#gonna try to put the paw in a fixative or something to keep it like that
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well I was gonna ask for a second part to the catnap story where he takes in the child after the hour of joy who called him kitty, I was the suggestor lol, but it appears I was beat to it lol. I hope it's still okay if I request a second part now or just a separate part with one of theses ideas. One would come after catnap used the gas to help the child fall asleep, where after they now like the other childern in playcare become reliant on the gas because of the poppy opium used to make it. So now catnap every time they sleep has to be faced with what he did, and has to decide to put his dear little one out of their misery while they sleep or to be usual catnap and keep giving them the gas. The other idea I had was for the child to not like to go anywhere without catnap, and starts to become upset if they are left alone especially after the nightmare so catnap finds one of the small smiling critter toys like him from the playhouse, and fixes it up. to then give to the child to keep them company as they roam the factory, or when they are without their stretchy kittyy.
Better To Death
Note || aye, good to see you! Hope this was okay :)
WC || 1,018
Caretaking wasn’t certainly something CatNap had on his table, but he pulled through, innovating in ideas from Ms. Delight and find books around the ruined place on how to properly take care of you better. Safe to say, he would like to think he’s improved on doing so. Though as you were, you are a child and are quite clingy to the giant cat. He had to find numerous ways to keep you occupied and entertained, keeping you away from the mass destruction and bloody spats as much as possible.
Ever since he had remained with the tortuous knowledge of knowing that his gas causes you nightmares every time he puts you to sleep, CatNap was at a loss.
Would he continue on doing it, or just find alternatives…Or put you out of your misery permanently?
Confusion was a brand new emotion to CatNap ever since he had felt himself faced with this dilemma, he had sat on his thoughts. Contemplating what to do, but the insomniac cat had come to enjoy your company in the pit of all his loneliness all just for following his god. It was in due time that he always followed the Prototype anyway, yet his god had no care for what he did. Just get rid of the ex-employee that may come through here.
As of right now, there was nothing un-important that had gained his attention. CatNap had the fortune of only dealing with you at the moment, your joyful smile and laughter was something he had grown to see and hear. Truly you were one of the rare few that never was afraid of his appearance, instead just finding it humorous. The mind of a child is one that is interesting, sometimes he can still feel that another part of him resides deep in the pit of his chest. Pity, perhaps.
Though nowadays, however long a time has passed, he had lost track – a fortnight maybe. You had grown extremely clingy to CatNap, he needed to find out what to do about that. He understood that children can be afraid of being alone, but in your case it was different.
Finally, an idea had struck him. CatNap can use one of the miniature feral smiling critters, one that was an exact replica of him and ask for it to be attuned to your needs (surely now you don't mind being without him anywhere you go).
So he paid a visit to the Playhouse, even though it was messy and destroyed. CatNap could tell that it was the work of all the miniature smiling critters, he dwarfed them in size yet they were capable of much destruction as he was. It was for a moment, amusing to think about. Tiny beings so feral to destroy or feast upon whatever he feeds them.
He guessed they were quite useful, especially in the exact circumstance he was faced with. CatNap had huffed and roared, calling out to a specific tiny smiling critter, one who resembled himself greatly. The giant cat raised his paw and stepped around, trying to acclimate to his surroundings of the tiny spaces the CatNap was forced to go through. Only it had taken a minute, the smiling critter who was akin to his appearance finally appeared, crawling up to his giant paw.
CatNap raised his paw, the miniature CatNap remained unwavering, waiting for whatever orders the bigger cat would give him. CatNap silently instructed him to crawl to his back, to which the smaller one had obliged. Bigger Body CatNap was tumultuous in size, having to carefully step around the rubbled and ruined padding in the Playhouse. He sighed in quiet grievance as small spaces weren’t entirely easy without using his gas to squeeze through, CatNap finally had turned back around, slithering back to where you had rested.
The smaller smiling critter cat was squiggling around in excitement, though staying still so as to not annoy the bigger cat. He was quite curious to see where CatNap would take him.
Soon enough, the questions of the smaller CatNap were answered. “Oh hi, hehe! Stretchy kitty!” The little kid sitting right before CatNap, the smaller cat had easily figured out what it was that CatNap had brought him here for. Sure, the smaller smiling critters seemed to be idiotic enough, but they were smarter than they would let on. The smaller cat had scrambled down the roughened arm of the larger CatNap, who had glared at him – to say the least, the miniature CatNap had gotten the message very quickly.
“I’m really ah- happy!” You nod swiftly, having buzzed about with an energy he had not seen in a while. The smaller cat had scrambled up to you, curling up in your lap as he sat down, waiting for you to react to his presence. “OHHhhh– what are you?” You immediately had been overrun with curiosity, poking at the smaller cat. “You look so much like the big stretchy kitty.” You held out your arms, trying to enunciate the word.
A small sound escaped the smaller cat's mouth, you almost had caught onto it.
“Whoa!”
You giggle, holding up the miniature CatNap. “You are so adorable!” You seemed to be happy and content with the results, he was too. The bigger body CatNap was reassured in a sense you didn’t seem to be at all upset, more so eased and at peace. He sat down, watching you as you had gotten acquainted with your brand new companion.
CatNap had the full intent for the smaller one to keep you company for when he is not present, or with you for that matter. You always liked to bring it around with you when you wandered the factory, regardless of the idea if CatNap was there with you or not.
He found it quite refreshing compared to the usual grotesque sights he had gotten numbed to, but in the name of the Prototype. CatNap was willing to take on anything and everything, even for you.
When you're with any kitty, big or small. If he was CatNap, you are one untouchable person.
[Taglist: @everythingnicen0nnie @prince0fpaints @alocaldemisexual02 ]
#poppy playtime x reader#poppy playtime#poppy playtime chapter 3#x reader#catnap poppy playtime#catnap#child!reader#yeah we riding with platonic fluff boys
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Okay, as requested by @obeymewanderer, here are the dateables turning into cats and needing true love's kiss to turn them back!
I included Luke, but the cure for him is just a counter curse for obvious reasons. I just thought it'd be fun to write about him turning into a cat, too lol.
Anyway, thank you for the request, I'm glad you enjoyed the first part!
dateables turn into cats and need a true love's kiss from GN!MC to change back
Warnings: none!
Diavolo
You don't have to find him. There's a knock on your door and when you open it, you find Barbatos holding an adorable cat with orange-red fur and bright gold eyes. He's got mischief on his face and Barb has fatigue on his. The Young Master cannot stay like this, he has far too much paperwork to do. Your assistance is needed.
Diavolo as a cat is absolutely precious. Wants to sit in your lap all time, constantly purring at you. When he's not cuddling with you, he's getting into things. Climbing under things, climbing over things, just being a general menace. It's not malicious, he's just intensely curious. He's not used to being this small! Despite his tendency to wander off, he always comes back if you or Barbatos call his name. Keep him away from Lucifer's office, please. He's going to get right up on the desk and mess up all the papers. Gets ink on his paws and walks across some important documents.
Together with Barbatos you figure out that he accidentally tripped one of Thirteen's traps that was meant for Solomon. You're actually relieved that it resulted in something so harmless as turning him into a cat. He's a really cute cat, after all. A quick message to Thirteen reveals the cure to the curse.
Take him back to your room, hold him in your arms, and kiss his furry head. He returns to normal still in your arms and he puts his around you before you even realize what's happening. Oh, MC. What a glorious time he had as a cat! But he's eternally grateful that it was your true love's kiss that turned him back to normal. Please kiss him again.
Barbatos
You're headed to the Demon Lord's Castle to have tea with Barbatos, but Little D No 2 greets you at the door instead and he looks worried. You can tell right away that something is wrong, so you follow him to Barbatos's room where you find a black cat with bright green eyes. You are far more amused by this situation than he is, but he's staying calm.
He's a pretty chill cat. He's gonna let you do whatever you like. Pick him up, carry him around, pet him, whatever, as long as you're working quickly to find a way to fix him. Won't let you slack off on that front. If you get even a little bit distracted, he will bat at you with his paws. Only hisses at you if you ignore him. Won't let you take him out of his room, though, so you're going to have to figure out what happened on your own.
It turns out that Little D No 2 is able to fill you in on some of those details. His explanation is questionable at best, but it sounds like it was actually his fault that Barbatos is now a cat. Something to do with some spilled magical potions or something. It's not really enough for you to figure out what you need to do and you're about to resort to well known curse breakers when kitty Barbatos starts licking your hand.
You finally figure out that he's trying to tell you that you should try true love's kiss. He's sitting on his bed and you bend down to pick up one of his paws, kissing the little paw pads which are all pink. He turns back immediately, his hand in yours. He pulls you down into his lap, his own lips by your ear. Without your hard work, he would still be cursed. Let him thank you properly, MC.
Simeon
You show up at Purgatory Hall to find Luke in an absolute panic. He's holding the cutest little brown kitty you've ever seen with the brightest of blue eyes. You're gushing about how cute this cat is - he's so pretty! - while Luke is on the verge of tears. This is not a cat! This is Simeon! Okay, okay, you gotta calm Luke down. Simeon himself seems pretty chill about the whole thing. No doubt he's just amused.
He's incredibly sweet as a cat. A lot of purring, a lot of sitting in laps, a lot of head butting for pets, and a lot of slow blinks. He has one of those cat faces that makes it look like he's always smiling. Likes to rub on people's ankles, which always seems to result in them tripping over him. You're not sure how purposeful this is. Stays by your side most of the time, content to watch you try to figure out how to fix him.
You don't even have to ask what happened because Luke is telling you all about it. It's pretty predictable, Solomon tried to cook something again and Simeon made the mistake of agreeing to try some. He couldn't find a way out of it that time, so this was the result. Solomon himself had left to see if he could find a cure. So Luke was just sitting around at Purgatory Hall, freaking out, until Solomon came back.
Turns out you don't need Solomon to figure this one out. You're a sorcerer, too, and a good one. You examine the food in question and while it's hard to tell what exactly the cure for some of Solomon's food is, you decide on true love's kiss. This is based entirely on your expertise as a sorcerer. Standing in the kitchen, you pick up Simeon and kiss his fuzzy cheek. He turns back into himself, smiles at you, and kisses you back. What a sweet way to be cured. But he's going to need a little more of your time, MC.
Solomon
You show up at Purgatory Hall for your usual magic lesson only to find that your teacher is nowhere to be seen. You look around his room and research area until you find a cat with silvery fur and grey-blue eyes. You can tell just by looking at him that this is Solomon. Not only because of his coloration but the fact that he has the expression of an absolute menace while somehow still being a cat.
You're about to grab him, but he's off, running around the room, climbing on things, just generally experiencing life as a cat. You're sure he already knows what to do to fix himself, so you almost just turn around and leave him. But when you're at the door, he meows plaintively, so you sigh and turn back. He's already trying to do magic in his cat form and failing miserably. You better change him back quickly because who knows what this guy is going to get up to like this.
It doesn't take long for you to see that this was the result of an experiment. All the evidence is laid out on the table - books and various magical implements and a notebook full of Solomon's handwriting. You read through it and find that he has already figured it out. In fact, you're thinking he might have done this on purpose. He knew you were coming, after all. And he knew what the cure was, too.
You're going to need to call him over sternly. He'll come and act all sweet about it, rubbing up against you and purring. You pick him up, put him on the table in front of you, and kiss his nose. He turns back into himself, sitting on the table, legs on either side of you. He laughs. He knew you could do it, MC! He knew you would figure out the cure. You get to decide if you're angry with him for doing this on purpose or not. Either way, you won't be able to stop yourself from kissing him again.
Luke
You're sitting in your class, minding your own business, when something small comes bolting in, followed by a couple of concerned looking demon brothers. The small thing stops at your feet, clinging to them desperately. This is painful because claws. You demand to know what's going on, picking up the shivering fluff ball. It's a little cat with white-blond fur and blue eyes. It's the halo in the eyes that gives it away. This is obviously Luke. It's Beel who tells you what happened - they were working on curses and this one accidentally hit Luke.
He's absolutely freaking out. Now that he's in your arms, he's clinging to your uniform like his life depends on it. He's doing that low mewling growl as he glares at the demon brothers standing nearby. His tail is twitching fast in irritation. If anybody else tries to get close to him, he hisses.
You hold onto him until school is over and then you take him to Purgatory Hall. Once there, you explain to Simeon and Solomon what's going on. Simeon takes Luke into his care, since he's the only one who can do so without getting bitten. You and Solomon then work to find a cure for this predicament.
Solomon finds a spell he can use as a counter-curse and casts it on Luke. He turns back into himself, clearly still extremely stressed. Won't you stay for a little bit, MC? He's had a rough day. Give him a hug and promise to stay by his side for a little while as he recovers from this mortifying ordeal. At least he was turned into a cat and not a chihuahua, right?
masterlist | part 1 with the brothers | Thank you for reading!
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me nightbringer#obey me fanfiction#obey me headcanons#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me simeon#obey me solomon#obey me luke#request#misc writes
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I was wondering- with the clans more advanced nature and ability to deal with more serious conditions, how would a clan deal with a cat who had been declawed? Would they try and change some things to make things like hunting more accessible for that cat, and if so, what would they do? Would they use something like a clawed gauntlet or claw implants?
Absolutely adore your content by the way
Being declawed is a very serious disability for a Clan cat to have. "Accommodation" for a cat that is declawed is completely concerned with reducing the serious pain that this procedure would put them in; there is almost no way to help make hunting more accessible.
Just to repeat that; Declawing is a disability for a Clan cat. I'll be treating it as such.
I'm gonna be using a medical diagram below the cut to show you the problem!! So TW: DECLAWING IS A FINGER AMPUTATION, please do not hit "read more" if seeing anatomy and hearing of a cat in pain would upset you!
[ID: A diagram of cat paw anatomy, showing how a cat's claw is like a "shoe" around the end of a bone and displaying how the muscles connect.]
"Declawing" means removing a weight-bearing bone from the foot of the animal. The final digit of the finger is meant to be in-contact with the ground. For a crude analogy, imagine if someone removed a bone from your foot and made you walk on your tibia and heel-meat.
So from the VERY offset, a declawed cat in the wild would not be able to patrol very far without pain. In addition, they don't have a way to "grab" things anymore. Bringing this cat on a hunting patrol would be unhelpful at best and actively destructive at worst. They can't hunt, not enough to "pull their weight".
Gloves don't fix this, and there is no claw to put an extender on. BB!Cats have slightly beefier hand anatomy than irl cats, but they only have TWO digits. Declawing reduces them to just one.
Quick drawing;
A declawed paw is not a hand that can hold a struggling animal; they don't even have the digit to make a good pincer grasp. Hunting is so hard it's nearly impossible.
For the cat's health, so they can enjoy their Clan's territory as is their right, they might want to make "shoes," or, crude booties. Unlike humans, cats don't have a "wrist" that a glove can easily rest on, so shoes would need to be tied to the leg.
[ID: A cat wearing booties. Note the straps above the paw.]
This could be made out of leather or flax, with some sort of sole for padding. This is an accessibility device, though, so keep in mind this is something you'd need a craftsman like BB!Jessy for.
So generally, a declawed cat is the type that spends a lot of time in camp! With a little extra time, it's possible to modify the tools that Kitchen Patrol uses for this individual. A spoon's handle can be curled so it rests on the wrist. Instead of skinning an animal with claws, they could fasten a knife to the paw.
[ID: BB!Cat paws drawn with the accessibility tools mentioned above.]
So, if the cat enjoys helping out around camp, there's still ways that they can contribute if they would like to.
And lastly, Clan cats think this is the ultimate symbol of human cruelty. Sharpening one's claws (karrurrska) is EXTREMELY important to the mental health of a cat. It feels good, it exercises your whole arm to get up there and sccrrraaaatch, there's tendons, bones, and scent glands on that final digit.
Hearing that a kittypet has been declawed is evil to Clan cats. Beyond mwyrgna. The cuckoo kills its kin to get more food from its parents, the rat kills its young out of fear. What purpose could humans possibly have to mutilate a cat like this, besides delight in seeing them suffer?
It's the kind of concept that would invoke a lot of emotion out of Clan cats.
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Candling
(A short preview for the post-movie/apocalypse fix-it fic I'm working on! As a consolation to all the 'Portal Panic' readers, since I'm putting it on hiatus! Love all you guys, I hope you end up enjoying what I come up with. This is WIP, obviously. The working title is 'FLIPSIDE'.)
“Leo, I swear to Gram-Gram, if you do not sit your ass down I will sit it down for you.” Raph threatened, from his seat at Donnie’s medical table. He wasn’t wearing anything but his patchwork canvas pants, red haramaki, and tattered mask. Sitting as he was, tail curled down and off of the industrial strength steel, Raph’s slightly stooped head still almost brushed against the vaulted ceiling, which was studded with rods of sunny yellow chemical lights and inactive bulbs of emergency lighting.
The lab stretched out an impressive distance, as long as a football field and shaped like the inside of a military hangar with its peaked roof, and thickly cabled bridge cranes stretching wall to wall down the length like the ribs of some dying carcass. Electricity hummed everywhere, even within the solid rock walls to either side, which were honeycombed with outgoing connections and wrist-thick cables going to every corner and cranny of the resistance base.
Donnie himself mostly used the front half of the lab, only retreating to the further wide open shop spaces when things needed to be fabricated, or repaired in one whole mass. Right now the back half of the lab was mostly empty- outside of a rack of plant growing projects thriving quietly under the light of a massive UV lamp, and a semi submersible all terrain vehicle that had been made useless by the drying of the oceans four weeks and two battles ago.
Leo held his hands up defensively at Raph’s growling, finally taking a seat on one of the rolling chairs, his feet tapping restlessly from the back heel all the way up to the knee, in an unreadable rhythm. “Yeesh, sorry. I’m just uh.” He scratched under his mask, over one of the double red stripes lining one cheek. “Nervous? I guess?”
“We’re all nervous.” Raph grumbled, shifting to pull a knee up, and brace himself with one heavily taloned hand. “But you pacing and making a mess of Donnie’s lab ain’t gonna help matters any. You’d think one a you idiots was the one having an egg.”
Mikey was hovering peaceably over their heads, swimming as gracefully through the air as any fish through water. It wasn’t always possible for him to fly so easily; but the thought of the day ahead, and the appointment they were all meeting for, had Mikey’s thoughts so happy and light that floating was easier than not at the moment. Leo was half tempted to tie a string to his ankle, and keep him from finding and floating his way up through the exhaust pipes and to the apocalypse-torn surface.
“Raph, one more time. Please.” Mikey asked sweetly, upside down and cape dangling enough that Raph was trying to snort it away from his face in annoyance, like a bull with a fly. “Just let me touch it, I know I can get something from it. My little nibling wants to tell me, we don’t need Donnie’s nasty ole camera-”
“Shut it Mikey; and keep your glowing little paws to yourself.” Raph pushed Mikey away with a hand that engulfed his entire head, and sent him bobbing away across the lab, affront written across his upside down face.
Mikey rumbled indignantly, like a small dog with a bone- and as he did, April, Donnie, and Casey entered the lab.
“WHERE’S MY SON?” Casey demanded, stomping in and giving Mikey’s head a shove as well. It was forceful enough to send him gently spinning back towards his brothers, cape dangling and tilting slightly on his axis.
“Ya don’t know it’s gonna be a boy.” Raph protested, as Leo rolled his chair quickly out of Casey’s way. “It could be a girl! Oh. A little girl turtle…” Raph started to look dewy eyed at the thought, and Casey made a retching noise.
“Don’t be gross! A mother always knows.” She said loftily, moving between Raph’s knees to crowd into the space there. There was plenty of room- even with the egg cradled carefully in one hand, balanced between his knees like a precious jewel, Raph could have fit five more Casey’s in the space she occupied.
Casey leaned up on her top toes and Raph obligingly tilted down to meet her, pressing a toothy kiss to her mouth.
“Now let me see him before one of these morons drops him.”
“Scoff. If you’re that worried about someone dropping it you should have let me make the prosthesis like I planned-“
“You’re not putting my baby in a robot, Donnie.” Raph warned easily, as Casey bundled the egg into her arms with feral eagerness. It was about eight inches across, perfectly round, and colored a delicate creamy yellow that was the same shade as the pinstripe lines on Leo’s throat and chin.
Leo was insufferable about it, even if he was too scared to hold the egg.
#tmntau#rottmnt#rottmnt apocalypse future#my fic#WIP#Flipside#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#my writing
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♡Our Sanctuary♡
(Warnings: stalking, kidnapping, force. The rest is sfw) If there are others i missed, let me know!
♡ you just moved into a house in the woods of Appalachia for a great deal. It was slightly wore and run down but still livable. It was in the middle of the nowhere.
♡ You spent weeks fixing up the house , but all the cleaning and sitting were getting boring to you. You decided it would be good to go on the walk, I mean, a little break is great for your health.
♡ you packed some things in a backpack , and you ran through the list of what you were bringing." Sandwiches, a knife, water and bandaids." You repat softly to yourself
♡ you put on your shoes and headed out on your adventure , your hopes high. It was in the morning , and you had plenty of day left. Your backpack slung over your shoulder.
♡ as you got deeper in the woods ,you slowly started picking up on the sound of your own footsteps, a peaceful reminder you were alone. The air was warm but not too hot , the foliage was in full bloom . The various flowers and their colors were all the company you needed.
♡ after a few minutes of the sound of your feet stepping against the dirt, you began to hear something else. Another set of footfalls from behind you and heavy panting sounds, the footsteps weren't normal though ....there were four feet.
♡ before you could look behind you to at least try and see what it was a deep , hoarse voice panted out. "Ha..ha... cute..human .. welcome..to sanctuary." You could almost hear the smile on its face. A fuzzy ,paw like hand covered your mouth. Its nails dig into your face slightly as you protested by struggling
♡ as you thrash, you manage to get your mouth free for a second. You take the opportunity to scream just in case anyone is around . As its hand comes back up to your mouth, you bite down on it. The damn thing didn't even flinch, it took the opportunity to lift you under its arm and walking off with you
♡ " I find your thrashing cute but ultimately useless, bunny." it chuckles. You keep thrashing, trying to head butt the creature. Its furry body tickles your face as its tail wags behind it .
♡ after several minutes of thrashing around, you begin to tire, but your adrenaline keeps you awake. The creature takes you to what you assume is its den and lays you on a pile of furs on the ground.
♡ you could now see the creature better ,it is a tall ,lanky , masculine type of figure. It's covered in fur and has sharp canines, it's eyes are a demeaning yellow. " What... are you... a wolf?" You accidentally say the word slipping out almost naturally
♡ the creature laughs , " No .. I'm a Coyote , my name is absinthe, but you can call me mate. Now, despite what you think and all those little thoughts racing in your head, " he says, pausing for a second. He crouched down and continued,"I'm not gonna hurt cha, but I will punish you if you dare leave the den. Alright?"
♡ you instinctively nod , not knowing if arguing would get you killed . Absinthe smiles, his tail thumping on the ground. He gets so excited he practically tackles you and forces you to cuddle him.
♡ after about 30 minutes, you started to fall asleep, your adrenaline gone. You were stuck in absinthes arms ,his muzzle resting on top of your head as you both drifted off.... maybe it won't be so bad
#monsterfucker#monster lover#monster boyfriend#monster romance#yandere#werecoyote#yandere blurb#oc absinthe
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Mae's Yandere Thought of The Week 18+
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After months of hiding away from the end of the world with your neighbour - now friend- you are heartbroken when he demands a reward for the hard work of looking after you
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Pairing: Male oc x female! reader
18+
MINORS DNI
tw: female reader, betrayal, the male character is a dick, implied smut, just generally not nice stuff, discussion of sex and sa. discussion of sex work in a bad light
notes: Original drabble is here, this is just a follow-through. Also I tried to add more dialogue then i usually do
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"I'm only asking for one night." He huffed "It's not like I'm asking you to be my wife"
You stared at him in disbelief. Betrayal ate away at your skin.
"How does that make any of this better?" you snarked, eyebrows narrowing in annoyance. Of course, you had to go and trust some pathetic loser.
"C'mon! It's the least you could do. You do fuck all around here anyway. I just want a little incentive that's all" he said as if it was a normal and done thing to demand sex from your neighbour-turned-survival buddy.
"I do fuck all? I tend the garden! I sew our clothes! I cook our meals!! I fix all the shit you mess up!" you growled standing to full height from your place on your bed.
"That's not real work sweetheart. Who hunts? who goes for days trying to scavage for parts? Who puts his life on the line every single day while you sit here like Snow fucking White's cottagecore fever dream? Who has killed for you? Who protects you from all the other men who would be more than happy to tie you down and fuck you like the whore you are" he scoffed
"Don't call me that! I'm not a whore, you don't get to just call me that to belittle me! And I shouldn't have to pay you back for the things you freely do for me, if I had known you wanted something for it I would never, never have gone with you. You've been manipulating me from the start!" you shouted, trying desperately to hold back tears.
"Sweetheart, listen to me. You should've known I never would do those things for you without some sort of payment. It's the way the world worked for thousands of years. You are naive to think anything else!"
It wasn't till now that you realised that he was a lost cause, that this was something he's been waiting for since he knocked on your day those terrifying first few days. You had given him your trust, your friendship and he had thrown it all in your face.
"Don't look at me like that sweetheart. It doesn't have to be like this. You think I want you mad at me? You think I wanna have to chuck you out if you say no?"
"you wouldn't" you whispered, face twisted in fear.
"Well, I can't just keep providing for you and get nothing in return! You're chewing away at supplies sweetheart. And no matter how tasty your cooking is, I can't justify keeping you around for free"
"But.. but I tend to the garden.. I-I fix our clothes. I do do things" you were on the edge of misery, tears licking at your eyelashes waiting to be released.
"Don't be so emotional. A dog could do all that and more...at least then I could have a hunting partner," he grumbled.
"You really don't care about me...do you?" you sniffed, a few tears falling down.
"Ah! C'mon, don't cry! You know how much I hate it when you cry" he said, disgust littering his voice.
"Look, sweetheart, I'm doing you a favour. It's either me, a man you trust-" you practically growled at him "trusted, or who knows how many dirty, filthy, grubby men pawing away at you. Cause that's what's gonna happen if you say no. I'm gonna have to kick you out and your gonna have to whore yourself out to anyone with food, water or shelter who would take you. Or, worst case scenario, some sick fuck is gonna take one look at you and decide he would like to see you gagged and bound in his bed, getting fucked by him day in and day out. "
You stared at him in disgust. But he was right, the world was a dangerous place for women when it wasn't a dystopian wasteland.
"So what's it gonna be?"
#male yandere#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x female reader#female reader x yandere#post apocalyptic
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The Waves That Lap The Shore - Chapter 7
(dividers are by cafekitsune)
Chapter Notes:
Hi sorry for not updating for awhile!
I had trouble writing my original idea for this chapter and ended up changing it the other idea I had. I was also battling writers block :( and I was also dealing with some personal issues and poor mental health
BUT IM BACK NOW >:3
also sorry that this is kinda short. also warning this is kinda unhinged and goofy, I was in goofy and unhinged mood while writing this.
oh the ““TIME FOR TURBO SPEED” quote is actually based one from an episode of the show (the quote it’s based on is from “the sunfish” episode)
Chapter seven
•••
Shellington sat at his desk as he stared at his glass of water, very bored.
He flicked his paw to on side, but then something unexpected happened.
The water had moved with a flick of his paw, Shellington backed out from his desk did I do that? Shellington asked himself looking around the room.
I need to show this to Kwazii and Peso!
•••
Shellington, Peso and Kwazii sat at the table in the kitchen “I just learned that I can do this!” Shellington beamed as he levitated water out of his glass “I’ll be a sea monkey’s uncle, that is so cool!” Kwazii complimented.
“Thanks Kwazii!” Shellington chirped “Shellington found this bottle while diving, he thought you might like it!” Peso beamed, handing Kwazii the bottle “hm… I wonder what’s inside” Kwazii remarked as he pulled the cork.
“A treasure map!” Kwazii cheered, doing a little dance “let’s go find this treasure chest me hearties!” Kwazii added, backflipping out of the chair, Shellington and Peso following his lead.
Shellington, Peso and Kwazii made it down to the launch bay, “where are y’all going?” Tweak asked “we’re gonna go find some treasure!” Kwazii answered “okay have fun! Just make sure that you don’t crash the gups! Also make sure to keep your paws off the wheel, Shellington.” Tweak advised, Shellington giving her a thumbs up in response.
“Alright mateys, it says we have to follow this path!” Kwazii smiled, following the path of seaweed “are you sure this is safe? What if we get stuck?” Peso murmured nervously “we’ll be fine” Kwazii assured in a calm tone.
“Wait a minute um-“ Kwazii mumbled “shiver me whiskers! We’re stuck!” Kwazii exclaimed “see? I told you!” Peso retorted “how are we gonna get unstuck?” Kwazii asked “let’s go out there and see. Hopefully it’s an easy fix!” Shellington suggested “good idea!” Kwazii replied.
The three swam outside of the gup, “oh wow- that’s bad-“. Shellington remarked at the amount of kelp stuck, hoping to not get his tail stuck in it too. “shiver me whiskers- THIS IS BAD.” Kwazii exclaimed, Peso didn’t say anything, other then letting out a small gasp “time to sound the Octo-Alert.” Peso finally said.
•••
“Come in Peso” Captain Barnacles commanded “we’re in a bit of trouble here- We got stuck when we were trying to find a treasure chest” Peso explained “okay we’ll be on our way!” Captain Barnacles responded.
Shellington, Peso and Kwazii stood in awkward silence until Captain Barnacles and Tweak arrived, “is it broken?” Kwazii asked as Tweak took a closer look “no, just some seaweed is stuck that’s all, it’s an easy fix!” she assured, soon fixing the issue.
“Thank you!” Kwazii called, the three waving goodbye.
•••
“This is taking forever…” Kwazii grumbled “TIME FOR TURBO SPEED” Kwazii added “no Kwazii!” Shellington replied, remembering when Kwazii put the gup-c on turbo speed,
“It’s gonna be okay matey. Trust me.” Kwazii assured “just hold on tight. This is gonna get bumpy.” Kwazii warned .
•••
“Okay, we are finally here” Kwazii panted, trying to catch its breath “that was a wild ride-“ Shellington remarked “please never do that again Kwazii.” Peso said, Kwazii shook his head in response.
“Alrighty time to dig up this treasure chest!” Kwazii declared as he found the x that marked the spot, after a bit of digging Kwazii finally found it and did a little victory dance.
Kwazii proceeded to open it, Peso and Shellington stood close by, glancing over Kwazii’s shoulder’s, inside of the chest was ancient coins, small jewels, some sea glass and a ship in a bottle.
Some of the coins had tarnish, some looked newer then others. The ship in a bottle looked very old, it had to be at least fifty. The small jewels shimmered, along with the old sea glass.
Kwazii, Peso and Shellington took a few coins, some small jewels and one piece of sea glass each before burying the chest again, heading back home.
#tw gif warning#octonauts#shellington#peso x shellington#shellington x peso#the waves that lap the shore au#octonauts au#peso octonauts#kwazii#peso#shellso#shellington octonauts#kwazii cat#kwazii kitten#octonauts fic#kitty giggles
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I Apologize
So I got a heads up from a friend of mine that my Chapter 1 has a lot of errors. So I want to apologize because my computer crashed when I was uploading my game so when I reboot my computer the file got corrupted and so I had to start from scratch so before I continue on Chapter 2 I will fix Chap 1 first.
Also, of all the dialogues that can't go wrong it has to be my most favorite for Variel so I'm just gonna post the scene here for your convenience my Readers :).
Here's the part when night arrive and the convoy is setting up camp.
"No," she responds gravely before letting out a sinister chuckle. "Murder isn't something to be laughed about… Nighttime is the favorite hour for assassins and bandits to attack." You take a deep breath of relief only for it to suddenly stop as her stomach grumbles.
"Crap!" you think to yourself as your heart leaps into your throat. "Well, looks like I need to go hunting," Variel states casually while stretching her body and cracking her bones. As she twists her neck around, she adds, "Oh one more thing little mouse, can you be a dear and put my dress on my back." Before you can even begin to process what she meant, she disappears in front of you.
"Behind you little mouse," comes her disembodied voice from behind your back. You spin around yet there's still no trace of Variel anywhere until you hear her demand again: "Look down." You lower your gaze and see a large wolf staring at you with its red crimson eyes. Your heart pounds against your chest as fear takes hold.
"Please don't eat me!" you plead.
"Haha, Oh little mouse, I will not eat you." Variel chuckles. "You will not eat me?" you ask unsure. "I will not little mouse."Variel grins at you, her razor shapr canines showing. "Not yet at least." she continues and snaps her mouth at you.
You insticly take a step back away from her. "Now little mouse can you put this dress behind my back." Variel walks closer and carrying the white dress she wears earlier in her mouth.
With her mouth still open, she drops the white dress into your hands. You quickly tie it around her back, hesitating as you come close to her maw.
"So you're a wolf?" you ask tentatively, trying to make conversation.
"Yes I'm a wolf," Variel growls and licks her paw for emphasis.
Before you can take another breath she is suddenly right in front of you, looming like an ancient beast ready to strike. "Can I pet you?" you blurt out, almost certain that such a request would bring death upon yourself.
She looks down at you with a deadly glare and growls lowly, "Why?" You stammer out an explanation about how this is the first time you've seen someone shift from dragon to human to wolf and back again.
After what feels like an eternity she finally answers with a smirk on her face, "Very well but make it quick, the longer I wait the more my hunger grows."
You nervously reach out to Variel and timidly start petting her. She stays in place and allows your touch, so encouraged you press your luck further by scratching the sensitive area just behind her ears. She responds with a low rumble of pleasure as her tail begins to thump against the ground.
"Who's a good girl!" you say in an overly sweet voice.
"Watch your tongue little mouse." Variel snarls as she bares her sharp teeth.
"Meh, worth a shot." you mumble, trying to back away while keeping your eyes fixed on yours companion.
"Watch your back little mouse." Variel hisses before sprinting into the inky darkness, leaving you alone in the shadows.
So I hope you enjoyed this scenario and here's song that I use as a montage when I was writing my story again.
#Variel#Again I Apologize#I Drunk My Sorrows On Apple Juice For 3 Days And Crying#Dear Fellow Writer Friends Always Save Your Work#Spotify
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could you please write comfort for a trans male reader going through a really bad depressive episode with bo sinclair, kurt kunkle, jason voorhees, and brahms heelshire, thank you so much ziggy -🐾
Hey paw anon I'm sorry to hear you're going through this. I know how it feels to have these episodes and it sucks so much. I hope these help comfort you a little and please try to do anything no matter how small. Even if it's just moving to the couch.Reader is gn
Slashers helping their s/o with a depressive episode
Includes: Bo Sinclair, Kurt Kunkle, Jason Voorhees and Brahms Heelshire
Bo Sinclair
Bo's pretty receptive and picks up on things quickly. So he's fast to notice how you're not feeling the best. He's pretty bad with emotions so he doesn't know how best to help you.
He's gonna get you to talk about whatever's bothering you and whatever he can do to fix it he will.
He's pretty busy most days but he'll always bring you things to eat and drink and will encourage you to at least try and shower and at the very least open a window to get some fresh air.
He'll have Vincent and Lester check up on you from time to time and will try to get jonesy to stay with you.
If you want to be alone he understands that and will give you the space you need. But if you want company he'll stay as long as he can but best to wait until night for him to stay and give you cuddles.
Oh and if you start crying he'll panic a little but will wipe them away and pull you into his chest, don't you worry darling, Bo's here for you.
Kurt Kunkle
He's pretty busy with Spree. filming and streaming a lot so he might take a little to notice something is up unless you tell him. I feel like his mind just keep moving so it's hard to dwell on one thing unless it's super important to him so he's never really had a depressive episode but he'll help you the best he can.
He'll try to get you to at least move from the bed if you can and leave you easy to make food while he's out. Or if he's at home he'll leave the camera behind and give you the food himself.
If you want to be alone he understands that and will go film or do spree for awhile. But if you want his company he'll stay with you for as long as you want. He won't film this because he knows it's a very personal moment for you.
He'll freeze up if you start to cry and try to think of how to help you. Like his brain is racking thinking of anything to help you while his body is just like frozen still.
Jason Voorhees
Jason will very quickly pick up on the fact that something is wrong. He knows the signs and will kick himself because he thinks that he did something to put you in this episode.
I feel like he went into a depression after seeing his mother die but he had to keep pushing to survive. That period of time was awful for him and he want's to make sure you don't have to do that.
Will leave you food, water, tea whatever you need to feel better before he goes out. He will return every few hours to check on you and if he finds you out of bed even for something as simple as getting more water he will be so proud of you.
If you want to be left alone he'll worry a little but respect your wishes and will go back out into the woods for a few hours.
But if you want him to stay he's more than happy to stay with you for as long as you want.
If you begin to cry he'll get really sad and will wipe away the tears while pulling you into his chest.
Brahms Heelshire
When he notices the chores going undone he'll worry that you finally left, but when he finds you in bed that worry will go away but it will be replaced with another worry.
He'll be confused at to why you're so upset because he thought you were happy here. Please explain to him that people just get this way sometimes and that it's not his fault.
He'll do his best to help around the house and try to get you to eat anything.
If you want to be alone he'll whine but eventually go into the walls so he can watch you from there.
But if you want him to stay he's already cuddled up next to you.
#bo sinclair#bo sinclair x reader#bo sinclair x you#bo sinclair x y/n#kurt kunkle#kurt kunkle x y/n#kurt kunkle x you#kurt kunkle x reader#jason voorhees#jason voorhees x reader#jason vorhees x reader#brahms heelshire#brahms the boy#brahms x reader#brahms my beloved
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The Birds and the Bees Chapter Four
Warnings : This story is gonna be NSFW, MDNI.
Summary : As you adjust to your new life in Austin, you don't plan to do anything about your hot neighbor. But fate has other plans. (Basically no-outbreak AU slow burn with a lot of magical realism thrown in there).
Notes : There's no magical realism without a cat involved..
Tags : Just ask.
Chapter One ; Chapter Two ; Chapter Three
The white blinds in your white kitchen move slowly with the wind, the open door to your backyard letting the sound of the chirping birds into the house. You close your eyes, mug of coffee cradled in your hands, and sigh contently.
When you go take a shower, the water temperature is right on the first try. The feel of it on your skin, the singing of the birds-
But you didn’t open the bathroom window.
Startled for a second, you take a look at it. It is open. You must have forgotten you’d done it.
The shower is nice, relaxing. As you put on your favorite socks and your favorite pyjamas, you notice a nice flannel shirt on the floor next to your unmade bed. You take it without a second thought and put it on. It smells different. It’s not your perfume, and it’s too big for you. It’s nice.
The mirror next to your closet gives you second thoughts. They’re barely there, like a word on the tip of your tongue that just keeps escaping you. You take one more glance at yourself - the pyjamas, the socks, the flannel shirt. Shrug. Move on.
You need to go or you’ll be late for work.
When you get to kitchen to close the door, it’s already closed, and there’s a dead bird on your kitchen table. Weirdly calm, you grab it by one wing and look at it. It’s been bit by something - a cat, most likely.
You’re about to throw it in the trashcan when you wake up.
It takes you a while to come to. You’re not sure where you are, for a second. When you pull yourself together and finally get ready for work, you check your clothes twice.
There’s a cat, same as the one in your dream, sitting outside of The Coffee Bee, tail neatly tucked above the front paws, spine and head high. Waiting.
Waiting for you, it seems, because when you open the door, the cat just gets in.
Later you ask Kiki for the cat’s name. She answers :
‘We don’t have a cat, but it seems you do.’
———
The cat is watching you while you take deep breaths and try to convince yourself to get on the ladder already. You’re not exactly small, but still, the flickering lightbulb is out of reach and you’re afraid of falling. It’s not a fear of heights. You just have this thing, about falling.
‘Need a hand with that ?’ You hear, jumping slightly.
Joel Miller is leaning over your fence, and it gives you whiplash because he’s wearing the flannel shirt from your dream. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him with it. When you nod, he comes in, and just climbs up while your hands start shaking - it’s bad, this fear you have.
‘Just gimme the new one, would ya ?’ He mumbles.
While you do it, the cat stretches and just flirts with Joel. She goes all in, too, front paws reaching the highest she can get on the ladder’s side. The come the purrs, the visible belly as she rolls over, the meows …
Your really attractive neighbor is stretching his really attractive arms to fix something for you, the flannel a little to tight, his grunts a little too loud - for your sanity anyway - and the cat is trying to woo him.
You’re the spectator of a bad porn movie, you decide.
When he gets down from the ladder, he scratches her belly and for half a second you feel jealous of a cat. He turns to you, then.
‘You need anything fixin’ come get me.’
You nod.
He walks away.
He walks away and you feel dumb because you couldn’t even say thank you. It’s the arms, you decide. The arms, and the shoulders - so wide - and most of all it’s that self-assured aura he has. Not a prince charming, not a knight in thing armor. Just a guy, who saw you struggling and knew he could do that for you.
Your blood runs hotter when you realize he must have been paying real close attention to come to you unprompted like that.
———
The cold shower comes a couple of hours later.
You have a crush, you’re self-aware, it’s fine. What’s not fine is the woman he brought back to his house as you were sitting on your porch, reading - thanks to the new lightbulb he put there.
She puts a hand on his arm. Your turn the lights off and get in. The backyard is better anyway. You cross the cat as you’re about to close the door. She leaves the house.
Alone again, you guess.
———
Sarah’s at a friend’s house, and the date is going well, Joel thinks. She’s nice, pretty, and she’s not a decade younger than him - he stops his thoughts right there, so he doesn’t have to think about you (he does, he does think about you).
He’s sipping his beer when your cat gets into his lap. His date jumps in her seat.
‘I’m allergic to cats.’
She’s panicking and he goes to get the cat off him but the cat climbs him like a tree and purrs. He wants to explain it’s not his, that he doesn’t have a cat. His date doesn’t listen. She leaves.
The moment she’s gone, the cat purrs one last time and crosses the street to get back to Bee’s house.
He should be sad, but somehow, he isn’t.
-----------------------------------------------------
Taglist
@pedritobalmando @amidjarin @ajeff855 @justpedropascal @sara-alonso @sarahjkl82-blog @amidjarin @sara-alonso@justpedropasc@mrsbentallmadge @farfromjustordinary @hnt-escape @kirsteng42
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TRYING THIS AGAIN PLEASE WORK
okay so bear with me on this idea bc it’s probably not gonna make sense but i really hope it does- so Anakins been staying home more often to test it out right? And one of the things he decides he’s gonna do is finally fix the finicky lock on the door of their laundry room. It locks from both the outside and inside but sometimes it gets sticky and obiwan is getting very tired of having almost been locked in, it’s also the kind of door that shuts on it’s own bc idk weight distribution and shit- anyway Obi’s at work and he’s working on the door with Artoo hanging out beside him. He’s got a screwdriver shoved under the door to keep it open bc the stand for it came off years ago according to Obi. Hes been making good progress until something gets stuck and he has to get up and sift through his toolbox for just the right thing. While he does, Artoo decides he’s very interested in that screwdriver sticking out from under the door. Anakins jot paying any attention bc hes too focused looking until he hears something clatter and turns only to realize too late that the door is swinging shut and Artoo is scampering out of the way into the hall leaving the door to slam shut with a deafening click of the lock and Anakins heart stops. Suddenly he’s 13 all over again getting shoved into the basement closet by Palpatine bc somehow something is his fault like it always is and now hes stuck in the dark room where the light doesn’t work, screaming his throat raw as Palpatine leaves the house and who knows when he’ll be back or when he’ll let Anakin out. He doesn’t even realize that hes banging on the door and screaming or choking on his tears. Distantly in his mind he knows he could probably somehow get the door open but hes too panicked to be able to and he can barely breathe in the stuffy room. He cries so hard he exhausts himself and he curls up on the floor sobbing and whimpering as Artoo scratches on the door from outside. It’s hours later when Obiwan gets home, calling out for Anakin until he see Artoo at his feet meowing insistently until Obiwan follows with a confused expression only to be led to the laundry room where Artoo paws and meows at the door. Obiwan frowns and unlocks the door after a bit of jiggling to find his darling boy curled up with tears down his face, hair in knots from where’s he’s pulled at it, and he’s still shaking. He manages to croak out obi’s name brokenly and Obi’s on him in seconds scooping him up and rushing him upstairs, after a long while Anakin explains what happened and Obiwan has never been more angry at a door or Artoo even though it’s not the kitties fault but he’s having a moment okay? Anyway this may have been me projecting my fear onto Anakin but OH WELL-
OH MY GOD!!
Locking people in closets is definitely a punishment that people have to endure. I just finished listening to Carrie Fisher's Wishful Drinking and that was apparently a punishment her mother had to endure. Which is pretty horrific, honestly.
ANYWAY. You were right that this is definitely an angsty ask. I have a feeling that once Anakin is out of the laundry room, he wants to comfort Artoo as well and Obi-Wan is just like "uh, he's the reason you were LOCKED IN THE CLOSET" But he's trying not to say that because you're right. He knows it's not Artoo's fault really, but Artoo put his boy into that situation and that is going to take some time to forgive.
Obi-Wan coming home to that! He would be so worried when he doesn't see Anakin right away and he's trying to get the door open 😭
Oh my heart...
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something about sour grapes and paperwork.
i.
Imagine a glass of milk. It stands proud on a freshly polished table with a thin layer of froth on top; it must have just been poured. The Sun is shining through the open window behind it, and the crimson curtains cascade in a gentle breeze. You take a sip, and it tastes like every home-cooked meal that’s found its way to a plate. Don’t cry, no one’s burnt the turkey yet.
ii.
Imagine a glass of milk, poised like a dancer on the dining room table. Your mother is setting out all the forks and knives and you put down those salt and pepper shakers you’ve had all your life and the glass teeters and totters but never falls. She gives you a weird look that smells like peroxide. “Careful there, honey,” she says. “I don’t have time for laundry tonight.”
iii.
You wake up before the birds and pour yourself a glass of milk. You never really liked milk, but you’ve always kept a gallon of it in your fridge for safe-keeping. Your shaky hands splash a little on the countertop, and you wipe it up with some paper towel before God sees it. It’s a close call, but you don’t hear a storm brewing, so you tell yourself it’s fine.
iv.
You have a little fishie you won from the fairground swimming in a bowl on the Lazy Susan. You haven’t picked out a name for him yet, but you’re leaning towards Milk. Your best friend keeps saying Milk’s gonna die soon but you know better. Milk’s gonna be with you forever. You watch him at mealtimes, and feed him his little pinches of fish food every night. Your mom says he kind of looks like you. You find him floating upside down in his tank a couple days later and you don’t look in the mirror anymore.
v.
Imagine a glass of milk, and it’s suppertime. You must have nudged the glass after a particularly good joke, because it tumbles gracelessly to the unflinching wood beneath it and the glass shatters in spider webs, its shards laying limp like corpses as the milk pools beneath them. You’re halfway through drawing the chalk outline around it when you realize everyone’s attention has snapped to you with their eyes of angels, and for a moment you think you understand how Eve felt. You’re wrong, of course— at least Eve had the decency to know how she failed us.
vi.
Imagine two glasses of milk, and one falls. Sorry for jumping straight to the chase but it’s dripping onto the tile and I thought you’d quite like to know about it. You don’t react fast enough, and your father is picking up the other glass and throwing it to the ground and no one’s saying anything and raindrops are coming in through the open window. Hopefully, the downpour will wash all this away.
vii.
The kitchen is flooding. You finally shut that damn window, but the rainwater flowed all the way to the carpet in the living room, and now the whole house reeks of mildew. Your father’s out in the storm trying to smoke his cigarette, but the whole pack is soggy and none of them will light. You sweep the fragments of glass off the floor with a broom but it gets all wet and you end up tossing it out. You have to clean the rest up with your bare hands.
viii.
You wake to sheets soaked with your own blood. There’s a sliver of glass in your thumb and it’s been leaking all night like the faucet in your bathroom you’re too scared to ask for help fixing. You pull it out with your teeth and lap at the wound like an injured puppy with a thorn in its paw; it tastes like Milk One, Milk Prime, like all the meals you don’t eat anymore, and you lick your skin to the bone.
ix.
Imagine ten glasses of milk, all balanced precariously on your kitchen counter. They giggle like the fairies on mushrooms no one believed you about and they tip to one side or the other, taunting you. As you reach out to pull them away from the edge, they all dive off.
x.
Imagine a thousand glasses of milk in pieces on the ground, each step you take accompanied by the crunches and rasps of the fallen. You start shoveling Milk Glass Mountain into the trash, but the shards slice through the bag and only end up accumulating at the bottom of the bin. Daddy’s damp cigarettes are out on the porch, but your gash-laden fingers won’t close around them, all ruined flesh and strawberry cream. You take your hands and hurl them over the railing of the deck and head back inside. Those damn things never did you much good anyway.
xi.
Your eyes land on a mug in the cabinet. Cobwebs coat the inside of it, and you can’t grab the handle anymore. You slam the cabinet door shut and curl in a ball on the floor.
xii.
You’re thirsty. The stumps where your hands should be are shaking and your throat burns something fierce. You kneel before a bowl like a dog on your knees and sup milk from it until you’re tired and keep going anyway. It seems awful rude to crawl away before you’ve drunk it all down; whatever god or king or god-king put it here for you had been so generous. He only wants what’s best for you, honey.
xiii.
Imagine a glass of milk. It wobbles weakly on a table warped with rot, and soap suds run down from the rim to mingle with the froth— don’t blame me, you’ve run out of glasses. The window behind it is barred shut with metal cross beams, and the burgundy curtains are rags on the cracked tile. You take a sip, and it’s so sour that you vomit back into the cup. You’re afraid that if you cry, milk might come out of your tear ducts. You don’t cry.
xiv.
Imagine a glass of blood. You’re not sure if it’s yours or your father’s. You’re not sure if there’s a difference. You don’t even flinch by now when it crashes to the ground, and when you pick the shavings up off the floor, milk is pouring out of your severed skin.
xv.
If a glass of milk falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it still spill?
xvi.
If a glass of milk falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, why are you still bleeding?
xvii.
Imagine nothing. You stretch your arms as far as they will reach, and they return to you as pitiful hounds, the only evidence of their hunt the sickly sweet stench of surrendered hope between their teeth. You are dry and whole again, and gravity has let you off its leash. You then tear away the blackout curtains from the window to join the moldy tatters on the tile and pry off your barricades with a crowbar. The milk-white moon has your father’s face, and it is headed straight for you.
xviii.
Imagine a hundred thousand broken glasses of milk piling up in your trash can, and everywhere you go all you smell is iron, and everyone around you is gorging on cheese and ice cream and butter and you think there’s something wrong with you. You’re in the bathroom and you’re clawing open your stomach and milk’s gushing out like a fountain, your body finally rejecting it like a transplant gone wrong. You don’t know what happens after you rip out your eyes, all you know is that you feel hollow.
xix.
The morning after the end of the world, you find the house empty. You peer out the windows, and no one walks along the streets. You grab the empty carton of milk from the fridge and make your way to the cemetery. You missed everyone’s funeral, but you’re not too shaken up about it. At least you won’t have to send any consolation cards. You pause at the grave of your father and bury the carton with him, and the missing child on the back resembles the reflection you haven’t looked at in a while. Your fist clenches around the ghost of something that never was, and clouds swirl overhead. It’s time to head home.
xx.
There is a vacant spot in your fridge. The next time you go to the store, you buy orange juice instead.
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As a longfic writer (obligatory sidebar here to say Mind Over Matter is one of the greatest things I've ever read), what's your tagging system? Do you tag for the whole fic at once, even if you haven't put up the corresponding chapters yet, or do you add new tags with each update? I'm working up to posting my first longfic, and I'm looking for a little guidance, haha. Thanks for your time!
As one-or-two time long fic writer and many-times longfic reader, my advice is to tag the most important elements right out of the gate, whether they're in chapter 1 or not. So major relationships, characters with the strongest presence, and any content warnings.* Anything that if you told someone that X is in this fic it'd be an immediate disinterest for them. This is gonna be your main ships, your genre (au, fix-it, whump, etc), stuff like animal harm or violence, your characters that show up for more than two scenes before disappearing.
Speaking of characters that show up for only two scenes, don't feel like you have to tag those. (Same goes for ships.) That might be someone's favorite character and if they search by that character tag they're gonna want more than 200/20k words to be about their character. That said, this is a great place to add tags later on! in MoM for example, I didn't add Matthews as a tag until he showed up again later in the story. I knew from the jump that he was going to come back and play a big role, but I left him out of the tags because I didn't want to people on a hook for years about when the heck their boy was gonna show up. By the time that fic showed up in the Matthews tag, their boy was up and ready to be relevant!
Now the big exception to all of that is characters and ships that your fandom might consider infamous or deserving of warning. For example, in Dungeons & Daddies the character Willy Stampler should probably be tagged in any fic he makes even a speaking cameo in on a phone call because he's one of the most toxic people ever conceived in fiction. "Willy Stampler is his own warning" is a common phrase. ...I should tag him in Monkey's Paw for that reason, now that I think about it.
tl;dr I lean on the tag-light side of things. Every Red and Blue shows up in Mind Over Matter, but the only ones I tagged were Wash and Church; Matthews got added later.
but anyway I am only one perspective! thank you for valuing my view on it! (makes me feel like I'm doing something right at least haha)
*There is a case to add content warnings as you go, if you're trying to keep surprises saved for later. If you do this, make it clear as fast as you can what the tone of your fic is, at least, so readers can know what to expect. Like if something is a coffee shop au for 30 chapters and then someone gets their head cut off, I know I'd be an unhappy camper.
(also thank you for your kind words ಥvಥ)
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Our house. Its flippin’ terrible. Like we’re definitely getting evicted if the landlord gets wind of it. Which is always possible, I mean, he’s the fucking next door neighbor and also he’s taken it upon himself to change our air filter personally. So he comes in through the basement every month or two.
My once monster of an aloe I was so proud of and loved giving away it’s babies has shriveled to a husk because my sister refuses to let me open a corner of the curtain to give it some fucking sunshine because we can’t let the landlord see inside. Not even a corner of the curtain. The plant is directly against the window but NO. Do you know how much care an aloe needs? Hardly any. My sister had an aloe she forgot about for a year on a shelf above her living room and that fucker THRIVED. She bought me a box of tiny succulents that all starved because I literally have no windows I’m allowed to uncover in this house.
My tolerance for the bullshit has broken, like. I used to have full blown panic attacks after my bar gradually got full but I can’t bring myself to care anymore. Because it never changes.
Mom and I weren’t the best housekeepers ourselves, but after a week or two of letting things go, we’d get a bug up our butt and clean. After a week or two. Of two people. It worked for us.
My sister and her family are hoarder bad. No one can keep up with that. No amount of come-to-jesus talks helped. Charts don’t help. Lists don’t help. Everyone is very anti-authority here. Small simple shit like “put ALL the groceries away” or “dont leave trash in the sink” goes ignored.
That shit gets mentally and physically tiring and I don’t have the wherewithal to bother caring anymore. I physically don’t have the energy to bend down and pick up every piece of trash I pass by. Maybe if OTHER people did their part, there might be a point in trying, but they do not. I used to be the panic-cleaner. I’d get exclamations of “Holy shit!!” every time someone came down to see the progress I’d done. It was lovely. But that was back when I wasn’t as chronically ill.
It takes everything I have just to keep peoples paws off my immediate corner, which I only have so much control over. They still leave drinks, food, toys, mess on my table I use my laptop and tablet on and it’s a pain in the FUCKING ass to MOVE the table so I can get up, because they let shit accumulate in the living room so I have no choice but to heft my sore joints over the chair arms to wriggle out. I take out two handfuls of trash every time I exit my chair. Only a quarter of it is mine.
Shit is always falling apart and we have to just. Tolerate it. Because we can’t let anyone in. Because even if it’s not the LANDLORD, my sister is like “They’re gonna call CPS on us and take my child” Like maybe that would be a good fucking incentive to not like it be bad then???
Like the smoke that came from the sink the other day. Apparently there’s just a clog or something and sewer gasses erupted into the house. Not dangerous, so it’s nothing we can do.
But not we don’t get any water from our kitchen sink. And no one plans on doing anything to fix it so I guess we just won’t have water there.
We went like 2 years without AC. the house got SUPER BAD. Fleas, shit all over the house, (Which I can usually say NEVER fucking happens because the litterboxes may get bad, but NEVER. NEVER that bad. I do not let piss and shit just accumulate, okay? But that year? That year I had to go take care of grandma and I abandoned the house and my cats.
Pantera didn’t die until after we got AC but I’m still convinced the stress of that whole situation is what did him in. My cat fucking died.
Then there was the year or two we didn’t have HEAT. Felt like a fucking refugee trying to stay warm in a dilapidated building. 3 pairs of socks at a time, everyone camping out in one room. Showers at another house. It’s awful.
I don’t know why but today we don’t have electricity upstairs. If my fan doesn’t work by tonight, I’m gonna have to sleep downstairs. The upstairs is always hot. Like it smells like hot wood all the time because so much heat rises. Even if we try closing the downstairs vent to push the AC up.
Usually mom is a crying puddle in the bed. For months at a time. I legit tried to get her into those electric shock therapy clinics because it was so fucking bad.
Somehow though, she’s been active and functional. I don’t know how she does it because even she says there’s no hope. (I once picked up a teapot, because I have a collection packed away and by picking up a new one she exclaimed that “I had hope” and it broke my fucking heart because. yeah. I was thinking this would go so well with the theme when I get to see them again, I just wasn’t thinking about WHEN I’d get to see my teapots again...)
But mom has been working to get the house right. I think it started at being upset over us having to get a storage unit, throwing random shit in it... HARDLY utilizing it right and shelling out $60 a month for nothing useful. She started by sorting out our attic/ storage closet. Then she did the other big closet. It was all background stuff that didn’t affect the house in any way, really, except by shifting around the christmas stuff back into submission.
But lately she started in on DISHES. Like holy shit, a main priority.
Unfortunately she picked that right before we lost our kitchen sink.
But apparently that didn’t stop her. Because she’s been carrying literal buckets of hot water down from the tub to do them
Some of this shit has been sitting there for years. There’s black mold. We should honestly just... throw this shit away, it’s so horrific. But she’s trying to clean them. I’m very proud of her but at the same time I don’t want to go anywhere near it because NOTHING EVER CHANGES we’ll be right back to hiding bins of dirty dishes under the kitchen tables and shit. I mean I’m trying to do the things she asks me to, but with my sister still living here...... ( ⁍᷄⌢̻⁍᷅ )
Like don’t tease me with hope plz. just go.
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@familylightfox asked:
🎵 🎵 Julius
🎵Cuff
🎵 of your choice.
[SEND “🎵“ AND I’LL REPLY WITH A SONG THAT’S RELATED TO MY MUSE AND I’LL EXPLAIN WHY]
The Living Tombstone’s remix of ‘Gypsy Bard’ feels like a song that relates back to Julius, not gonna lie. It’s equal parts upbeat and downtrodden.
‘We won’t let them break our spirits,/as we sing our silly song.’ For me, I view Julius as actually having had a backstory very close to his regular Movie counterpart- with the only huge difference being that he knew Stone early on.... And he didn’t solve his problems with violence. He did, of course, create machines to aid him- but they were mostly shields/deterrents to keep himself from being hurt (deterrents were also made to just... Deter, not injure). He never let his past beat him into the darkness, and instead keeps trying to be happy and jovial in an open denial of going down some twisted path.
‘So please children stop your crying/and just sing along with me!’ He is a bleeding heart. Always has been, always will be.- He can’t stand to see others downtrodden either, so he does his best to lift their spirits... Even if only a little. He knows he can’t fix the whole world, but that won’t stop him from trying.
Second up is gonna be ‘Battlefield’ by SVRCINA. This one is a little more for the music itself as opposed to the lyrics, but man does it hit for him. The way the song goes, it reminds me of how Julius doesn’t want to fight-- but he will if he’s pushed into a corner.
‘Our tainted history/is playing on repeat,/but we could change it/if we stand up strong and take the lead.’ Julius wants to make a better Earth- a better universe. He knows about mankind’s history, and he’s met Devil. He knows there’s evil in any intelligent race, but he wants to help suppress it. It’s a lofty ideal that has no way to ever come true, but that won’t stop him from doing everything in his power to reach it.
‘I will be your sword and shield,/your camouflage,/and you will be mine.’ When he does decide to fight, he doesn’t go into it lightly. He’ll leave his enemies alive, yes, but they won’t like living for a while afterwards.-- And if it came down to it, yes, he would kill to protect those he loves... He doesn’t like to think about this, but it has been something he’s been ready to do ever since he had to beat Devil. If his original plan hadn’t worked... The second...
Was going to be killing the hedgehog.
Believe it or not, but the song ‘Human’ by Krewella is pretty relatable to Cuffs. He’s been on his own for years.- He lost his entire tribe, the sole survivor... And yet he still puts on a 24/7 tough guy act.
‘The weight of the world is holding me down/where are you now?’ He has to hold the responsibility of protecting the Master Emerald- the very item he believes created the universe- in his own paws, and there’s no one he can share this burden with. ‘Every breath feels like/I’m gonna drown...’
‘Singing this song/but I can’t find the words...’ This isn’t something Cuffs is able to put into perspective- he doesn’t even know how to communicate it. It’s stuffed so far, so deep down, beneath layers upon layers of ‘I can take care of myself’ and ‘I’m a warrior, not a whiner’... But when he sleeps at night, there are times... Where he starts crying. Cuffs never thought he’d have to face this alone. He thought his tribe would always be there- that they’d all defend the Master Emerald, together.
.... But now...
.... It’s just him...
In a village of skeletons- in a land of shadows.
[NO ICON CURRENTLY AVAILABLE - Willow Fae Feather]
Willow really fits the song ‘Hiding In The Blue’ by TheFatRat and RIELL. While she was by no means a soldier, she still watched as echidnas tore her entire tribe apart before she was tossed through a ring- never to see home whole again.
‘I’m hiding in the blue~/safe between the clouds.’ She... Really doesn’t leave her comfort zone. Ever. In fact, she’s usually either on her island/in her forge, or mining somewhere she figures is ‘safe’. Though her definition of ‘safe’ has slowly warped over the years...
‘Was a soldier in the legions/fought against the demons/fought against the monsters/made of gold.’ As said above, Willow was never a soldier... But she’s had to defend her territory so many times over the years, that she’s slowly amassed combat experience- especially in regards to her crossbow. Willow’s best at aerial combat and knows how to navigate her island without taking damage (it’s full of traps)... And since she’s an excellent blacksmith, she has numerous one-time-use weapons for any would-be attackers/surprise fights.
#[scientific answers: asks]#[antis and good guys: julius]#[combat fixes all: cuffs]#[feathery ringmaker: willow]#familylightfox#[-*well time to work on icons for the feathery miss!*-]#[-*thank ye for the @sks!*-]#long post
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I pawed through some of my old writing - like 20 years ago old - and let me tell you, it’s not great. But it’s evidence. It’s hard copy evidence that I am better now than I was. That I’ve learned something. Lots of things, really. It’s evidence that at least 20 years ago, I put my fingers to a keyboard and said “I’m gonna create something.” And then I did.
And maybe it wasn’t award winning fiction, and maybe I never finished most of it, and maybe I never even showed anyone most of it, but it doesn’t make a difference. I put in the practice. I created stuff just to see if I could. I found documents that were just me describing things to practice descriptions. I found several that were only a few paragraphs long, a passing thought. A wisp of daydream. A frustration.
A friend of mine showed me her old fanfic account today, and thought that I was laughing at her when I was gleefully pawing through it. And maybe a little I was; but not because she had written things, only because she handed me the link and then made the pikachu face when I actually looked at it. She started going through the motions of telling me that it was terrible, that she had no idea what she’d been thinking, that some of it was weird, and I had to stop her.
Because here’s the thing: I don’t care!! If you are young, or you were young, and you are creating things you’ll look back on in 10, 20, 30 years, I hope that you are kind to yourself. So many people get hung up on the fear of starting something new, of starting and not being instantly perfect, that they never stand a chance at all of being even good. You cannot get better at something you never do, something you never practice. You can think about stuff all you want, but you get better by just doing it.
And yes, you’re going to do it poorly at first, and looking back, you’re almost certainly going to be tempted to say “what was I thinking” too, but... what you were thinking was that you loved something enough to try to bring it to life, to put it somewhere it would survive you. If it was fanfiction, you loved it enough to try to make more of it, or to fix it, or to connect to other people through it; you loved it enough to explore it. If it’s original, you took something that was inside of you and put it outside of you, and that’s so incredibly difficult that to attempt it at all is worthy of appreciation.
What I’m saying is that there are a lot of people afraid to even start writing, and if you are writing now, or if you started when you were young, or if you are starting now when you are not, that’s bravery. You are brave, and you were brave, and if you’re looking back and saying “I was worse at this” then face the other direction for a hot second and think “I’ve become better” and maybe take a moment to appreciate the younger you for putting in that effort for you. Younger you had to go through a lot of work to get you where you are now, and you should be so proud of them. I certainly am. You’ve done and are doing amazing.
All that’s left is to keep going.
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