape and thumb next to your ear.

“I love you,” she said. “You will learn to accept my love.”

[luffyvace]

STRAW HAT HEADCANONS

YUP YUP

as a thx for being patient for me not posting all day-

you get the whole crew!! :)

(some of these are based off true stories i’ve heard of from my friends 😭🧍‍♀️)

Luffy

never a peaceful day goes by

hes the type of guy that has to make noise if it’s “too silent”

like bro can’t we get some peace and quiet??

thrives in chaos

his eye to hand coordination is on point bc this man doesn’t think before he does ANYTHING

steals things from his crew even

if he sees something he likes he just takes it

he goes into the bathroom, puts boogers on the tissue then leaves

doesn’t even take it off or flush it

the next person who has to use that bathroom is mortified

when nami finds out and holds a whole meeting to find out who did this terrible act of crime

they find out it’s him he just laughs

per usual

stop this madness.

(he doesn’t)

Zoro

also a menace

not as straightforward with it though

its more like if he gets water everywhere when washing his hands

or spills his drink when pouring it

or pee all over the toilet

he’s kinda like oh whoops

(for future reference- my apologies for who ever you simp for here bc these headcanons don’t hold back)

anyway

sometimes he doesn’t shower after he trains

and just walks in the kitchen full body REEKING 😭😭😭

seriously dude take a shower

”i’ll cool off eventually”

THAT AINT GONNA GET RID OF THE STENCH

it makes me doubt he changes his underwear often enough

he leaves empty water bottles everywhere

it’s worse in the crows nest trust

Nami

thankfully this poor victim isn’t nearly as much as a menace

as long as you pay your beli

is genuinely willing to wait as long as it takes to get that money

and if you die she’s taking your life insurance

if your a pirate and have none she probably just takes whatever money and belongings you own

if it’s gems she’ll keep them but otherwise

she sells your clothes and other stuff that’s not worth much

smells like flowers

yes i said it

every time she comes out the shower something chaotic has happened

ah what a refreshing shower..

WHAT DO YOU MEAN LUFFY UPSET ANOTHER GOD 😱

😡✊ 🤣 💥 😓 😑

you can guess what happened

Usopp

his luck heavily fluctuates

sometimes he can get away with stealing. from. nami.

wow.

to other times getting blamed for farting

by luffy

and no one likes that feeling

has a better fashion sense but just chooses to dress how he does

no reason really

he can do hair and paint nails

nail painting he learned from kaya

would love horse back riding if he tried

he would suck at first tho

likes little children but they always end up beating him up for some reason

‘his cooking isn’t that good!’

‘let’s jump him!’

‘yeah!!’

besides the usopp pirates—they just do

Sanji

he could pull if he just stopped simping so hard

opla sanji is proof

his favorite thing to cook is spicy foods

him and chopper bond over spices bc some are good for your health and all

chopper sometimes recommends new herbs to put in foods

and vice versa for medicine

he helps chopper shop for herbs and such

if zoro wasn’t his big brother it was def be sanji

i love this duo it need more screen time

Sanji is a natural with children

which is why i wanna know why he ain’t wifed up yet?!

still hasn’t had his first kiss

prob would’ve genuinely married pudding if she was regular girl or at least not a big mom pirate

Chopper

sweetest person ever

looks up to all the straw hats

so he picks up bad habits from them

and is influenced by them easily

they use him as a tie breaker for stuff

they all bribe him to picking they’re option

usually robin, nami, sanji or zoro wins

robin bc she uses her psychological knowledge

nami bc she offers to buy his doctor stuff (which is rare)

sanji bc they have a close bond and relate to each other

and zoro bc they’re bond too (and bc he scares him sometimes- like that time in water 7)

asks people to help him with his doctor research

everyone was willing until the time usopp had diarrhea

then he could only convince luffy to do it 😭

Robin♥︎

her stare scares the rest of the straw hats

if it’s not a genuine smile and more like a distant stare that is

shes always observing and watching

theres no hiding secrets from her

she’s knows all

she actually reminds me of a friend i had irl and idk how to feel abt it

she wasn’t a bad person

she was just

just like robin 🧍‍♀️

anyway

i wonder if robin would read stephen king?

she would prob big up the book

only for them to find out it’s pretty dark

she prefers tea over coffee any day

its healthier w more health benefits

it just suits her taste pallet more

plus it doesn’t stain your teeth yellow n stuff..

Franky

SO LOUD

the second he gets up-

SUPERRRRRRR

its kinda annoying

he doesn’t care much if you don’t like it

Luffy is louder ok

your fine

wants robin to think he’s cool

if you don’t get something he said he doesn’t feel like repeating himself

either leaves out more details the more he explains it

or stares at you until you get it

constantly requesting american food for dinner

he doesn’t mind noodles and other around the world dishes

but can he get some pizza??

is that too much??

actually such a kind and considerate person

can relate to sanji on his kindness and empathy being his superpower

♡♡BROOK♡♡

needs so much more attention

the only one who still laughs at his skull jokes are luffy and chopper

sometimes usopp if it was a good one

loves to exchange books with robin but..

sometimes they’re a bit scary

(dude your a skeleton…YOUR SCARY-)

robin listens to him well bc he has a wealth of knowledge

he is 90 after all

maybe brook gets his clothes tailored??( bc who makes clothes so skinny a skeleton could fit them?!)

can play instruments no ones ever even HEARD OF before

randomly re-realizes his generation of people is dead

like now he has to accommodate with the youngsters 😭

i mean people in one piece live pretty long

but still they’re not out here kickin it n allike they used to

like rayliegh-

except he’s younger-

way younger-

ok so maybe whitebeard

but he was still jukin-

IDK MAN

one piece people are weird..

JINBEI

idk much about him especially but imma try

he’s so cool

he can prob cook really well

has very good survival and leader skills

plus instincts

wait how old is he??

ok

looked it up he’s 46

so he’s the 2nd oldest

technically would be first if brook wasn’t a moving pile of bones

yohohoho!

my apologies your right this is jinbei.

ok

i feel like he can dance

like he knows traditional dances of all sorts

i mean he could travel under water pretty fast

he should be able to visit different places right?

besides, he was a warlord

of course he did!

i feel he wouldn’t be a simp

as in for boa specifically

like he’s like i got too much going on to simp over some youngster

ik he ain’t real old or anything

but my dude a grown man

bro ain’t got time

he’s too busy being himothy

i feel he’d like poems

jinbei’s was like the most serious one. and that was still all over the place itself-

i take it back probably chopper or robin

this was fun but it took so long. it’s ok u guys enjoy :). i’m off to watch some anime 🏃‍♀️

oh my GOODNESS. so many tags 🤓

[the-martyrfication-of-the-matron]

i wish to know more about the culture in Pheonix Drop, the central place for a lot of stuff in mcd :3

Ofc!!

Cut bc it’s a long post:

When it comes to Phoenix Drop, there’s not a lot of very evident ‘aesthetic’ culture. In the sense that clothes are often bland or bought from other villages and towns, as the people of Phoenix Drop cannot afford the time to spend to making clothes. Buildings are basic and run-down, patched together with any available techniques and materials as opposed to committing to a style. Hair is often thrown up into a hairdo and covered with a kind of veil instead of being intricately woven as there’s just not enough hours in the day to commit to it.

Clothes can vary. A lot. Most of PD’s inhabitants are not PD natives, they come from other places and brought with them shreds of their own culture. Some people can be seen wearing bright fabrics and patterns, but it is especially rare, as most will sell their nice clothes to any merchants or travellers who happen upon the village in order to have the money to eat - no one who lives in Phoenix Drop tends towards the wealthy side, excluding one individual in particular.

As there is not a large amount of food or resources, most jobs are centred on getting the bare minimum of everything they need, instead of getting the best, as they simply cannot afford it. Most clothes made in Phoenix Drop are plain, often varying shades of Beige (sometimes dyed or stained, if the buyer has the money to spare, most don’t) and shapeless. It’s focused more on keeping people cool and covered, as Phoenix Drop is set in the warm north-east. At most, people tend to accessorise with leather straps and wooden beads. They just don’t have the excess time or money to waste metal on jewellery instead of weapons.

Those with a little bit extra might be able to travel out of the village momentarily, or to afford the prices of clothing merchants who arrive in the village, and will buy some clothes of higher quality. This can include corsets/stays/support pieces, which are often low quality at the prices they can afford and not particularly pretty, or clothes that are slightly brighter in colour.

All clothes will eventually tear and wear holes, and get patches and stains, so having a clothing item which looks entirely new is pretty sought after. They will sometimes trim the edges of their skirts/trousers/sleeves in order to get rid of torn/fraying/stained edges, which can eventually shorten them quite considerably. Eventually, having long clothes also became a bit of a status thing. Even though that meant they were then more easily stained, and torn… which meant they’d have to be cut… and it’s a cycle.

Hair covering is a bit of an older tradition and isn’t followed by everyone, but it’s one of the aspects of PD’s culture that is a remnant of its former actual culture. The veils are usually quite small, and don’t cover all of the hair, but it does depend on the individual, and the material can really be anything, the weight in the tradition lies in the symbolism of wearing it, less in the covering of the hair, so things like lace and more sheer fabrics are acceptable. Of course, no one in PD is rocking a lace veil, no one is that fancy.

Even those that don’t cover their hair tend to style their hair in a particularly dull way. There is nothing unique, it is usually just a bun or other kind of knotted hair. It is based off of former PD cultural hair styles that no one had the time to do anymore, after the village grew far too poor to focus on anything but work, and just kind of got lost.

Having your hair tied up is definitely expected if your hair is long enough to tie up, even for men (this rule also goes for facial hair). Those who don’t are often people who are seen to… lack any kind of dignity, and this isn’t always seen as a negative. It’s a good way for prostitutes to be able to subtly market themselves during the day, whilst also being able to be covered from the sun. And anyone can have their hair down, it’s just something that can lead to confusion if someone is new in town and doesn’t know that you aren’t offering those services.

For music, it’s not easy to get your hands on, and then maintain, instruments. A lot of music is made through vocal means, or instruments that are more durable and/or easier to fix/make. Drums, for example. People cannot dedicate their entire lives to figuring out how to make music sound good in PD, so it tends to just be a little bit unskilled, but that’s the charm of it. Usually music comes in the form of drunken chanting and banging their fists on tables/stomping, so it takes on a very rhythmic beat. Totally not because it sounds like a heart beat and I’m shoving heart symbolism everywhere… totally…

Anyways, it’s very common for people to hum and sing as they work. As they’re working all day, it helps break up the monotony. They have some songs about the tales of Irene and such, but most are just bullshit they’ve come up with when drunk or delirious. Brendan is responsible for half of them, if because he’s been half-asleep mumbling to himself, or he’s accidentally hit someone over the head whilst he was working.

There’s a lot of jumbled language. Like Phoenix Drop has people from a bunch of backgrounds, and so after a while they’ve just kind of mushed together words and phrases from different places for things. Kind of like how, irl, we get things like Spanglish when someone mixes Spanish and English words and phrases.

They have some very bizarre phrases and sayings because they originate in other languages but they just started saying it in common and it became A Thing.

And there’s more but this post is LONG.

I could go into the work culture, social norms, all that. I’m insane.

[thiswasinevitableid]

The Kepler Horror (Indruck)

The winner of the "weird mer" poll was: A mer who isn’t so much half-human, half-fish as all eldritch. This fill is NSFW and contains oviposition.

Content Notes: given the prompt, there is mild reference to body horror. There is also a brief reference to nonconsensual artificial insemination (for lack of a better word).

Men in fancy carriages are a rare sight in this part of the state, so all the neighbors are sticking their heads out the window to see what on earth could have brought one to the Newton’s front door. 

Duck’s father ushers the somber lawyer inside and his mother offers him something to drink, but he seems as uneasy with his visit as they do.

When they’re settled around the table, the man produces a paper, “This is the last will and testament of Alistair Cold.”

The four Newton’s trade a puzzled look. The Duck’s father snaps his fingers, “ah, yes, the fella my uncle Herbert worked for.”

“The very same. Mr. Cold passed away in the summer” he indicates where the paper is dated June 8th, 1872, “And was without any living family. This will stipulates his house, land, and all possessions and money go to his loyal servant, Charles. Except, Charles died the same night Mr. Cold did. Since Mr. Cold was insistent the state not come into possession, his will also lays out which servant to consider next. The two prior to your uncle flatly refused the offer and turned over their rights to it. And your uncle, as you no doubt know, passed in October. His own will named you his heir, which entailed only the bequeathment of a horse.”

“She’s a good horse.” His father replies. 

“The point is, Mr. Newton, the estate on the coast is all yours.”

His father turns his attention to Duck, “seems to me it’s high time my son had a place to call his own. The money won’t hurt none neither.”

“Mr. Newton, you don’t have a-”

“I know what I said.”

Duck smiles to himself, and lets himself daydream about his future home.

—------------------------------------------------

Indrid swims up, up, up the dark shaft, out of habit and foolish hope more than anything else. The hatch at the top is sealed like it always is. Like the futures say it always will be. 

He lets out a burbly sigh and sinks down, down, down once again. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

Duck doesn’t believe in ghosts. But if there was ever a house to be haunted, it’s the one staring down at him now. 

The view of the sea is nice. It’s the creaking frame, rattling windows, and yards of spiderwebs he could do without. All the rooms are full of dusty ghosts, chairs and tables and fancy shit he has no name for peeking out from their shrouds. 

He bought new clothes in Richmond (his sister, Jane, came with him that far so he could buy her some too), mostly practical outfits for working on the house or in the–badly overgrown–garden. A few are for dinner parties or going out into the nearby town of Kepler, and maybe even for impressing a sweetheart. But before he can tuck them safely away in the wardrobes, he has to pull heaps of grim, unused clothing from the darkness. 

As he explores the house, he takes mental note of just how many things he can get rid of. No one needs this much china or this many silver nick-knacks. Not even their previous owner, going from how new most of them look. 

While in the library, he leans against the mantle of the unlit fireplace. When the stone beneath his elbow depresses, he momentarily panics that the whole damn place is about to come down around his ears. Instead, a panel opens in the floor of the eastern corner, revealing a sharply angled, stone staircase. 

He debates whether it’s safest to ignore the weird, creepy staircase or follow it to make sure there’s not something weirder and creepier lurking under his house. He decides he’d rather not be murdered in his sleep by, grabs the pistol his dad insisted he bring, and takes his lantern into the depths beneath the mansion. 

When he reaches the bottom, he gets a hunch as to what probably killed Alistair Cold. 

He’s in a laboratory straight from the penny dreadfuls Jane is always reading. Jars of sickly, green liquid line the shelves and there’s a rack of surgical tools that makes him shudder when he sees how sharp they were kept. There are also several large books bound in brown leather containing nothing but an alien language and pictures so upsetting he instantly slams them closed. 

“That’s enough of the creepy basement for today.” He says it aloud just to hear a familiar voice. 

As he turns to leave, he steps on a pedal at the base of a cabinet. Grinding metal fills the air and he braces for something to blow up or fall over. When nothing happens, he decides that the pedal must be disconnected from whatever it once controlled, and heads back to the daylight. 

—--------------------------------------------

Can it be?

Indrid tentatively presses first his tentacles and then his whole body against the hatch of the tunnel. It groans, then gives way, revealing the lab in a similar state to the last time he saw it. There’s no sign of the master of the house, and so Indrid keeps quiet; the previous instance when he tried to free himself and explore without permission, the human sunk a stake of hawthorn into his center. The damned thing was enchanted and twisted to conform to his shape no matter how many times he rearranged his body. 

Tonight it’s safest to sit on the rim of the tunnel, drinking in the sounds of the surface. Tomorrow he’ll brave the laboratory. And the night after, the stairs. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

Duck prides himself on being friendly and easy going. Which is why he’s trying not to take it too personally that no one in this tavern has looked at him since he mentioned where he was living. The shoulder he’s getting is colder than the freezing rain outside. 

As he’s wondering if he’ll have to eat his dinner standing, a young woman with black hair and a massive, black rabbit in her lap waves him over to her table. She introduces herself as Aubrey, and they chat about how he’s liking Kepler. When yet another diner gives Duck a wide berth, she rolls her eyes. 

“Ignore them. They’re all jumpy because you’re living in the Cold place. The guy who lived there before was a major dick. But that didn’t have anything to do with the house.”

“I feel like I’m gonna regret asking but: what actually happened to him?”

Aubrey slowly spins her spoon on the table, “He was doing experiments with magic; if there’s something beyond black magic, I’m pretty sure it was that. Nasty stuff, stuff that made people sick or disappear or…” she shudders “apparently he had a thing for kidnapping women who’d then give birth to kids they couldn’t remember wanting or conceiving. I only moved here two years ago, but I guess it’d been going on for a long, long time.”

“Jesus.”

“Right? I guess he eventually pissed off the wrong person or they figured out they outnumbered him, but a mob stormed the house, tied him to a tree, and burned him. And I get it but, like, it freaks me out that they’d just do that. Now I think everyone is treating your house like it’s this beacon of evil because weird stuff happens in Kepler all the time that they’re scared of.”

Duck’s mind wanders to the basement, “Weird stuff?”

“The fact that it rains all the time even though it doesn’t do the same one county up or down the coast, the freaky stuff people see while fishing, the ghostly shapes above the church every night, a higher than average number of witches, oh, and that guy, Stern,” she points to a tall, well dressed man who just walked in, “apparently he trained under a witch hunter? And then he got sent out here because there’s supposedly a giant, hairy monster in the woods that some people think is the devil but is probably a totally nice guy if I had to guess.”

The rabbit hops on the table and he pets its head, “And if a fella wanted to steer as clear of all that as possible?”

“Spend lots of time in your house? Like I said, as far as anyone knows, he was the only evil thing there. Or” Aubrey leans closer, “if you ever want to pal around with people who can help the weird feel less, um, threatening, come by Amnesty Lodge. It’s about a half-mile from your place, on the edge of the woods.”

Duck thanks her for the invitation and decides to avoid Amnesty Lodge as much as humanly possible. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------

Indrid is now certain Alistair Cold is no longer alive. As he trawls the laboratory, there’s no sign of him there or in any of the futures. This opens up so many possibilities his whole being shivers in excitement. 

The only reason he does not rush upstairs is he’s hungry, and if there is anyone else in the house he does not wish to embarrass himself by eating their entire pantry. And so he slithers back depths in search of dinner and leaves his exploration for tomorrow. 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

There’s someone in the house. 

From his bed, Duck can hear them moving on the lower level, the odd bump of furniture and strange chirp interrupting the steady sound of whoever it is moving closer. When it reaches the stairs, instead of steps there’s a horrible, repetitive squelching until the monster–because there’s no fucking way this is a person–is on the landing. 

He knows for a fact he locked all the doors to the outside and, as a result, his bedroom door isn’t. If he moves, it might know he’s here and zero in on him. But if he gets to the door in time, he can keep whatever is stalking the halls at bay until he figures out what the fuck to do. 

The bedroom door creaks the instant his feet hit the floor. It groans open, the surrounding darkness offering no clues as to what’s on the other side. 

Tentacles come first, patting the walls and floor. Then there’s a horrible skitter as crab-like feet cross the threshold. The mass at the center of the body tips this way and that, and no matter how hard or long he stares he can’t make any sense of it. Milky eyes on what could be a neck give way to gaping gills lined with teeth but then they don’t and he’s looking at some new aspect of the horror. 

When the monster turns, floor wet beneath it and attention fully on Duck, he does the least helpful thing possible. 

He faints. 

When he comes too, it’s with a nose of dark, sea-salty air. Something alien is resting on his face, and he braces himself to discover he’s already being digested. 

The cool tissue on his face pats his cheek, which startles him into opening his eyes. He’s sitting on the floor, his back to the bed. There’s still a monster in front of him; its face is human, with silver-white hair falling around the angles of its cheeks and its glowing, red eyes. But the skin on its arms is mottled black and red, the texture too close to that of an eel for comfort, its hands are webbed and end in blood-red claws, and a frill of the same color sits behind its neck. Stranger still is the black fish-tail draped on the floor and the fact a patch of its chest is translucent, revealing an incomprehensible, teeming mass. 

It’s a mermaid from hell. Compared to what was in the room before, it may as well be a kitten. 

“Ah, you are awake!” The monster sits back and claps its hands, “I caught you before you could hit your head but I am never sure how long humans remain asleep when they faint and was beginning to worry.”

“You can talk.”

“Indeed. Oh, oh dear, where are my manners” he holds out a hand, “I am Indrid. You are Duck, yes?”

“How did you know that? And, and where did that other thing go?”

The monster cocks his head, “I am it. I can change shape to a degree, and I can see the future, which is how I know your name and that you are about to say you need a drink. I will fetch it.” Indrid tries to stand, frowns, and then his tail splits in two.

Duck looks away, stomach churning, until footsteps fade across the floor. He’d though Aubrey was exaggerating about what went on here but no, no it’s pouring rain outside and pinching his arm tells him he isn’t dreaming. 

The monster rejoins him on the floor and offers a cup from the dresser. Not knowing what else to do, he takes it. 

“You are afraid of me.”

“I, uh, I ain’t not-not, fuck, uh, I” he sighs, “yeah, okay, you got me, I’m afraid. Because a fucking sea monster turned up in my house!”

Indrid flinches at the noise, “I did not know you were residing here. I only know the hatch was open once more and I was so very excited to visit the surface once more” A thin membrane blinks across his eye, “goodness, I forgot how overwhelming it is to take in so much of the world through my eyes.” He looks sadly at Duck, but scoots a good six feet back across the floor, “I am sorry. I do not blame you. All humans fear the creatures of the depths. Except for Alistair.”

Duck sets the glass on the floor, “Can we go back to the part where you came through a hatch?”

“It is in the laboratory. If you wish I will show you. And yes, I am aware that showing you means you would then know how to bar me from the house. But that is your right; I do not wish to bother you.”

Against all his common sense, Duck stands and follows Indrid down the stairs, through the secret passage, and into the lab. They come to a circular, metal hatch on the floor, inscribed with the same, strange letters Duck saw in Cold’s notes. Indrid opens it, then slides in and rests his arms on the edge. 

“Alistair made this to allow a creature from the depths to arrive at the surface in a matter of seconds. I was the one he was able to summon, and for a time he would let me marvel at the surface world while he asked me questions and wrote out formulas in his notebooks. Then one day, the hatch was locked and I could no longer visit. I did not miss him, but the surface world…I love it so, and I saw so little of it and when I found this unlocked I simply…I wanted…” he looks away and Duck discovers that same translucence on his chest races up his spine, “I am sorry. It was foolish of me to emerge. I will depart, and you need not see me again.”

Duck should let him go, seal the hatch, and then move to Australia. But Indrid’s honest, strange sorrow tugs at his heart, and he wonders what could make such a terrifying creature long for a life so different from what he knows. Wonders if Indrid, floating in the abyss, feels as out of place as Duck sometimes did on the street back home. 

“I’ll make you a deal. You can come visit, but we gotta get a bell or something for you to ring so I know you’re here and don’t have a heart attack when I open a door and you’re behind it. We clear?”

Indrid grins with several rows of teeth, climbs from the pool, and grabs a length of rope dangling from the ceiling. When he tugs it, a bell sounds in the house above them. 

Duck stares at the smiling monster, wondering what the fuck he’s agreed to, and says, “Yep, that’ll work.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The bell first rings two days later. Duck is at the dining table, rain battering the windows. It’s been so stormy the last few days that going into town carried a real risk of getting washed away or sucked into the mud, so he’s used his time to read up on wet-weather gardening and work on a model ship. 

When the bell sounds, he wonders if Indrid will even come to see him, since his interest was in the house and not with Duck. But after only a few moments, footsteps announce the merman (Duck can’t think of what else to call him) by the fireplace. Indrid waves, awkward but earnest, and comes to join him, swaying in his steps like a new sailor at sea. 

“Hello again.”

“Howdy. Uh, do you need anythin’ from me?”

“No. I do enjoy company, but there is no need to entertain me.” 

Duck nods and goes back to his work. Indrid looks at the books, then stands and begins wandering the room, returning to the window every few minutes to stare out at the rainy road and the town in the distance. When Duck asks if he’d like some coffee, he says yes and then dumps half the sugar bowl into it when Duck brings him some. 

“What do you do?” The merman sips his coffee. 

“Fuck all at the moment. I went from helpin my folks with farm work to bein a fella with a mansion and a bunch of money. I’ll get bored of it eventually, but right now it’s nice to just kinda drift around.”

“Drifting can be rather relaxing.” Indrid pads over to the finished ship, claws clicking on china as he studies it, “will this then go in a bottle? I have seen those in books.”

“Nah, that’s a whole level of fuss I ain’t willin’ to go to.”

Indrid offers a hum of understanding, then touches a hand to the table. A deep blue ocean of mist spreads from his fingers, catching the underside of the boat. Then Duck can see the outlines of whales and squid beneath the waves, all matching the scale of his boat. The mist unfurls across the table, his boat sailing it until it lands safely in his hands. The ocean lingers, curling around him so he can watch the schools of fish and stray mermaids swimming within it. When it dissipates, he turns, awestruck and grinning, to Indrid. 

“What was all that for?”

The merman shrugs, happily, “I wanted to see if I could make you smile.”

—--------------------------------------------------------

Since it’s a drizzle rather than a downpour, Duck is taking the afternoon to fetch supplies from town. As he’s un-tethering his horse, Winnie, from in front of the general store, his gaze falls on a heartbreaking sight; a child, no more than ten, sits on the corner, knees to her chest and her hand out. Her ears are shaped like coral and he spots a frill much like the one on Indrid. Most people who see her cross the street. 

“It’s tragic, isn’t it?”

Duck turns to find Joseph Stern behind him. 

“Where the hell are her folks?”

“Dead, I believe. The flu took them last year and the orphanage in Ashington won’t take her.” He steps beside Duck, “she’s not the only child in Kepler to suffer this way either. There are some with gills who cannot survive for more than a few hours away from water. Some with webbed hands, or teeth that mean their tongues struggle to speak in a way that others understand. A few are lucky and have family who protect them as they should. But many have been cast from place to place since they could walk. I believe Mrs. Cobb at the Lodge does what she can for them."

“The kids Aubrey talked about.” Duck murmurs. 

Stern’s blue eyes are now fixed on him, “Exactly. No one quite knows what Alistair Cold did up in that house. The women he kidnapped could never recall what happened. A few even got up the courage to ask him for help when horrified families or husbands turned them and the children out. He threatened to drown them.”

“Jesus.”

“My feelings exactly. Kepler harbors strange things. Some say evil things. They think that it rots anything it touches” Stern glances in the direction of Duck’s house, “Regardless of what forces he called on, I think Alistair Cold was rotten well before he came here. There’s no reason to make others suffer because of that.”

“So you don’t think those, uh, forces are automatically bad?”

“Not at all. Things can be strange to us without that making them evil. In fact, I find such gaps in our understanding fascinating. You’ll let me know if you ever encounter anything unusual up there, won’t you?”

Duck chokes out a “yep” and then tugs Winnie away before Stern can ask any more questions. 

—------------------------------------------------------------

It’s bliss to lay on the stone of the balcony while rain plinks on his skin. Indrid knows the constant storms are driving Duck up the wall, but he rather likes the damp, grey air. No birds are calling right now, but he can hear the shrieks of the McElroy children playing in the front garden. Duck had watched them as a favor to his nearest neighbors; their carriage had run off the road near Duck’s home and the wife had to accompany her husband to the doctor for a broken leg. When the children returned home hale and happy, the family was more willing to take Duck up on the offer to send them to play on his land whenever they wished. 

Indrid stays inside on those days, as it would doubtless alarm the boys to see him, even in his current, somewhat human form. 

That reminds him; he should show Duck that he’s almost able to make his hands look like they belong to a man. 

Hours pass and the children depart before he finally rises and slips inside the warmth of the house. Duck is in the kitchen, frying fish in a pan while toast cooks on the rack. There’s a chocolate tart from the baker in town sitting on the counter and Indrid is very much looking forward to eating it. 

It will soothe him after the conversation they’re about to have. It’s one he’s known was coming since Duck returned from town a few weeks ago looking rather grim. 

As the human sets dinner on the table, he says, “‘Drid? What exactly did you and Mr. Cold do?”

“At first it was simply conversation. He had found a book containing the secrets and the language of the depths, and by summoning me hoped to achieve a greater understanding. I assumed our interests were alike in that we each wished to know more of a world that was otherwise inaccessible to our kind. For two years, I would guide him through spells and help him devise formulas to combine human science with my abilities. He was so pleased with our work together that he would say I was like the son he never had and he was glad to know me.” 

Indrid picks up a fish and eats it because it’s something to do as the memories swarm him, “then one night he called me up and there was a woman in the laboratory with him. I was so excited, I wanted to meet more humans than him and his manservant. He knew this. But when I emerged it was in the form in which you first saw me and she screamed so loudly I panicked and dove back into the water. She was there the next night, too, but offering her this form did not calm her in the slightest. Nor did Alistair's insistence that I touch her.” He curls in on himself at the memory, “I refused and we argued and he shoved me back into the water and locked the hatch. A few nights later he tried again, this time with someone who was asleep when I emerged. He tried to tell me it was alright, that I could do as I wished. I wished to do nothing at all. I may live at the bottom of the ocean, but I was not born yesterday.”

Duck looks visibly relieved at this confession. 

“After that night, it all changed. I was forbidden from leaving the pool, and Alistair would only summon me to scrape secretions from my tentacles or pull my teeth and I would let him because I hoped, foolishly, that we would see eye to eye once more and he would no longer be angry.” His claws scrape on the table, “I am glad he is dead.”

The human reaches over and takes his hand, “I’m so fuckin sorry, ‘Drid. You deserve better than that.”

His frill ripples as he looks at Duck, “Yes. Yes, I believe I do.”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------

He knows humans get ill. Indeed, one of Alistair's lies to him was that their research would help cure human ailments. But knowing they get sick and seeing his human laid up in bed are two painfully different things. 

Duck insists it’s just a mild flu, but Indrid insists on him resting as much as possible so it does not get worse. This does leave him to tend the house and make food for them both himself,  but so far he’s managing. 

Today he is making chicken soup, and has followed all directions except for how to dismember the chicken; the knife seemed unnecessary given his claws. It’s been simmering on the stove while he goes and makes sure Winnie’s stable and hay are still covered after last night's wind (and to feed her the sugar cube he always sneaks her). 

He has to slip back inside through the kitchen door, as the neighbor’s children are at the front one they’ve gone, he retrieves the basket they left on the steps. He can still hear them laughing and shouting down the road when he takes Duck’s tray up to him. 

“Sustenance!” 

Duck smiles groggily at him, “Thanks, ‘Drid. Was someone at the door?”

“Clint’s boys. They left us this along with a note saying they hope you feel well soon.” He holds up a jar of honey.

“That was nice. Kids’re nice.”

“Indeed.” Indrid sits in the wooden chair by the bed, “do you want children?”

“Yeah. And no? Don’t wanna have ‘em. People’d see me wrong. But a family could be nice.” Feverish, green eyes turn on him, “you?”

“From what you have told me I may already have some that I was not privy to the creation of.” He sneakily summons a cool tentacle to wipe sweat from Ducks’ brow, “beyond that…I do not know. My kind are few, and the last time I ran into a deep one who looked like me he tried to eat me.”

“Cause you're so sweet.”

“I suspect I taste like fish.” Indrid pours him a new glass of water before realizing the true meaning of what Duck said. He decides to leave it be, not wanting to read too much into what the human says while feverish, and adds, “now, eat up so you can be well and take me for a walk on the beach as you promised.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

Duck’s definitely over his flu, but he took today easy due to still feeling a bit wobbly on his feet. Indrid left him a note saying he’d be spending most of the day in the sea. Duck’s glad; the merman spends as much, if not more, time at the surface with Duck than he does in the depths, and Duck has a nagging fear that one day he’ll spend too long on land and get sick. 

He turns in early, reading under the covers while the wind howls. When the tell-tale ding echoes from below him, he calls out to let Indrid know where he is. 

“You have a nice day?” Duck asks as the merman enters the room. 

“Mmm” 

Duck looks up at the whimpered answer. The first surprise is that the translucent patches on Indrid’s chest have turned into shining, pulsing scales. The second is that Indrid doesn’t sit once he reaches the bed. Instead he pulls the covers aside and wiggles under, pressing his front to Duck’s left side. 

“‘Drid? You ok-”

“No. No I am not. Being away from you all day has been agony. Every fiber of me ached until this moment.” He nuzzles closer, clicking and trilling, “and I do not know why my form changed without my permission. Perhaps it was caring for you these last few days but I, I” his claws fist into Duck’s shirt, “I cannot think of anything but claiming you.”

Duck’s not sure which is stranger; that Indrid seems so distressed at the idea, or that Duck can’t imagine not opening his legs for him right now.

He rolls onto his side, draws a finger along the new scales and gets a trill in reply, “Darlin’, is that your way of sayin you wanna fuck me?”

Indrid’s frill fans out, “It does not need to be that! Just holding you is enough for, for now.”

The red and black on his skin is swirling like storm clouds, and Duck smooths his palm along a patch, “And what happens when it ain’t?”

Indrid chirp-burbles something in his native tongue. 

“Didn’t quite catch that.” He hazards a grope to Indrid’s thigh. 

“Then I hold you down and do things to you humans do not want!” Indrid covers his face with his hands, “Worse still is that I want them, I want you but I know such acts with me are repulsive.”

Duck takes both hands, easing them away from Indrid’s face and kissing the webbing between the fingers, “Not to me they ain’t. Not when it’s with you, the fella who’s fuckin captivatin’ to look at and makes me laugh and still gets so damn excited when he sees the rabbits playin’ in the grass.”

“You would truly let me mate with you?”

“Long as it don’t produce anything, then yeah.”

Indrid shakes his head and nudges Duck onto his back, “I have looked at every conceivable future and in none of them do we create offspring. Indeed, I suspect what Alistair hit upon might be the only way I could have children with a human. All of which is to say: please take off your clothes.”

Duck laughs at the formality but obeys. The instant he’s naked in the lamplight, more parts of Indrid’s body than make sense begin rippling and twitching.

“Such a handsome human. Let us see what I have in store for you.” He leans down, bracketing Duck with his arms, and kisses him soundly. With his eyes closed, it’s as if Duck is feeling se spray on his lips, and when he wraps his arms around the merman and toys with his frill, the kiss deepens. It’s only when he feels something hard pressing into each thigh that he breaks it to look down. 

Indrid now has a second set of arms, more shelled than scaled, and is using them to force his thighs farther apart. 

“Do you like them? I feel they will be necessary to keep my mate from running off. And to make certain he takes all I have to offer.”

Duck moans at the menace in his voice, “And what do you have to offer, darlin?”

Indrid dips his head in reply and Duck looks lower to see the skin and scales of his groin rippling. Then reality jolts for a moment and something singularly unusual is extending towards him. Indrid’s cock is thick and flexible, with a ribbed line running down the lower third of it. 

“Holy fuck.”

“Is it still alright?”

Were it attached to anyone else, he’d say no. But right now his body is sending all his blood south at the thought of Indrid being so far inside him. 

“Hell yeah it is.”

The scales on Indrid’s chest pulse, “Wonderful. Because I am out of patience.”

Duck yelps as Indrid lunges forward, kissing him and sinking his cock into him at the same time. The shaft barely fits, and every time Indrid snaps his his there’s a thud as it bottoms out. 

“Ohhhhhh you are delightful.” Indrid trills as he forces Duck’s hips wider, the sound turning muffled as the merman kisses a hungry line down his neck to his chest. For a moment Duck fears the attention to his chest will prove too much, but Indrid contents himself with a possessive bite to each side before gliding his mouth back up to suck bruises into his collarbone. 

“Fuck, ‘Drid, this is fuckin amazing, you feel so goddamn good uh, what, what’s that.” He squirms as something presses between his asscheeks. 

“It seems my form adapts to fill as many holes as are present.”

“I ain’t ever had somethin-AH, oh, ohfuck” he bucks his hips as the second dick works it’s way in. There’s a strange pressure and heat to it, but it’s narrow and soft enough that he gets a shudder of pleasure instead of pain.

“That’s it, dearest, there is no need to fuss. I know how to take care of you. My heart, my soul, my very form will do whatever is needed to win and keep you.” Indrid grins down at him, licking his lips, “you were made to be laid in.”

Duck whimpers at the implication and tries to spread his legs wider. 

“Does that excite you sweet one? That my kind need somewhere warm and willing in order to lay a clutch?”

“Didn’t, didn’t even occur to me that’d happen. I, will, it won’t hurt right?”

A loving nibble to his throat, “Not at all. In fact I foresee you very much enjoying it. Which is excellent timing.”

Duck gasps as something soft yet solid emerges from the tip of Indrid’s cock. A moment later it’s inside him, rubbing against him as Indrid fucks him with increased vigor. 

“Yes, yesyes, that’s a good mate, there’s plenty more where that came from and you will take them all.” Both cocks pulse once, but only the one in the front produces another egg, “nnnf, this, this is selling me on the idea of a large family with you. Lots of space, plenty of money, we have all we need to care for several broods.”

“Ohgod, ohfuck, Indrid” the fantasy heats his blood as another egg pushes in.

“I’d take care of everything, look after them and the house if you decided to work. Mmm” he gropes Duck’s ass as the cock there fucks him deeper, “I do love the idea of you going into town bearing the proof of our evenings together. Everyone would see I’d claimed you. I would be the envy of the town once they knew you spread your legs whenever I wanted to breed you.”

“Fuuuck” He closes his eyes, losing himself in the image of Indrid on his arm in town, preening whenever someone notices the bites on his throat. The cock between his legs ripples, and now he’s full enough that it can’t fit all the way in when Indrid thrusts. The ridges and bumps of it catch his own cock, dragging him towards orgasm.

“Oh” Indrid’s sigh bubbles out of him, “look at you. So handsome, such a lovely husband to take me until you’re stuffed full.”

He cums at that, tightening around Indrid and digging his heels into the blankets. The merman is on him before he’s finished moaning, rolling them on their sides and releasing his thighs in favor of grabbing his ass and hips and forcing him closer. 

“I am not done with you, sweet one, so hold on tightly until I am through.”

Duck cries out as two more eggs pulse into him, Indrid only fucking him rougher as they do. The mer is everywhere, fucking him deep and splitting him open and sinking his teeth into his neck until there’s a trilling, watery cry and he cums so hard inside Duck that the force and the volume of the cum pushes his cock free. 

The other cock retreats as they pant in each others arms, Indrid’s frill rising and falling in time with his breath.

Duck raises his face form where he’s hidden it in Indrid’s neck, “You mean it when you called me your husband?”

“I did. If you would have me.”

He kisses his jaw, “You know I will. And not just because you fucked me so well I saw god.”

—-----------------------------------------

Spring in Kepler is still rainy, but the cluster of children waiting on the steps of what is now called Beacon House are all safely tucked beneath umbrellas. For those whose families did not abandon them, they will only be staying at the school until the afternoon before returning home (Aubrey will be teaching some classes and also driving the cart back to town). For those with nowhere else to go, they will be moving into the house for the foreseeable future. 

The group–eight in total–scurries across the threshold when Aubrey ushers them in. Mr. Newton waits for them at the foot of the stairs, smiling and genial in his brown suit. 

“We all here? Good. Mornin’ y’all. We're gonna get you settled into your rooms real soon. Uh, if you’re stayin here that is. If you ain’t, Aubrey will take you into the library so you can keep warm and read while the others put their things away. But before that, I want you to meet your other teacher” 

He gestures to the man coming down the stairs. A red scarf covers his neck, and all but his face and hands are covered by his black suit. 

“Mr. Cold here is gonna teach you some things Aubrey and I can’t. And make you feel right at home too.”

Still on the steps, Mr. Cold looks down at the children and smiles, ruby- tinted glasses slipping just enough to reveal glowing, red eyes.

[melestiasworld]

A few days ago, I watched the documentary "The Minimalists" on YouTube, and it was so inspiring that I started decluttering my home. I'm in a place right now where I just want less stuff—less clothing, less skincare, less decoration. I want to get rid of anything that doesn't serve me anymore.

I've realized I have a lot of things I rarely use and clothes I don't wear. I want every piece of clothing I own to be my favorite. I also have many sentimental items, so I plan to put them in a memory box.

What I liked about the documentary is that it emphasizes you don't have to get rid of EVERYTHING. If something still serves a purpose, you should keep it. I feel this way about the memories I've collected; I find joy in looking at them and remembering the past and the people I've loved. Or maybe I just have trouble letting go.

The hardest part for me would be getting rid of clothing. I know I have too much at the moment, and I just want to declutter. I tend to wear the same clothes in rotation, but fashion is a big part of my personality, so I cherish my clothes a lot. Having fewer clothes will also make creating outfits easier because of fewer options. It reminds me of the fashion DS game, "The House of Bling." At the start of the game, you don't have many clothes to build your character with. As you level up and start buying new clothes, by the end of the game, you have so many clothes that dressing up takes forever. You lose track of how much you really have.

Consuming and buying less is also freeing. A while ago, I decided to stop buying clothes from big firms for ethical reasons. When you're in a mall, you just feel this sense of freedom because you have the urge to buy when you're there.

I really like the mentality of "get rid of anything that doesn't serve you anymore." I think it can apply to different aspects of life. I want to keep this mindset with me. Getting rid of things felt good.

Wanderer above the Sea of Fog by Caspar David Friedrich, 1818

[dollsonmain]

And the fucking decision paralysis again.

So.

I decided to free up floor/work space by putting dolls in the doll house for now, because fixing the doll house floor will cost money. Either I need to buy new floor boards or I need to buy two boards to press them between.

So that can wait.

I also thought about whether or not I'd want to change this side of the room or move anything from here to other walls and I think no. this is ok as it is. Those pieces fit in that space rather well. There's about a 12in space left in the corner, which is where I've stuck the lamp. There's no light on that side of the room for some reason, so I put in that lamp, even though I rarely to never turn it on.

I'd have to hire someone to install another can light in the ceiling and don't want to.

-

I also freed up floor space in front of the ponies by dumping all of the stands I had sorted back into the stands box. I'll resort them some other time.

Now.... Those four little end tables rearranged to be a horizontal line instead of a square could potentially be used as the pony display area.

It would be nice to have more room for the ponies so I could space them out a little. It's a bit too chaotic in the center segment for me.

I don't know if you can tell, but I prefer varying heights in my displays. I don't like everything to be the same height or all of the shelves to align across the book cases. That overwhelms me for some reason, when everything is too homogeneous. I need the line to be broken.

The four end tables would be a little wider than this unit because this one has a little overlap on the ends. Each of those end squares are, I THINK, the same size as the end tables and the center segment is just slightly wider than two end tables.

That would make the pony area a little more boring, though. I'd have to do more manual variation of the display with risers and boxes, and that's fine. I don't mind.

However, I don't think that TV stand thing would be suitable for my BJD. I need more room for BJD, not less.

It's overfull as it is, and there are nine more upstairs in the office right now...

Those same 4 end tables would be less than double the width of the existing BJD display area, but can be spaced out a bit and rely on the stair-stacked boxes as surfaces.

There is the issue of the staired boxes being too shallow for the stands I have a few of them on, though.

Another option is to put the toy box and coffee table side by side between the book cases, but that does again saddle me with the dead space where the toy box is.

The toy box is ugly. It has clowns on it, so I keep it covered up, and that's ugly, too. It is an option, but not one that I want to do.

I mean, the toy box IS full of stuff but it's completely inaccessible when there are things on top of it which makes it non-viable for doll-things storage which was my intent.

I would get rid of the toy box but my grandmother asked me not to and she's still alive. I'll consider it again when she isn't.

I could get a really cheap table cloth and cover up the toy box in a nicer looking way, but it's still dead space.

-

Anyway, I think what I will do is empty out, wipe down, and separate the little end tables and then push them around and see how I feel about them here and there. They're relatively easy to put back together if I decided I don't like how that turns out, where dumping off all the ponies and BJD to try things out would be a huge pain in the ass.

[11x13kyle]

STYLE: 19, 20, 25, 12, 5

How do they silently/subtly express their love for each other?

kyle will caretake and stress over stan and is generally pretty nurturing towards him even if he doesn’t show it with his words and tone. like when stan is super hungover he’ll be complaining and bitching and lecturing stan about how careless he’s being and how he’s gonna kill himself one day and kyle’s gonna have to deal with it meanwhile is putting a hot rag on his forehead and wrapping him up in blankets like a burrito. stan’s method is also caretaking but more in the way of treating kyle like his little prince like having dinner ready when he comes home from work later or making him a whole new bookshelf because kyle made a one off comment about not having enough space for his books or carrying kyle to their bedroom from the couch because he yawned a few times.

What clothes/accessories do they steal from each other?

kyle is a serial clothes stealer. he’s always wearing stan’s t-shirts and sweatshirts as pjs and loungewear while simultaneously saying that stan can’t dress. mixed messages. stan doesn’t really borrow kyle’s clothes because they’re too tight on him but he’ll take shit like sunglasses and hats. those are basically just shared by default anyway.

What is their dream home? Do they buy a place together? Who plans the decorations and who does the heavy lifting?

kyle is a city boy and isn’t particular about how his house is built as long as it’s not in buttfuck nowhere. stan is more particular about the house and really wants a place with a big yard and room to move around inside. they absolutely buy a place together, but it’s after they’ve already been married a few years because i see them getting married at like 25-27 age range and god knows no one in their mid-20s can buy a house. kyle decorates because he’s really anal about that kind of shit and stan does the heavy lifting.

Who gets up the earliest? Who has the worst sleep schedule? Who is the sleepiest?

neither of them are early risers but stan naturally wakes up a little earlier because he enjoys the peace of the morning (this is of course when he’s in a better mental state. when he’s in a bad place he wakes up at like 2 pm.) kyle generally tends to have the worse sleep schedule, he often overworks himself and stan will have to drag him away from being hunched over the computer grinding at all hours of the night. because of this he rarely gets a full 8 hours and has to set a thousand alarms. that being said, stan is the sleepiest. i feel like stan can and will nap anywhere. if he’s even a little comfy, he is OUT!

Who does what chores?

they alternate on who does what depending on who has the most time in the day! the only ones that are basically solid are that stan does repairs and construction of anything and does grosser things like plumbing and clearing the sink drain because it doesn’t bother him and kyle is better about vacuuming and getting rid of all the clutter in the house

[serafiel-jacobs]

Expect the unexpected (Fanfic)

New chapter from my main series 🩷

Eugéne was reading the newspaper, she had already read the main headline and was just scrolling to see what else she could find,

… the Stalker formerly known as Parrot has finally been apprehended, as it’s known, this stalker was the partner of the great Stalker Alidoro who unfortunately was murdered by Parrot although for now, the reason is still unknown. Since he refuses to explain his motives.

He is being detained and his trial will….

The sound of the bell of her shop opening was heard, she looked up to see that Pinocchio had entered.

“Hi Eugéne! I have something to show you” Pinocchio was holding a sword in his hand, the sword he had found on the underground of Hotel Krat, he had finally found time to show it to her.

He handed her the weapon, and she analyzed it carefully, very carefully, she was silent while analyzing every detail.

“This was made in the 1500s, I can tell by how it was welded, although by those standards it’s a little different, the handle has the same materials even if it’s not a traditional handle, but the sword is made of something completely unusual for the era, or any era really, it’s made of Damascus steel to find one of these is so rare”

Eugéne was completely entranced by the weapon, “Someone made this with a lot of care, these details are so unique, it must have taken months to build this”

Pinocchio can see that Eugéne has a big smile on her face, she seems to be in love with that sword.

“Do you want to keep it here with you?” Pinocchio smiled, “I still have some of my other weapons at home and if I ever need it, I can just ask you”

Pinocchio only kept very few of the weapons he found since they were taking up too much space at home, so he sold most of them, the extra cash was good to buy a few things for himself without the need for his allowance money, although he did give the dragon sword to Eugéne as a gift, she loved it. He remembered when he was organizing what to keep and what to get rid of.

“Son, why do you have an umbrella with the rest of your weapons?” His father looked confused, even more confused when he explained how greatly it works.

“You know, you could also have used it back then to not get wet” Geppetto had seen his son come back to Hotel Krat completely covered wet due to the rain. But as we know, Pinocchio tends to not take the best care of his clothes.

As for his legion arms, Pinocchio kept all of them, eventually, he did find more calibers here and there and managed to fully upgrade them all.

“Hopefully it’s not much to ask but yeah I would love to add this to my collection” She makes weapons but also collects them, she has a special place in the back of her shop and has them displayed.

They were casually talking for a few minutes when Pinocchio noticed the newspaper, Eugéne could tell he was reading the main headline.

“It’s crazy, right? I can’t believe a serial killer is running around, and they still haven’t caught them” Eugéne knows better than to trust the Krat’s police but at least when it came to something like this they should put in the effort, the killer is leaving the bodies in exposed places and leaving messages, at least that should give them a hint, “For some reason, Krat has been feeling a little more unsafe lately”

“Well, yesterday someone tried to steal flowers from me” Pinocchio recounted what had happened.

“Seriously, trying to steal flowers? The nerve of some people” Eugéne sighed, “You know the other day I went outside my home for five minutes, just for a trip to the store and back, and on my way back someone tried grabbing my bag”

“What?!” Pinocchio couldn't believe it.

“Don’t worry, everything was fine, everything happened so fast but a stalker was walking nearby and that seemed to scare them, they stopped as soon as they saw the stalker”

“You got really lucky but be a little more careful next time” Gemini was also worried, if this happened so close to her home, he couldn’t imagine if she were to take a long walk somewhere else.

“I guess I had a little guardian Angel following me” She smiled, it made her feel safe that someone or something could be watching over her.

“What mask were they wearing?” Pinocchio is curious, he doesn’t want to be a stalker but he does like and find interesting what they do.

“It was a mastiff dog mask, or at least I think that’s what it was, I’m more of a cat person” Eugéne has more experience and knowledge when it comes to cats rather than dogs, “I saw that they were a man since he stared at me for at least a minute before leaving”

She found it a little odd but in a way, all stalkers are a little weird and she was extremely grateful for the help. She almost wanted to ask where he got that sword, Eugéne was sure that it was a sword from the east.

“I wonder if someone has a cricket mask” Gemini has never seen someone having bug masks.

“Who knows Gemini, there are so many stalkers out there, maybe one of them is a fan of crickets” Eugéne touched Gemini’s little head with her finger, giving him gentle headpats.

“Pinocchio why don’t you learn a few things from her instead of shaking me each time you get mad?”

Pinocchio smiled at Gemini quickly trying to grab him with his hand but Gemini jumped away to Eugéne’s shoulder.

“I knew you were going to do that you brat” Gemini chirped.

They were having a great time, Eugéne closed her shop for an hour each day as her break, at it was time for that, so she decided that it would be a good idea if both of them went together to have a little snack.

They saw an interesting shop that sold pastries and sweets, and each one of them ordered the same one, eclairs with orange flavor, apparently, it had a fun secret ingredient and they wanted to try it out, it seemed fun, Pinocchio ate his first, too excited to try it, as he ate it, he felt a crunchy sound, it was odd but it must be some sort of edible decoration so he swallowed it. Once he was done eating, he felt a little odd.

“Pinocchio you shouldn’t eat food so fast,” Gemini said, now back im his cage.

“No, this is different, I know how to explain but I feel weird” Pinocchio doesn’t know how to explain it, “Almost as if I have felt this way before but…”

“Mmm” Eugéne had a bad feeling about this, so she cut in half her pastry and a little rock came from inside.

A disruption crystal.

Needless to say, the three of them were completely panicking, Pinocchio had swallowed it whole and every minute he passed was vital.

Eugéne grabbed Pinocchio’s shoulders, “Pinocchio listen to me, take this”

She handed Pinocchio something that looked like a pocket watch, but it was more of a strange necklace.

“At the union, all workers are given this, I don’t work there anymore but thank God I kept mine, it can send you to a special stargazer that’s inside the premises”

It’s a stargazer that’s just outside the factory, it’s given to all workers in case of an emergency.

“Quick, go and find your father” Eugéne knows how to work in the most stressful of situations, she knows how to keep her composure, it’s a skill that takes time to develop when working on hard labor like this, even more so when in your profession mistakes can have big consequences.

Pinocchio nodded and activated the device, Eugéne had no choice but to return to her shop, she was worried sick but she needed to keep calm, she believed in Geppetto’s skills.

—-

He entered the building, he got yelled at for entering but he didn’t care, he remembered where his father’s office was but unfortunately, he wasn’t there, he was panicking even more, he was starting to feel worse now, he grabbed his bag and pulled a small bottle from the inside a Purification Ampoule, thankfully he always carries one just in case but that’s not going to stop it as long as that stone is inside his body.

After asking around frantically he knew where his father was and rushed to get there, it was a testing room, and Pinocchio opened the door with force almost breaking it.

“Father!”

“Geppetto your puppet son can’t be here” Conrad was there and he didn’t look happy, but truthfully he never looks happy unless he is taunting others.

Pinocchio rushed to his father’s side, he was talking too fast to explain but Geppetto managed to understand, his face becoming pale. He grabbed Pinocchio’s hand and dragged him out of there.

“This is an emergency, I’m borrowing one of the rooms for this!” Geppetto shouted at his coworkers and took his son to another room that’s used for testing, rooms like this have everything he needs.

He told Pinocchio to take off his shirt and to lie down on the table.

“Sorry son but this is going to hurt” Geppetto was apologetic but he couldn't sugarcoat this.

Geppetto put on some gloves and opened Pinocchio’s chest cavity, his heart was exposed as well as his other organs, Geppetto was nervous because of the unique situation his son was in. He looked at Pinocchio’s stomach, his living organ just like all the others, mixed with the mechanical parts. But God answered his prayers because the stone wasn’t inside Pinocchio’s stomach, but rather stuck on a gear next to it, he doesn’t know how that works but he isn’t going to question this good luck he had.

He grabbed some tweezers and pulled out the crystal, Pinocchio giving out a cry of pain; Geppetto set it aside somewhere else, on the other end of the room as being near it was still dangerous for Pinocchio. The thing being inside ended up disrupting the flow of some of the mechanisms and Geppetto could tell that the human part of his son’s body was trying to compensate for the problem.

Geppetto took a deep breath and repaired him just as he did when his son was in his original state, he concentrated as to not think about the organs and blood around him, as long as he didn’t touch them it should be fine, the task was hard, but he went into autopilot, not touching even an inch of his living body.

Pinocchio was quiet, trying not to cry in pain, it did hurt a lot and he started to feel exhausted, slowly the pain started to go away, he closed his eyes and ended up falling asleep.

Geppetto was already done with the inside, but he did fix some small details that had nothing to do with the issue, nothing really that important in the grand scheme of things but he is a perfectionist and his son deserves the best care. After closing Pinocchio he took a sigh of relief and left him resting for a moment.

He turned to look at the cricket “Gemini keep an eye on him will you?”

Geppetto grabbed the crystal and put it inside a container, he made his way towards the door, he was going to have to dispose of it, and he was also going to have to find the other members of the board and explain why he had to leave with his son, It would be easy if Venigni was here but he is attending to his other job matters so he isn’t at the union today.

He opened the door, looks like Geppetto didn’t have to look for any of them, as all the other members of the board and even other coworkers were just outside the door, badly acting as if they weren’t trying to overhear how he was fixing up his son.

Really? They can’t even try to be a little more discreet?

Geppetto was so done with this “Excuse me but, I’m going to have to leave work early”

“It’s okay Geppetto don’t worry about it” One of the men said, “You know if you need any help regarding your son-“

“Thank you very much but he is my son and I will treat him himself” Geppetto stared intensely at the man for a few seconds and he took the hint, all the others took the hint as well.

“Would you mind giving me that Crystal Geppetto?” The subdirector of the union said, “I need to check how that store got their hands on it, they aren’t supposed to be available for the public”

That’s right, they are used in many things related to labor, the crystals are for testing certain types of resistances and even communication systems, as well as testing puppet endurance. They are important and lately, there has been a shortage of disruption crystals.

“And it’s not harmful to humans but I’m still sure that’s a health violation”

Geppetto is glad that he can count on the subdirector for his help, their work relationship is always purely professional but the subdirector of the union is a nice man.

Even if he is nosey just like all the other ones, at least knowing these people are dying to know how his son was built and how they envy his skills makes him feel a little proud of himself, at least it distracts him from the stress for a moment.

He didn’t want to wake up Pinocchio but he had to, his son can’t be resting here. So they both went back home, and as they left they could hear the others talking.

“He can eat? How is that possible?”

“The puppet was crying too, I wonder what Geppetto did so that could happen”

“Did anyone manage to overhear what tools Geppetto was using? That could give us a hint”

“I think I heard some sort of clock? What part would need that?”

“Not sure what springs he is using but they definitely don't sound like any of the ones we use here”

“Hey, if we are all here then who is in the other testing room?”

While father and son were leaving they started hearing one of the emergency alarms, Geppetto rolled his eyes, officially that was not his problem.

——-

Pinocchio was okay, just in his bed resting, falling asleep again, first Geppetto called Eugéne to tell her that Pinocchio was okay, she was so relieved, next he called Antonia since as his mother she should know this happened.

“That was a big scare, but thankfully everything was solved without much issue,” Antonia said from the other line.

“Yes, I’m happy everything was solved” Replied Geppetto.

There was a pause, no one talking for a few seconds.

“Geppetto are you okay?”

“No”

She figured that it must be the case, Pinocchio being in danger kept happening more often and it was obvious how stressed he was while hearing him on the other line. Maybe one would assume that considering all the danger Pinocchio has gone through Geppetto would have gotten used to it by now, but that’s not the case, no one ever wants to see their child in danger.

At this point is also believable that the universe must have something against poor Pinocchio considering his bad luck.

“Antonia I know that he is going to be okay but now I feel like an even worse father, I was sending him to do all those dangerous things before and-”

“Geppetto stop it, this was an accident and no one could have seen this coming” Antonia takes a brief pause, “And as I told you before, I am your shoulder to cry on but you know what we talked about last time”

“I know, I know, the appointment is already set for the day after tomorrow, I was going to tell Pinocchio about this today but then this happened” Geppetto also wonders if he should ask the doctor for medical advice on Pinocchio's human health.

“You can still tell him, just when he wakes up” Antonia was trying to reassure him.

“Can you please come I think I need your support because honestly, I’m too stressed right now”

Before Antonia could say something Geppetto spoke up first.

Geppetto was a little embarrassed “And because… I’m bad at explaining”

Antonia smiled. “I’ll be there soon”

——

“So that’s how you got electrocuted”

They were making small talk while waiting for Pinocchio to wake up.

“But Polendina is supposed to be waterproof how did that happen?” Geppetto knows that it doesn’t make sense for that to occur.

Antonia just blushes, “Well we were sort of experimenting and-

“You know what? Never mind I don’t want to know”

“Hey you are the one that brought up this topic first by mentioning-“

The sound of Pinocchio opening the door of his room was heard, and both of them immediately stopped talking about that.

“Son, how are you feeling?” Geppetto asked sweetly.

“Better” Pinocchio said in a drowsy voice, still sleepy.

When Pinocchio noticed that his mother was there he smiled, probably thinking that she came to spoil him because he wasn’t feeling well. Not entirely untrue since she is planning to do that but first they need to have this conversation.

“Pinocchio in two days you and your father are going to see a doctor” Antonia began to speak, “Just to see how you are doing”

“Oh, okay” Pinocchio was still smiling.

“Son this is a special kind of doctor” Geppetto paused for a moment, hopefully, he could explain well this time, “You know how you have gone through a lot of hardships right?”

“Um… yes?” Pinocchio knew this was going somewhere.

“And I know that you have a hard time talking about it and prefer to write down your feelings but just this time maybe it can help you,” His father said.

Both of them explained why he was going and why his father was going as well.

Antonia smiled at Pinocchio “Dear you don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to, no one is forcing you, but it doesn’t hurt to see if it helps at least once”

Pinocchio nodded, it looked like he understood well, Geppetto was glad he asked Antonia for help. He doesn’t know what his deal with explaining is, he explains perfectly well other things like when he teaches him about math, history, literature, etc.

Pinocchio put his two index fingers together “Can we go see my pony?”

It was only 3 pm so they still had plenty of time to go and have a visit and Pinocchio should have a good reward for what he went through today.

[wendykw]

Living on my Social Security Check

On Spoutible there was a thread about "What topic would you write a spout about" that would gain epic re-spouts & praise. This was my response:

"I'd write about living on just my monthly social security check. I've learned so many ways to cut my expenses in the last several years. Even though inflation is getting better, I'm going to keep doing the money saving habits I've learned or developed."

I got a couple of responses that they'd like to see that information. I don't think I could adequately get the information in a spout. So I'm going to do some blogs on my tumblr. Most of the stuff is helpful whether you're on social security or not.

If you're not interested, that's fine. Just skip any posts I make that have #social security as a hashtag.

As a start, I'm going to share some things I've done to cut my expenses. My SS check is >$1k LESS per month than my take-home was from work, so I had to cut a lot.

I was already using the Equal Pay Plans with the Electric & Natural Gas Companies. If you aren't doing this, it's great whether you're retired or not. Based on your previous year's bills, the company sets a monthly payment for the next 11 months. The twelfth month's bill is the difference between what you used for the year and how much you paid in equal payments. I've only had the final bill to be higher than the equal payment once. I also make a bigger effort to not waste energy.

I got rid of cable. I researched antennas, streaming services, etc. I ended up getting an indoor antenna and a Tablo device. I already had an Apple TV box. The Tablo allows me to record shows from broadcast channels in my ares. I get 70 channels, but 30 of them are crap. It cost about the price of 2 months of Cable TV to buy the Tablo & an antenna in 2019. It saved me more than $110 per month & I never miss Jeopardy, the local news or Late Night with Stephen Colbert. lol I'll have more about streaming in another post.

I do less laundry. If my clothes aren't dirty or smelly. I don't wash them. I let them air out. When I worked in the ER, I obviously had to wash my uniforms after each use. I do change my underwear every day. I do 1 load of laundry every 7 to 10 days, instead of 2 loads per week. Another thing that helps with this is that I'm a widow & the bed is a king. I flipped the sheets about every 10 days, so the clean side is my side.

I keep a list of food that will need to be purchased soon on an "If It's on Sale" list. For instance, when I open the last bag of coffee, I add it to that list. Then I buy more when it's on sale, not when I'm out and have to pay full price. If it's a great sale on something that will keep in the pantry, I buy several when it's on sale. I rarely buy any food that isn't on sale, except for milk.

I changed my car insurance plan. Since I drive much less, they charge me less money.

If this gets some reads, I'll write another post in a few days. I've started a post about the planning and research I did before I retired.

[rossithepixie]

Okay under the cut is gonna be me doing some reflecting on how i’m 4 days away from my 1 year anniversary of finally escaping my abusive ex and how i’m having some feelings right now

As i said above it’s gonna be year since i got away from my ex. Which would have been impossible without outside help because i’m on disability and have limited income because of it. It had only been harder because my ex had an iron grip on my already limited finances while i lived with her since if i even tried to take back the smallest amount of financial control she’d make an already bad situation 100x worse.

It hadn’t started that way of course, stuff like that never does. But the while situation was compounded by the fact that we’d started long distance and i’d moved across the country for her. We’d rushed in all honesty because i wanted to get away from my drunk father and finally be free to come out of closet in safety. I unfortunately couldn’t have known it was going to be an out of the frying pan and into the fire situation.

I didn’t know that everything was going to be so bad and that in my search for independence and love that everything was going to go straight to hell. And don’t be mistaken, i did love her and that was part of why it took so long to admit i was being abused financially, emotionally and mentally. And this doesn’t begin to tell anyone just how bad it was. Because by end of it i felt like shell of who i used to be.

And i struggle greatly with feeling like my mid to late 20’s were wasted. Time spent being isolated by her from other people through multiple ways. Those 4 years i saw very few things and made almost no connections to anyone else. I was in a new state where I didn’t know anyone else with no money to use to go out to help me meet anyone else. I was rarely able to get new clothes because of her financial control and if i wanted clean clothes i often had to handwash mine because we didn’t have a washer or dryer and she very much prioritized buying herself clothes as well as hers getting first dibs on being washed. I had clothes that ended up unsalvageable from sitting at the bottom of a laundry basket so long. (Her clothes took up two fullsize dressers and majority of the closet)

I certainly didn’t feel comfortable meeting new people like that with clothes that were old and only as clean as i could get them by hand. And i hated going out if i did go because i’d be like that standing next to her in full new outfits and her hair and nails done. It felt humiliating. I will never forget when someone looked at us together and gave me a dirty look and expressed how she couldn’t believe someone as pretty as her was with someone like me. She didn’t defend me either. The woman who’d insulted me then began to hit on her.

And this is just a tiny tiny fraction of the things that happened while i was out there.

Getting away was hell. I’d tried at one point when my therapist finally got me to a point where i could admit i was being abused because admitting that meant accepting how bad things had gotten. I also had to wait until i could do in person therapy again because she would eaves drop on me and if she wasn’t home our other roommate who was her best friend would eavesdrop for her and tell her what i’d said in therapy and private calls.

Even once i could admit and knew i needed out it would take a full year before i could escape since when i’d reached out to my bio dad who had both the money to help and the space for me he refused to help unless i got rid of my cat who’s my ESA. My cat was my one thread of sanity through it all. And though i had a breakdown, i stayed.

It wasn’t until i told an old friend what was going on and they got a good job was i able to leave. Even once plans were set I couldn’t relax until i was actually out. Even the 2 hour bus ride to the airport I couldn’t relax, walking through a 100 degree city with a cat carrier and as many possessions as i could pack into two bags i couldn’t relax. Not because i thought my ex would come after me but because so much had been ground out of me over the course of 4 years that i didn’t dare hope i could actually be free. It actually took several weeks of being in my new apartment with my friend for it to start sinking in that i would be okay. I cried over clean laundry, i cried over being able to buy things i needed without the worry that would id be told no, i cried over being able to eat without getting yelled at. I had to relearn how to give my body rest when it needed it and that no one was gonna yell at me if I didn’t immediately take care of something. And this is all among so many other things.

With how terrible her “love” was i still struggle with the idea of being lovable for someone. I wonder if i’ll ever be truly wanted and loved in the way i’d like to be. Because it’s hard to feel like you’re worth loving after being treated so badly for so long.

I don’t know where i’m going with this. I thought i’d be having happier emotions so close to my 1 year anniversary of getting away but instead i just feel hurt and sad.