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multifandom-nerds-blog · 1 month

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I'm rewatching Trollhunters in the background right now, and the disfunctional mother son relationship between Jim and his mom is making me crazy.

Like, he's taking care of the household and his mother for years as a teenager and before probably. She is sometimes giving half hearted comments about him not having to do so much, but very obviously she's not gonna make him stop do all the cooking and cleaning. Y'know. Both because they've been living like this for years, and because it's obviously also very comfortable to have someone do all the house work.

Then Strickler comes into the picture, and if we ignore the whole Troll and changeling side of the story, Barabara gets very offended cause Jim doesn't want her to meet him privately. Again, ignoring the whole magic and trolls stuff, STRICKLER IS JIMS TEACHER. If Jim hadn't figured out that Strickler was a changeling he probably wouldn't have a problem with it, but the fact that he does, no matter the reason, should be enough for Barbara to put a stop to the relationship. Her child is clearly uncomfortable with her seeing/dating that guy, for whatever reason, and even clearly vocalized it. But she doesn't care about, or rather, she tells Jim that she "wouldn't expect something like that" from him. Obviously not, cause she may see him like her child/teenager he is, BUT DOESN'T TREAT HIM LIKE ONE.

And then Jim, unknowingly to Barbara, becomes the Trollhunter, and his behavior changes. He's suddenly doing reckless stuff, sneaking out, getting bruises, landing in detention and even at the police station, barely avoiding a police report. What does she do? Asking him what's going on? If everything's alright at school? If he has any other problems? Maybe trying to lower his workload around the house, which again, he's doing most of that as a teenager and longer probably.

Nah. She doesn't do anything until he lands in the hospital. Except for again, dismissing him rather negatively at the one topic he's openly expressing any negative opinions about (Strickler). And after he lands in the hospital she now starts not asking questions, but demanding answers. Demanding answers from a teenager in a difficult situation who is also now acting much more like a teenager than he ever did before, from her point of view at least. Except she obviously doesn't know how to deal with a teenager, cause she has never had to raise or live with a teenager. She instead lived with a child pretending to be an adult for years, that was partly much more of an adult than she was, who did way to much work even before Jim became the Trollhunter. So she throws punishments at him and grounds him, but does he listen?

No. Cause why should he? Not only is he dealing with things much more important than being grounded, yknow, saving the world, he's trying to protect her from the sheer knowledge of the supernatural and physically protecting her from getting harmed. And again, for the majority of the time since his dad left he pretended to be an adult. He was and is the main adult in the household, dealing with important things she doesn't even know about.

The only one's treating Jim like a teenager are teachers, other children and Blinky and Aaargh sort of when they're not in the middle of Troll business. Strickler, in the first episodes where Jim doesn't know about his true identity, is much more of a parental figure to Jim (also after his redemption later on tbh) than his mother.

In summary: Barbara is treating her son like an adult, almost like a partner, instead of a child/teenager. And when that isn't possible anymore she doesn't know how to properly treat him. She also doesn't really care that her son is uncomfortable with her being around Strickler, or Strickler in general. And it takes Blinky telling her (when Jim is 16) that Jim might be affected by his father leaving when he was five years old.

Jim meanwhile is treating his mother more like a child/teenager instead of the adult and MOTHER that she is. Seeing her as his responsibility. Cooking for her. Cleaning for her. Telling her to rest and take breaks.

They obviously love each other other. And their relationship might not be toxic, but it's very much disfunctional. In a way that is mostly negative for Jim.

#toa #toa trollhunters #trollhunters #jim lake jr #jim lake junior #barbara lake #walter strickler #trollhunters strickler #tales of arcadia #blinky #aarghhh #trollhunters blinky #Barabara; just because Steves mother has a relationship with one of his teachers and it working out between him and her son #Doesn't mean it's gonna work out for you #If you're a parent and your child is uncomfortable with a partner of yours #YOU BREAK IT UP #Especially if your child is still living with you #Seriously #Okay I know trainer Lawrence probably only became Steves stepdad later in the series #And they also had to work some things out first #But at least they didn't try to kill each other and trainer Lawrence was actively trying to be a good parent/friend to steve #And don't get me started on “A vespa costs so much”: YOU'RE A DOCTOR #Don't know much about new jersey or wherever the show takes place but doctors earn good money almost everywhere #Especially with how much nightshifts and over time hours she has #Not being sure about your 16 year old driving I understand #But don't try to excuse it with money when you're obviously not poor and he's been wanting it for so long that you could've easily saved up #The money till his 16th birthday #Okay I ranted about this long enough #Also the fandom is dead so nobody will read this probably #Byeee

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 month

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WIBTA for using my cousin's weed habit to convince my dad to let me go live on my own, making him pay higher rent? Hi so this is kind of a silly idea i had but wanted to see if it would be assholeish. Also it is not the only way out or anything, just a bit of a thought experiment. So i (24x) moved from mexico to the usa for grad school (2 years). For this first year i've been living with my cousin A (23F), A's college friend B (23F) and A's childhood/family friend, C (25F). Now they're lovely and really fun roommates, but honestly not very good to live with on an everyday basis. B and A are really messy (leave everything lying around - dirty plates, clothes, trash, you name it), and none of them are very clean. Other than them occasionally wiping the kitchen counters, emptying the dishwasher, or taking out the trash, i've done all the cleaning so far on my own (kitchen, 2 bathrooms, living room, hallways). I've made my frustration pretty clear (and even gone on strike lol, but i can't deal w a dirty toilet for more then 2 weeks), but nothing changes!! At this point i'm really fed up, and want to move elsewhere next year, preferably to live on my own. The problem is that we live in san francisco, and rent is... well, it's pretty expensive. Sorry californians you really got it rough. However, i've looked into the university's accommodation for grad students and it could be an option. I would be paying about $250 per month more than right now, but i would save on utilities (about $40 per month). The thing is, my dad is the one whose been paying for my living expenses ever since i went back to school. We used to have a rocky relationship (he was really frustrated with me not meeting his expectations; coming out as a homo, being a leftist, doing some weed as a teen...) and i think he sees this as 'making it up to me'. I really appreciate the way he has been trying to fix out relationship, and i'm obviously extremely thankful for the economic support. So i feel really guilty asking for more than he is giving me. Here is where my plan comes in -- my dad haaates drugs, and my cousin A has a pretty intense weed habit. WIBTA to complain about it ('waa the house smells like weed, theyre blazing it all day every day') to my dad, in order to convince him that me moving to the grad dorms is a good idea? EXTRA INFO: Would my cousin get in trouble? - not really i think. Its legal, and her parents are aware of her indulgences (i dont think they're happy with the amount she smokes, but they're pretty chill). I worry that if i complain to my dad, he would tell his sister (A's mom) and make it a huge deal, but as I said A's parents are pretty tolerant, and know of her 'addiction' anyway. Don't i have any money of my own? - not anymore lol, at least not enough to pay californian rent. I'm getting a job over the summer, but with visa restrictions (half time) i doubt i would make enough to make a difference. Working during term time is not possible for me (personal limitations). Also the increase in price would not bleed my dad dry or anything. Can't i just sort it out w my roommates? - they've proven to be admirably immovable objects on the cleaning issue. I mean, i can tough ot out, but at this point it's also the spirit of the thing that is pissing me off so much, rather than the cleaning itself. Do they just dont care?? T-T Do i have to 'manipulate' my dad? - um idk. It's definitely the easy (perhaps cowardly) way, but that's why i want to see if its too assholeish. Thanks for reading! Lay it on me

#aita #am i the asshole

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intimidating-fettuccine · 8 months

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Zalgo, Slenderman, and Laughing jack paying their S/O's grave a visit?

Since you requested multiple, I'm just gonna go with headcanons~

Laughing Jack can be found by clicking here

Slender:

It's mornings like this when he wakes up especially early. Everyone else in the mansion is fast asleep, and he's the only one moving around. He'll make himself a cup of coffee, and out of habit and his longing for you, he'll prepare your favorite morning drink too. He'll walk out back to his garden, pick a few of your favorite flowers, and make the walk up to the cemetery behind the mansion. Slender keeps a chair out there by your grave, and he'll place your flowers and your drink before your tombstone (cleaning off the area first, of course), and he'll take a seat, drinking his coffee as he sits with you. Some mornings he'll bring a book with him, and he'll sit there, reading to you as the time passes. He often also talks to you about what's been going on in the mansion, how they all miss you, or any progress that they've been making in their lives. He always talks about them with such pride, but there's a level of pain in his voice that is easily noticeable, as he wishes he was telling you all of that in person. Slender doesn't often get emotional, however... One of the main reasons why he always comes to visit you when nobody else is out and about is because he doesn't want them to see him cry, or hear him weep for you as he hovers over your grave. Hear his apologies, about how he should've been able to help you, to protect you, to save you, but he couldn't. Those mornings like today, where he sits beside you alone, are the only times he allows the sadness he has inside of him to come rolling out when he knows that nobody will see him or hear him. You've always been the only person he allowed to see him like this, and he plans to keep it that way. He tries his best to be brave and put together in front of the others, even if they can see through him and tell it's a facade. If he cracks and crumbles, he fears they will as well, so he tries to be strong. For your sake and theirs.

Zalgo:

Zalgo hasn't been the same since your passing, and everyone can see that. He's been quieter, less talkative, less firm with his employees. Zalgo was always one for a rigid schedule, always spending as much time as possible in his office trying to manage running the Underworld and running a business on the side, but now, he's carved out time. Time for you. He'd always made time for you before, but as he walks to your grave again this morning (resting in a burial vault inside his treasured castle's garden), he wishes that he'd been able to make more for you. He never pictured you dying so early, and so he'd always made the excuse that he would have plenty more chances to be with you. If only he'd known. Because of that, Zalgo has mandatory time he spends beside your resting place, every single morning and every single night, and he'll sit beside you, talking to you about himself, the Underworld, or his business. He always makes sure your burial vault is clean, and he'll even do it himself, something his maid staff tried to handle themselves, but he'd refused it, saying it was his job as your partner to take care of you, even in death. He'll cry for you, out there, with his back turned to the castle and his hands resting upon your vault, as he cries. He never weeps aloud out there, preferring to save that for your previously shared bedroom, as he doesn't wish to make his staff worry over him too much. So, he cries, silently and steadily, as he tells you how much he misses you, how he feels so lost without you like he's trapped in the dark with no escape in sight. You were the only light he'd ever had in his life, and he feels like a fool to have let you be extinguished so early. He wishes he could have given you so much more in life, but as he was unable to, he does his best to continue providing for you in death. It's the least he could do for the only person to ever show him love.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #slenderman #slenderman headcanon #slenderman headcanons #slenderman x reader #zalgo #zalgo headcanons #zalgo headcanon #zalgo x reader

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y-rhywbeth2 · 5 months

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I think Bhaal might actually be testing Durge in some fashion, through the first two acts.

It was something I remembered Sceleritas saying (and have since forgotten again), as well as the fact that he won't tell you about your past, even though it could possibly be helpful in getting Durge to play along?

The memory loss is due to brain damage not magical interference, which your butler will confirm, but at the same time it seems that Bhaal doesn't want Durge to remember what they are or their purpose until it's relevant: The weird thing there is that... divine magic probably can fix that? Durge gets their memories back via dream vision from daddy dearest - those that Bhaal deems important, at least (what you are, who you serve, your time and duties in the temple, "you're supposed to kill your sister-niece"). I assume Bhaal can restore the damage and is choosing not to.

Even Chosen Durge, who been Daddy's Little Villain and done everything ever asked of them is told they've always needed their butler "assisting" them to make sure they follow Bhaal. I'm not even sure that's entirely "Durge tried to resist once" (although that could be part of it), and I'm leaving off the shipping goggles; despite having them wrapped around his little finger, it seems Bhaal doesn't trust Durge an inch.

What was this? An experiment to see how strong his control over them was? His children having minds of their own was what fucked him over last time, so he compensated by making sure that Durge was under his thumb early (one child with his full attention instead of hundreds; Sceleritas shadowing them through their lives, "arranging" accidents like he does with Alfira; being possessed by the urge to slay from the beginning (sorry, dead foster family and paladin order)). So wipe them clean of any identity but the Urge and let them loose. If they come back and refuse to kneel then clearly this one was also a failure; scrap it and move onto attempt #3, who will have even less free will and self-determination than attempt #2 did.

#I feel like Bhaal's paranoia is mostly Charname's fault #And I'm staring at Chosen Durge VS Feral Durge and hmming.#What is it that Bhaal needs and Durge has that gets lost if they don't agree to submit?#I'm babbling so much what am I talking about #babbling #/durge

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varilien · 10 months

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(character uses they/it) i keep wanting to start posting my ocs over here again and then Just Not Doing It so uhhhh !!! some stuff from february, had a dream about knives that made me think of a plant oc with a constant power output so extreme that it generates a deadly radiation field around them. because of that they've been living alone this whole time, avoiding contact with other living things, and over the years they've learned how to suppress that output for short spans of time or "safely" pour out the excess in order to be safe to be around, though they ultimately prefer their solitude due to a history of bad experiences with humans. they're very blunt, spiteful, and curious

@whatever-you-can-give-me suggested lr would make good friends for them since they are 🤝 about being extremely hard to hurt lol

also! wrote like 2k about they and razlo's first meeting below the cut if anyone's interested in some good ol violence + gore :3

that was a fr content warning btw read at ur own discretion:

Chance encounters with violent strangers out in the open desert are nothing new to LR, even when Livio purposefully had tried to find the quietest possible route to travel. It’s not even necessarily surprising to run into someone a little to the left of human, someone a bit bigger or stronger or more durable than they really have any right to be. The Eye aren’t the only ones designing freaks on this planet, that much is obvious, evidenced sufficiently by the odder fights LR have ever gotten in.

And this one is shaping up to be one of their oddest fights yet.

Livio hadn’t seen the fucker coming, occupied as he was with the slow realization of why this stretch of road doesn’t see much use anymore: a creeping heat across his nerve endings unrelated to the overcast, evening suns, the taste of metal in his mouth, and a deep-rooted nausea twisting up his guts. Radiation sickness. He’s dealt with it before, and as unpleasant as it is, it’s hardly enough to slow him down too bad.

It’s damn distracting, though. A good enough excuse for not noticing them hiding up along the rockface above his head. Not a good enough excuse to keep Razlo from tagging in, especially after something’s pierced straight through the back of his neck, nearly taking his head clean off.

Razlo rolls for cover with a strangled sound, blood gushing from his forced-out throat and foaming at his lips. Even with his senses jarred and his vision blurred, it'd take more than a near-decapitation for his instincts to be overridden. He's slinging out a Punisher before he even knows what he's up against.

There's a blur of motion to his right as soon as his sights are raised. They're probably surprised Razlo's still standing, but so was everyone else who's gotten a lucky shot at him.

He can track their motion by sound alone. They're sloppy. Feet hitting the cracked earth in hard thumps, every one a warning that Razlo can aim a spray of bullets at. And by now Razlo's healed enough to notice and wonder why the hell his head is still so fucked up.

At least now he can mostly see them when he turns, hanging back a ways, out of Razlo's reach. Shorter than him by a head and a half, covered toe to tip in layers of sun-bleached rags, save for their face. That's hidden behind a tall, curved mask, shaped in a way that looks an awful lot like a tomas' crest, with the false eye markings to match. Even the glass for the lenses is opaque. The only part of them that’s exposed is their left hand, extended delicately aside to keep Razlo’s blood dripping off it from getting on their clothes.

Razlo physically tries to shake out the buzzing in his skull that only gets worse by the second, only to notice the foul smell of burning meat and risk an instinctive glance down at his arm, where his flesh has started to bubble and steam seemingly on its own. He looks between his arm and his opponent, the way their body tenses and head begins to tip, shaking hard, simultaneous with his skin boiling that much more fiercely.

Something clicks in his brain. There’s no way.

And no time to find out. This time when they dart in he’s expecting it; he takes a swing at their head, and they dodge right into his follow-through, slamming his Punisher into their skull with a crunch and a wet sound from their throat. They drop, like he’d expect them to, like anyone would. And like no one does, they just roll out of the way and onto their back, braced to spring back up again. Razlo puts his boot through their ribcage before they get the chance to. That should be the end of it, too, but the fucker just keeps kicking, trying to get away, the only sound they make being the gurgle of their lungs filling with blood, and they keep kicking.

At this point Razlo doesn’t even have a plan anymore. Needless to say, he doesn’t go up against an awful lot of guys who match him in the department of being a pain in the ass to take down. Razlo's just starting to come up with a new idea when those long arms swing up, claws digging into and making ribbons of his right leg.

Razlo curses and tries to pull away, which only makes them hold on even tighter. He's staring that four-eyed glare down when that burning feeling across his whole body raises in pitch again, and it's the sight of his flesh starting to disintegrate around their fingers that finally makes him back off.

Razlo rather gracelessly falls on his ass in trying to take a step back, not expecting his right leg to simply break off halfway down his thigh. He scrambles back a ways, ready to keep going, missing limb or no, but— they aren't following him. They're collapsed in the sand, limbs akimbo as they fight to draw a full breath. Razlo watches with morbid curiosity as his severed leg dissolves into nothing more than an off-colored patch of sand beside them.

All that angry tension has gone out of their body, leaving them limp and motionless except for the stutter of their chest, and Razlo can hear the damp gasps muffled behind their mask. By all rights, it should look like more of a struggle. They should be dead, really, but from where Razlo is sitting, it looks a lot more like they’re just taking a rest. He feels more sure of that when they roll their shoulders back a bit, arms braced in the dirt as they delicately arch their spine. There’s some sharp popping sounds, and a little exhale from them; setting their ribs, Razlo figures. He’s had to do the same thing before. Once they can move their arms more effectively, they start to gather themself up into a seated position, bones and joints still crackling like popcorn here and there as they go, til they’re all the way up, with their hands resting in their lap, looking far too fucking comfortable for the fight they’d just had.

"You're not dead."

Their voice startles Razlo despite being as soft as it is, and his gaze flicks up to that mask, just slightly tilted to the side, orange lenses glinting in the harsh sunlight. They don't move at all that Razlo can see. Even their breathing has evened out enough to have become imperceptible under their heavy shroud; if they're in any pain still, Razlo sure can't tell.

"Nope," is all he says, or can manage to say.

He scrubs at his eyes with the back of his hand, blinking hard a couple times to scrunch up his face in the hopes his nerves might start feeling right again soon.

Another wave of nausea hits him, but his stomach was empty before the fight even started, so he leans forward to put his head between his knees and dry heave for a while.

The whole time, he's aware of his little opponent continuing to sit in silence, watching and eerily unmoving, even when Razlo manages to sit up again and wipe his mouth with his wrist.

"The fuck's yer deal, anyways?" Razlo asks.

"'Deal'...?" They echo.

"Couldn't exactly kill you, either."

He wasn't expecting them to spill their life story or something, but he was thinking he'd get something more of a response than their head tilting back the opposite way. There's not a lot to work with here in trying to get a read on them, but Razlo feels it's safe to hazard they're probably just pretty damn confused, the same as him.

"You kinda smell like a Plant. M'not an expert, but I've met two others."

Now that gets something out of them. A tiny wiggle of their head that makes the pieces in their mask rattle.

"I wouldn't know. I've only met me."

“Huh.”

Whether it’s a confirmation or rebuttal hardly matters at this point. He’s feeling sure enough that his assumption was correct, now, anyways.

"You, uh…" Razlo has to pause for breath. Unlike the thing across from him, he's having a hell of a time getting his back. "You're the one making this radiation field?"

"Yes."

"Any way you could turn it down?"

They say nothing, though Razlo feels suddenly that he's being studied very intently. And shortly after, slowly, slowly the fire in his cells begins to go out, and he can spit the worst of the sourness off his tongue. Eventually he can't feel any radiation left at all, though his body's had a rough enough time from the dose he got, he'll be getting the sickness out of his system for a while yet.

Regardless, Razlo’s fingers twitch against the triggers when he hears that mask rattle again, and his eyes are on it in an instant.

"You didn't answer my first question," Razlo reminds, cautiously.

More silence, for a while.

"You wanted to hurt me."

There's no malice in the statement, at least that Razlo can tell. Just the simple facts. Still, he narrows his eyes.

"You started it. Figured it was mutual."

"That's true."

Razlo grins.

"So, what now? Regrow my leg, and get back to not killing each other?"

"If you'd like to."

That gets a laugh out of him.

"Nah, I think I’ll pass, if it’s all the same to you.”

“It is.”

That much is obvious. They stay put, seeming transfixed on watching Razlo’s leg grow back, only a little more slowly than any of his other injuries, now that he doesn’t have the radiation to slow him down. It leaves him feeling itchy and achy all over, and he’s got a bad hunch that right ankle doesn’t have the best chances of coming back right. Once there’s enough of it to fuss about, he gets his foot in his hands and starts experimentally rolling it on its hinge, checking that the range of motion is right.

And still, those orange lenses glint at him curiously. They don’t flinch or look away when Razlo considers them in return; he guesses they don’t know it’s not polite to stare.

“What's yer name?" Razlo asks.

"My name?"

"Don't tell me you ain't got one."

The silence that follows is pretty self-explanatory.

“I’m Razlo.”

He can just make out the sound of them mumbling his name under their breath, like they’re not sure how it’s going to come out. Almost warmly, almost shyly, they manage to say: “hello, Razlo.”

#also you don't have to tell me their mask reminds you of tristamp zazie's everyone says that lmao #oc #oc: razlo's lil friend #razlo #razlo the tri punisher of death #livio #livio the double fang #cuz i've never read trimax chatting about lr n their lil friend just felt like the usual playing toys time of oc crossovers w friends lol #and for that reason i have not given any thought at all to them meeting any other characters jghkdjf #i figure i should probably post this now since i'm gonna be busy with the horror movie requests + halloween stuff for a while

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steviesbicrisis · 2 years

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✨The Wizardly Fruity Four ✨

Gryffindor Steve: 7th year | Quidditch team captain | prefect | favorite subject: defense against the dark arts | least favorite: divination

Facts:

Steve’s parents are the kind to care about the purity of wizard blood, kinda disappointed he isn’t a Slytherin;

Steve plays as Beater, and constantly gets hurt during matches, his specialty being taking hits for his teammates;

When he's chosen as Prefect, he's surprised and often complains about his duty. Truth is, he's always around to help and guide people, never skips a patrol and he's always fussing over a certain group of third-year kids;

Hufflepuff Robin: 6th year | part of the Hogwarts band | member of Wizard’s chess club | favorite: charms | least favorite: potions

Facts:

Robin hasn’t gotten anything less than Exceeded Expectations since Fly class in her first year;

She used to have a crush on Tammy Thompson in her 4th year, the Gryffindor prefect alongside Steve;

Robin is half-blood and she bonds with Eddie over this. Her father is a muggle, her mother a witch;

Facts:

Despite knowing she wants to be a journalist, she takes as many classes and joins as many clubs as possible. She wants a full resume by the time she graduates;

Nancy is often close to burnout, Robin has to keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t end up in the infirmary, again;

Nancy is very competitive and often challenges Steve at quidditch or Robin at Wizard's Chess (she draws the line at D&D with Eddie);

Slytherin Eddie: 7th year (for the second time) | runs the hellfire club | has a muggle rock band | favorite: Potions | least favorite: Herbology

Facts:

Eddie is a muggle-born and most Slytherins make his life a living hell for it;

Eddie runs the club for the magical version of D&D (kinda like wizard’s chess), an extremely unpopular game. There’s a rumor that the game is related to dark magic, so Eddie is forced to have club meetings in the dungeons;

Eddie gets into trouble for wearing the hellfire club t-shirt instead of his uniform;

Random Fruity Four Facts:

Their friend group formed during their 4th (Robin and Nancy), 5th (Steve) and 6th (Eddie) year;

They always sit together even if they’re supposed to be with their respective houses. Their friendship confuses the hell out of people;

Robin and Steve got detention in their 4th/5th year and while cleaning the potion supply closet they tested some potions, got to the veritaserum and confessed every little secret they had to each other. They've been besties ever since;

Eddie and Steve bicker all the time but Eddie never misses a quidditch match (despite hating the sport) and Steve is often seen going around the dungeons whenever a D&D session is taking place;

Nancy and Steve went on a couple of dates but decided they’re better off as friends;

Nancy matches her patrols with Steve's so she can vent about her crush on Robin;

Robin and Nancy always study together. They rarely let Steve and Eddie join because they get distracted too easily, and because they enjoy some alone time;

If Eddie and Steve pass their NEWTs, it will be only because of Robin and Nancy;

People gossip about them, especially because of Nancy (Head Girl) and Steve (Quidditch Captain);

At one point is rumored that Steve is dating Nancy and cheating on her with Robin, who’s dating Eddie, who’s in love with Nancy;

Steve spends Christmas at school until he becomes friends with Robin, who invites him over. Since Eddie's uncle lives close to her, they force Nancy to make the trip so that they can all be together for the holidays;

Nancy bonds first with Eddie. She was having some trouble with Potion (getting Es instead of Os) so she finds out through the Potion professor, that Eddie Munson is one of the greatest students he had ever had. Nancy forces him to tutor her and they become friends;

Nancy and Robin get their shit together first, after Nancy runs out her plan on how to ask Robin out with Steve at least 10 times;

Eddie and Steve go on dates without realizing it. It takes Steve turning down someone because of Eddie to make him understand that something is going on;

That is it for now, but I kinda want to write some scenes with no chronological order about this universe in the future.

The kids were first years when Steve becomes prefect, now they're in their third year but I don’t know where to put them regarding the houses, let me know what you think!

Edit: if you wanna be tagged when I post stuff from this universe just let me know ❤️

#the fruity four #fruity four hogwarts au #hogwarts au #harry potter au #stranger things harry potter au #the wizardly fruity four #gryffindor steve harrington #hufflepuff robin buckley #ravenclaw nancy wheeler #slytherin eddie munson #steddie #ronance #platonic stobin #steve and eddie #robin and nancy #steve x eddie #robin x nancy #sbc writes #my edits

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 1 year

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The Arcana HCs: M6 with an MC who has periods

Julian

He's a doctor, he knows what's going on, bodily functions and fluids don't faze him

He is deeply in love with you and cannot stand seeing you in any kind of pain

He is swinging wildly between those two states for the duration of your cycle

Oh, some blood got on the sheets? No worries, he's an expert at cleaning this stuff up. You go lie down and relax

You've got cramps? They're bad enough to cause you pain? He's down on his knees begging for it be him instead

His little performance made you laugh? Laughing is so good for this! He'll get you some painkillers and that'll make it even better

You're crying because you're hormonal and out of chocolate? He's booting a screeching Malak out the window to request chocolates from Portia and turning the house upside down in his mad search for anything with cocoa in it

About halfway through you'll get fed up enough to kick him out of the house

He'll show up at Mazelinka's looking like a kicked puppy and she'll send him back with a jar of apology soup, which works better than any medicine

Asra

They love you and will do anything and everything to help

You want cuddles? He'll cancel any plans for the rest of the day

Need chocolate? They've got three different kinds stocked

Mood swings? He's got pranks for when you want to laugh, handkerchiefs for when you want to cry, and several trinkets he pilfered off of Lucio for when you're angry and want to destroy something

The inevitable mess? They've got a brilliant spell to snap that clean and all kinds of peculiar bath products to try out

Cramps? The stove salamander has been trained to act as the perfect heating pad, Asra's got pain remedies from every place he's visited, and he's a fantastic masseuse

Faust is also happy to wrap herself around your torso for added squeezes

One time he found a pain transferring spell and decided to try it when you were at your very worst

They ended up cry-laughing on the floor, happy with how well it worked, shocked at how much pain they were suddenly experiencing, and totally fascinated with a sensation they had never encountered before

He was willing to try it again, but you refused because 1) you have way more practice handling it than he does and you don't like seeing him in pain, 2) he's so intrigued with how unique the sensation is he keeps losing focus and breaking the spell, and 3) you wouldn't be able to pamper him as well as he pampers you

Nadia

If she isn't the type to experience difficult periods, she grew up with multiple sisters. She knows what she's doing

If she could take time off to look after you she would, but she's the Countess and Vesuvia won't run itself

She will definitely give you time off for it though, as her court magician you need your rest

Every resource you could want is at your beck and call

Palace doctor on standby for pain medication, and to monitor the general health of your cycle

Private bath is available at all hours

Masseuse scheduled for daily therapy

Carefully planned diet to satisfy your cravings and meet your nutritional needs

The only problem is that she's the best person to be around when you're moody, and she's not always available to take a quick break and love you through it

After she came to check on you at the end of the day and found you in tears because you missed her she felt like the worst partner ever

Now she wraps up a body pillow in her softest nightgown for you to snuggle and makes sure it has her perfume on it

Chandra stays perched on the windowsill to relay any status changes to her

She schedules breaks to check in on you

She's also become a master at predicting your cycle patterns to make sure there's nothing big planned

Muriel

Let's be honest here, he was living in the woods full time by the time he was a teen and his only break was spent in the Coliseum

It's possible Asra sat him down and gave him the talk at some point, but you're probably the first person he knows who actually experiences this

He's uncannily tuned in to your emotions though, and he knows what pain looks like better than anyone else

You'll have to explain it to him as much as you're comfortable with, but the way he sees it, you're a noble soul experiencing physical discomfort that you can't control and he loves you very much

He won't mind if there's any mess, he lives in the wild and knows how to clean

The mood swings surprised him a bit, but he likes seeing you on the expressive side

He also appreciates the chance to support you emotionally when it's normally the other way around

The cramps are what make the most sense to him, because again, he knows what physical pain is like better than anyone and this is familiar

He doesn't like seeing you in pain though, and is very attentive to keeping you comfortable

The worst for him is when you get cravings and he doesn't have it stocked

The first time this happened he was too panicked to attempt a trip into town so he sent Innana to Asra with an SOS note

They were very happy to help and shared some helpful tips as well, which Muriel deeply appreciated

Portia

You two are synced and neither of you have easy cycles

The first time was a disaster. Both of you tried to power through it, neither of you were prepared, and the resulting clash sent her sulking to Mazelinka and you isolating in the shop

You were able to talk it out and now you make a monthly holiday of it

You spend the week beforehand stocking up and getting your tasks organized to have the lightest workload possible for the week

You make a game of finding the craziest pain relief or period product you can find and rating it together

Cramp cuddles

You eat so much food in bed there are crumbs everywhere but you're going to have to change the sheets a few times anyway with the blood business going on

You both have a wicked sense of humor, so the mood swings stay manageable as long as one of you is able to crack a joke about it

Pepi lies on your stomachs so she can knead and purr on them

All of your male friends know to stay far, far away from the premises

If they absolutely have to drop by it's with an armload of offerings (mostly chocolate, pain killers, and hot water bottles)

Lucio

Oh dear

He loves you, he really does, but everything about periods down to the concept of them freaks him out

Dude has mommy issues, what can I say

Seriously though, he'll do his best to make you feel loved and supported and provided for so he doesn't have to engage too much

The blood freaks him out the least (mercenary) so he'll spring for a chance to take your sheets or soiled clothing since it removes him from the vicinity while still being helpful

He will also be more than happy to run errands for any and all of your cravings

He's terrified of your mood swings, not because he's scared of you hurting him, but because he can't predict your emotional state and that stresses him out

He also doesn't like seeing you in pain, but he's familiar enough with it to not get scared off by it

He'll bring you all the remedies that used to work for him. Some of them (like the hot water bottle) really help, and some of them don't (like the overripe smoked garlic he tried to hang around your neck)

He has successfully figured out how to comfort you though, and that's what gets you through it

He remembers how well you slept in the labyrinth when he was keeping watch for you

Now, whenever it gets really bad, he'll rest your head on his shoulder and plant his sword in front of the two of you, because at least he knows how to keep you safe

#the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #portia devorak #lucio morgasson #muriel of the kokhuri #arcana shitposting #the arcana game

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drdemonprince · 10 months

Note

How do you feel about “weaponized incompetence”

I see a lot of people talking about it, and I know it can definitely be a thing that people do purposefully, but so many things that fall under the umbrella seem like things that some neurodivergent people tend to struggle with.

I don't think a person needs to be consciously or intentionally weaponizing incompetence in order to leverage it for their benefit. Due to forces like systemic sexism, sometimes a weaponized incompetence dynamic plays out without anybody meaning it to.

Now of course, weaponized incompetence is absolutely a dynamic that some people deliberately create (famously, a husband or boyfriend knowingly washing the dishes poorly so his partner never asks him to do it again), but more often than not, it's the byproduct of capitalist overwork and alienation meeting sexist norms that play out on an intuitive level rather than some malicious, evil plan.

My ex-partner absolutely benefitted from weaponized incompetence; he was also almost certainly an undiagnosed ADHDer who was struggling, and not a bad guy. From my perspective, it didn't matter. I still ended up having to pay the bills, sign us up for all the utilities, figure out a new place to live three different times when our rent went up, hire the movers, remind him to get a new ID when his old one was expired and we had a flight coming up, find him a dentist when his tooth was aching, help him write emails for his work when he first got a job, ask him to clean things rather than being able to trust he would contribute, make all the decisions regarding decluttering the house, take care of our pet, etc etc etc.

He deserved more help than he ever got, as a (very likely) disabled person living under capitalism. But I also covered him and shouldered his life burdens in a way that made me miserable and offloaded a lot of his responsibilities onto me. It drove me nuts and made me dysphoric to admit it, but a large part of how we wound up in that dynamic was systemic sexism, because he was a cishet man and I wasn't.

All that said, and my considerable real-life biases having been put on the table, I do think it's the case that many disabled people are unfairly accused of 'weaponizing incompetence' when all that they've done is express a limitation as clearly as they possibly could, which ought to be a good thing. There is nothing wrong or manipulative with asking for help, or for articulating what you are and are not capable of as honestly as you can. (And this honest communication piece was absent in the relationship I am describing; he wouldn't even acknowledge that he wasn't and could not contribute to maintaining a life together in any practical way. When I tried to name that dynamic, he would shut down, walk away, say things were going to change without any plan for how that might happen, etc).

In much the same way that an excited Autistic person who is infodumping or communicating super clearly in order to be helpful can be unfairly branded a "mansplainer", lots of disabled people are seen unfairly as manipulative, lying about their limitations, taking advantage of other people, lazy, and weaponizing incompetence.

The trope of the fake disabled person who is just gaming the system cuts deep. It's pervasive and it's responsible for a lot of social problems that disabled people face, from impossibly difficult benefits applications programs, to cruel teachers who refuse to provide the accommodations to which their students are entitled, to abusive and neglectful partners who fail to meet their disabled loved one's needs. Arguably I even was one of those partners, even if I did have genuine reasons for grievance and very real disabilities of my own.

The reality is that the lines between all these things can be blurred, as a person's intent and their impact can be wildly different. people who are doing their best can still leverage sexism and leave a partner feeling taken advantage of. And a partner who feels taken advantage of can have real reasons for feeling that way and can also still be ableist, or even cruel and unfair to their disabled loved one. it's tough.

Thanks for the great question, it is one I think about a lot for obvious reasons.

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oneatlatime · 7 months

Text

The Library

Ground hog pipe organ. That's really quite twee.

Since when is Sokka concerned about the time crunch? Although he's right about the whole 'no plan' thing.

Katara is such a little sister sometimes.

Is an ice spring a thing? I feel like we wouldn't have invented refrigeration if ice springs were possible. What a cool idea though.

Dentists aren't a thing in the avatar universe.

Does sword guy sterilise those swords between drinks? How clean are the insides of the sheaths? Why is someone so overqualified working as a blender? How boring is this town that master swordsmen resort to being Magic Bullets to pass the time?

Has it ever occurred to Aang to try to maintain a little mystery around his identity? At the start of the first season, people's first thoughts when seeing an airbender were probably "wow! the fire nation missed one!" but by now it has to be well known that the airbender ping ponging around the earth kingdom is THE avatar. It's not like he didn't have other options. He could have waterbended the smoothie away. He could have asked Katara to waterbend the smoothie away. If I were feeling angsty, I'd say that a child of peacetime just doesn't have it in him to be sufficiently suspicious/cynical to feel the need to disguise himself. But I'm not feeling angsty, so I'm gonna say that Aang had a moment of dumb. Understandable, given he's twelve.

Nevermind! Aang accurately assessed how little he needed to hide himself because this professor is a dumb too!

Cool it with the phrenology.

Finding lost civilisations all over the earth kingdom is apparently a worthless accomplishment. You know, I don't like this guy.

Clam lamp. Coconut lamp?

That fox joke did not land.

This is the Taj Mahal.

Toph's still on probation. Gotta work six months* before you get the benefits package! * or until the world ends with the comet, whichever comes first.

Sokka wants to vacation in a library. I love how unrepentantly nerdy he can be.

Hey. Professor idiot. Wanna find your unfindable library? Go recruit Zuko. That kid finds so well it gives me flashbacks to Hufflepuff jokes.

Not sure what this implies re: the sapience of sandbenders.

The sandbenders have to have learned that move from airbenders. Also isn't that really inefficient? Rotational force goes 360 degrees but they only want force in a single direction. They should have modeled their sandbending on waterbending instead and created a giant wave behind their sleds for them to surf along.

That chin needs scritches.

I hope they're bringing lots of water rations with them. How much water do you thing Appa needs in a day?

Would Sokka, who lives at the South Pole, know what a fox is?

Everyone keeps forgetting stuff this episode. Library is buried? You have two earthbenders and two airbenders.

Love the attitude.

This has been bugging me for a few episodes now so I might as well mention it. I know it's an artistic choice, but: having fingernails the same colour as fingers squicks me out.

Sokka's turn with the dumb. Why would you climb up to the library when three of you can fly? Appa can hover. Just walk down his tail to the window.

That's twice now they've forgetten Toph's blindness. I love her attitude towards them forgetting.

Sokka's boomerang is one hell of a multitool. Whatever it's made of, it's indestructible.

"Don't worry buddy. I'm not making you go underground ever again." I hope that's not ironic foreshadowing.

Stuffed head of anthropology might be an improvement.

The vocal effect on this owl is neat.

Dammit. Now stealing from the pirates is justified.

Why do you even have that? Why did you stuff it down your shirt? Just why?

*Heroically refrains from going on a rant about the value of non-written sources, oral tradition, and pejoratively labelled 'folk' knowledge.*

The Ears!!! Those cute little ears. They have no business being so floppy. Appa & Toph, the duo I never knew I needed.

Appa is a very good listener.

LEFTY SHOUTOUT!!!

Sokka has not only forgotten that he's after a map of the fire nation; he's also stolen the declaration of independence.

Two things: First, this is the best boy. Second, Sokka seems to be a cat person.

You think the Fire Nation, a Nation that knew enough astronomy to correctly predict, plan for, and harness the power of a comet to complete a very successful genocide, doesn't know there's an eclipse coming up and has planned accordingly? Like come on. They named the comet after their Firelord. They obviously know how astronomy works. It would take literally one eclipse, depriving them of their bending once, for the whole nation to become suddenly very invested in predicting the movements of celestial bodies. They know this. I promise you they have safeguards in place. Pick a less obvious time to attack.

So is the owl gullible as all hell or did he let them in to give them enough rope to hang themselves?

Badass line about justifying war. Although equating protecting the people you love with hoarding library books does not hold water.

This owl has far too much neck.

HOW strong is Toph?

This owl sure is destroying a lot of his books.

Sokka doesn't know that Toph is holding up the library right? And there's no way for him to know how quickly/slowly the library is sinking. So this date checking montage makes no sense. Maybe he will find out the date, but if he's sealed underground then it doesn't matter that he learned it.

Do not like.

Very much DO NOT LIKE.

Did they just kidnap Appa?

Should have told him to yip yip. Does Toph know Yip yip?

I am a big fan of Sokka style. Although I'm glad this show aired a decade before Gangnam Style came out, otherwise the memes would have been insufferable.

The owl is going to eat you as soon as it wakes up. Did you see a cafeteria? A water source? Even if you hide from the owl you'll be dead in a week.

Massive points to Toph for holding that up as everyone inside was delaying for stupid reasons.

No.

No you have to give me back Appa before the episode ends. That's the rules.

Final Thoughts

Unacceptable.

This episode felt contrived, everyone involved except maybe Toph had some epic moments of dumb, and to top it all off they stole Appa. I am not amused.

There was lots of setup and little story here. At least that's what it felt like. There were some fairly lame lines that came off as ham-fisted exposition. The ground hog choir was about the only funny bit. Maybe it's the utterly unacceptable ending bleeding backwards and staining the rest of the episode, but I did not like this one. It honestly would have benefited from a Zuko b-plot, and I do not say that lightly.

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #the library #having fun isn't hard when you've got a library card

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professorspork · 18 days

Note

⭐️the triple meet cutes pls >:)

well, here is where the downside of the way I outline -- i.e. putting it directly into the document and then just replacing it with the prose itself as I go -- shows its head, because I'm not sure I can stitch the timeline on this together as perfectly as I'd like. luckily I can for some of it because I narrate the vast majority of my life events to @alexkablob thanks for being my searchable diary pal

lol gonna cut this too bc I AM VERBOSE

the true meet cute was always going to happen at a bar. "My friends are being jerks right now, can I sit with you?" is a line that was actually used on me (collectively, addressed to my friend group) at a bar, and it remains one of the BEST lines I've ever heard (love that poor little meow meow rizz), and it was always going to belong to Yang. I knew they'd begin there, and they'd end at "So you don't date. Do you make friends? I've been told I give great friend."

the question then became: how the fuck was I going to get Blake to go to a bar when I knew she's sober and a total hermit?

I considered her going to see a band she likes play, but didn't love that because it would put Yang in the rude position of interrupting something important that she was there to enjoy. I considered it being an open mic night, maybe something where they had an overlapping friend in common and didn't know it, but again-- that directs the scene, and suddenly it's about their mutual buddy rather than them and their chemistry. I considered several different settings (coffee shop? the park?) instead of a bar, to try and make it read smoother, but bar just Felt Right. as someone who's gone to bars to watch baseball when I didn't have access to cable, that cropped up as an idea, and then it was just a question of coming up with a sporting event Blake would possibly have interest in, and ice skating seemed feasible enough. back when I lived in the East Village, I had a corner bar I'd go to down the block from my place that had amazing fried pickles and I'd often do my homework there before it got busy, so that's where that came from.

the "last ferry out to Menagerie" paragraph, in which Blake recontextualizes and basks in her attraction to Yang after learning she's trans, is hands down the single excerpt I worked hardest on. the first step, as I was drafting it early last august, was coming up with the right metaphor in the first place. I wanted something which would help me avoid it reading like a "well you can always tell with those transes" cringefest

me: so now the thing i'm chewing on is-- is what we talked about before, which is figuring out how to write about blake being attracted to the parts of yang's appearance that are sort of self-evidently trans without it accidentally becoming a weird bioessentialist screed me: the best metaphor i've come up with so far is glasses, like-- like putting on your glasses after cleaning them when they've been smudgy for a week, and you suddenly have this wonderful appreciation for crisp little beautiful details me: but blake does not wear glasses and i'm not enough of a hack to give her glasses JUST FOR THIS (i did consider it) so now i'm trying to think of other ways to talk about that, like-- moment of dawning clarity

(sorry I did not give blake glasses. similarly, this past march while writing the big sex scene in chapter 9 I was like "well yes i'm 123k into this but what if I went through and edited everything to give Blake a nose ring wouldn't that be hot" and alexis talked me out of it so blame her.)

once I came up with the "last ferry" concept ("me, rollerblading down Main Street, AO3: HAVE YOU MARVELED AT THE CELESTIAL BEAUTY OF TRANS PEOPLE TODAY") I worked on those two sentences for over an hour. i am particular about my language and cadence always, but even for me this is uh absurdly excessive. WORTH IT THO, because it's the most important passage in the whole fic. i deleted and rephrased it probably a hundred times, trying to get the right flow, the right lyricism, and crucially not say "stars" 8 different times.

Blake's deep dark secret being that she's a country fan has been baked into this fic's essence from the very beginning; the title, "something wild and unruly," is from a Dixie Chicks song for this reason. IT WILL CONTINUE TO BE RELEVANT, and I had to get it in early.

as I've told several people, the "deck building game" joke also comes directly from my life. Helen and I went to New Jersey last June to do wedding errands -- tastings, fittings, engagement photo shoot -- and while we were there we visited a very cute bar in my hometown as a potential night-before-wedding hangout space. she casually mentioned that her sibling was texting her about... oh gosh, I can't remember the name of it, but I went "what's that?" and she said "a deck-building game" and because I was home, and thus around my mother and how she has HGTV on all the time, instead of oh, like Dominion I went "like a porch?" and then she laughed and laughed and I said "well that's definitely going in the fic."

luckily my wife is used to that, because I stole from our lives a great deal. she first started having car battery trouble in January of 2023, and then we opened up the hood and found scary corrosion and my dad talked me through how to clean that out the way Neptune does. from then on it was sort of floating in the back of my mind that this could be something I used in the story-- Blake's car is 100% based on Helen's car, which she bought at a police auction and clearly had a Rough Backstory-- but it was three weeks later that we finally got tired of jumping it all the time and called AAA. the guy really DID come like 2 minutes after I put the request in on the app, so shockingly Yang's fast turnaround time is actually based on life. and about ten minutes after that happened I declared:

me: no real-life anecdote is ever wasted and this is DEFINITELY happening to blake after she and yang have their meet-cute and it's yang who shows up and has to be like WELL HOW ABOUT THAT SERENDIPITY :D

about three months later I then had my OWN battery troubles, and that's when I went out of my way to ask the tech who came about a million questions about what the multimeter read and how cold crank amp tests worked. I pretty much wrote our conversation verbatim into a note on my phone, which became what Yang said. (the fellow who came then also had a very sharp and snazzy work shirt, and that's when I thought about how cute the little Yang on her breast pocket would be)

only it would be--

Yang

:) okay anyway

I don't know what it is about competent service professionals that make me go "you're Yang Xiao Long actually" but I've done it twice now, with my wedding DJ and with the AAA people

I went back and forth on whether the library meet-cute would come before or after the car scene, but in its earliest incarnation the idea was just that Yang would come up to the circ desk to check something out and oops Blake's standing there. at one point I even considered having Yang ask her out to lunch. once I realized it behooved me to have Yang and Pyrrha already be friends, so Pyrrha could vouch for her, I knew it had to come at the end to tie everything in a bow.

#sdau #fic what i wrote

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rat-father · 11 months

Text

Part 2 to this because someone asked (how did you guys even find that post it's over a year old)

-- TW;; conditioned whumpee, pet whump, caretaker new master --

Caretaker gazed hesitantly at the pet at his feet. What was he supposed to do with them? He never understood the joy behind owning a slave. He lowered himself to his own knees. Slowly reaching his hand out to rest on Whumpee's head. He never planned to be in this situation. Whumpee smiled into his touch. He felt guilt warm him. Caretaker had done nothing to decided the poor pet's fate, but he still felt so bad sitting in front of them, seeing another human tortured into acting like this.

How was he supposed to provide for someone who fully believes they don't deserve the bare minimum? He was no psychologist. He couldn't handle this.

But the people that could 'handle' pets were the ones that brought them into existence in the first place. And while he never dreamed of ever getting a pet of his own, willingly giving a pet to someone he knew would torture them was something he'd see in his nightmares.

The pet— Whumpee, raised their head again slowly with tensed shoulders. He didn't meet their gaze immediately, gathering a smile for when he did.

"This will be your new forever home."

He crouched in front of them. His hand reached out to unlock his collar. The metal hitting his tiles both satisfying and a screech in his ears.

"I won't give up on you, Whumpee," Caretaker whispered.

Whumpee returned his smile twice as bright, but he was sure they weren't smiling for the same reason as him.

He gave them a hand and pulled them off the floor. The pet stabilized themselves by clinging to his arm, shock wide in their eyes. Yet they swallowed their words and didn't question their new owner.

"I don't think the floors are very clean. Let's just walk, okay?"

Whumpee nodded, and noted to mop them as soon as possible.

"Are you hungry, Whumpee? I can make you food?"

"Ah— no, no, Master. Pets are supposed to make food for their Owners! If, if it's feeding time, I can make food for myself, and clean everything afterwards to not burden Master." They hurriedly spoke up.

He paused.

"Alright. You can go do that…"

Would they even know where the kitchen is? Obviously not, they've never seen the house. He'd have to show them around before anything else. But they already darted past him and found their way in a rather impressive amount of time.

He'd leave them alone for a little bit, then. There was still a lot to clean up in his hallway. And the sight of the darned box served as nothing but reminder of the new truth.

| 13:03 PetPaper question submission

| 13:01 PetPaper

| 12:48 How to tell if your pet is comfortable around you

| 12:45 Ways to make your pet feel comfortable in a new home.

Whumpee stayed true to their word about not being a 'burden' to Caretaker. Silently approaching and kneeling beside him while he bit his nails searching through the internet for answers. They could've gone completely unnoticed, had they not timidly spoken up to advice him against the bad habit.

"Sorry, Whumpee… Wait, have you eaten already? Do I have anything you like, or do I need to buy something for you?"

The pet considered their answer carefully. "Pet's don't have preferences, Master." They shook their head.

Well that wouldn't help him at all. There was a chance Whumpee was someone that truly liked anything, but, it wasn't anything to count on. He'd have to somehow figure it out. Maybe when Whumpee got more comfortable, they'd tell him.

"Alright."

Staring down at Whumpee from the couch, Caretaker felt like he was taken all the way back to square one. The pet visibly relaxed almost every time he spoke. There was so much trust and affection in their doe eyes. Like staring at the remains of a flame inside a shattered lantern. Normal people did not place their lives in the hands of a complete stranger, yet they did so without hesitation.

Judging solely off the lack of scars peeking above their shirt, and the branded clothing they wore, he could only assume he was Whumpee's first real owner. It did explain the behavioral difference between them and all his family and friend's pets. Whumpee has been abused. But not to the extent of the pets he knew.

Caretaker shuddered, wondering if all pets acted like this at first. If they all had a glimmer of hope in them. His shaky breath caught in his throat imagining what must've happened to snuff it out. The longer he thought about it, the sicker he felt.

Cold arms wrapped around him. Or maybe he was getting too hot. Their soft voice told him 'everything will be fine, master'. The tears he hadn't noticed welling up started to roll down. He shouldn't be getting comforted by the person he was supposed to help. He didn't experience even a sliver of the pet's trauma. He didn't need the attention.

Caretaker placed his hand on theirs.

"I'm fine, Whumpee. Thank you."

They retracted their arms, but he grabbed their hand and slid off the couch to pull them into a more proper hug. They froze up in surprise. Then relaxed on his shoulder.

Caretaker wished they could hold onto Whumpee until the end of time, so their momentary peace could last an eternity.

#whump #pet whump #conditioned whumpee #caretaker new master #captivity whump #whens part 2 to my recent fic coming?#errm in a year and 4 months obv #slash sarcasm

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ramblingsofafanatic · 1 year

Text

It's time to let go

Summary: Bahryn Fest day 4! Kallus' Bo-rifle finds his way back to him.

Word Count: 1,367

Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios

Warnings: None.

Can also be read on AO3 here!

Fic under the cut:

"Zeb I-" Kallus starts as he re-enters their home, looking forward to a nice relaxing lunch with his bondmate after a laborious morning weeding his garden. He cuts himself off when he sees Zeb sitting at the table with everything laid out and ready to eat - they usually prepare the meals together when they're both home.

"Hey Kal" Zeb greats, smiling the way he does when he's about to ask for forgiveness instead of permission.

"What did you do?" Kallus asks.

"Why can't I just do something nice for my husband without him thinking I have ulterior motives?" Zeb asks in return.

"Start doing nice things just to be nice and I'll stop being suspicious" Kallus says as he eases himself down into the chair across from Zeb. It's not like Zeb never does anything nice for him, Kallus is a lucky man with a wonderful partner. But Zeb's nice things are usually small everyday things like making caf in the morning or getting the heating pad out for Kal's legs on cold rainy days. It's never this - making a meal alone and cleaning up the mess before they've eaten so Kallus can't try and do them after. He's even laid out a new tablecloth that he obviously bought recently because Kal has never seen it before, which means he's definitely done something. What he did remains to be seen.

"I promise I didn't do anything bad this time!" Zeb protests.

“But you did do something.” Kal points out as he serves out the food for the both of them. No use in letting the food go cold because Zeb did something Kal probably won’t be thrilled about.

“Well kind of, Ezra did most the work,” Zeb explains, which just raises more questions. Ezra was just recovered from wild space less than a month ago, they only got to see him in person a few days ago, what could he have possibly been up to in that time that has Zeb trying to apologize. Zeb gets up and goes into the next room before returning with an obviously bo-rifle shaped object wrapped in fabric.

“Zeb, I told you, I don’t want a new bo-rifle. I didn’t - I barely deserved the first one,” Kallus says, correcting himself halfway. This has been an ongoing argument between the two, and Kallus chooses his words carefully as he doesn’t want to get into a fight again.

He knows that in everyone else's eyes, he got his first bo-rifle honourably, and he didn't question it at first either when he was still an imperial agent. But after everything he's learned since then… he doesn't feel like he ever deserved to touch it let alone wield it for so many years. The idea of getting a new one - one not received honourably in battle but one made for him - made him shudder. They're not even supposed to be used by anyone other than members of the Lasan High Honour Guard, which he most certainly is not.

He knows Zeb really wants to be able to spar with them again, and Zeb has explained that Kallus already rightfully owned one previously so getting a new one wouldn’t be that big of a deal. He also knows that the people on Lira San dont have the same strict rules or customs surrounding Bo-Rifle’s as those on Lasan did, but it still feels wrong to him. He already fears he's overstepped by living with Zeb in a village of Lasan refugees here on Lira San, he doesn't want to overstep anymore than he already has. No. He refuses to use a new one.

"It's not a new one." Zeb says proudly.

"Zeb, that's even worse," Kallus is starting to panic now. The thought that this is someone's used weapon - that it being left this way meant they didn't die honourably in battle in order to perform the Booshan Keeraw. How was Zeb okay with this? He remembers how angry Zeb was to see he had one, how undeserving he thought Kallus was until Kallus told the real story when they were stranded on that ice moon.

“What? Oh Kal no- I mean- look!” Zeb rushes when he realizes Kallus’ line of thought. He unwraps the bo-rifle and holds it out for Kallus to take. Kallus stares at it in shock for a second, before slowly reaching out and taking the bo-rifle, his bo-rifle, from Zeb.

“This is…” Kallus starts but trails off as he gets a better look at it. It’s his, the one he lost when he got caught out as fulcrum and had to make a quick escape. He assumed he’d never see it again, especially after Ezra and Thrawn disappeared along with the Chimaera.

“Your bo-rifle yea, Ezra brought it back with him and gave it to me when he came to visit, Thrawn had it in his office as some trophy, I had to clean it up of course, that’s why it took a couple days, it’s still a little banged up of course, but it’s yours.” Zeb explains, rambling a bit as he gets progressively more worried at Kallus’ lack of reaction. He was understandably nervous. He knew Kallus wasn’t too keen to have a bo-rifle again, but he’s hoping since this one is already his, it may be the compromise they’ve been looking for. He was shocked when Ezra handed it to him, he hadn’t expected the kid to lug around Kallus’ old weapon for that long - but he did.

“Bridger must really like you,” Kallus says finally.

“What?” Zeb asks, that was not what he was expecting.

“It’s a weapon of your people’s culture Zeb, I don't see why he’d carry around the weapon of an imperial for that long, especially seeing as we weren’t that close. Plus he handed it to you, not me.” Kallus explains.

“Ex-imperial.” Zeb says, the correction as much of a habit to him as Kallus still referring to himself as an imp.

“Right, yea, ex-imperial. Point still stands” Kallus amends, and Zeb’s ears fold back as he thinks it over, he wants to argue Kal’s points so badly, but he can’t find any points to make. Damn him, it frustrates Zeb to no end when Kal is right - or at least when Zeb can’t articulate why he’s wrong.

“Relax, love, does it really matter how it got back here?” Kallus says as he starts inspecting the rifle in more detail, there’s some visible wear upon close inspection, but overall Zeb did a really good job in cleaning it up. Zeb’s ears pick back up as he realizes Kal isn’t mad.

“No, I guess not, does this mean…” Zeb asks, trailing off as he watches the fluid movements of Kal changing the bo-rifle between the different configurations. Watching Kal be so confident with a weapon of his people was doing things for him and it’s much harder to ignore now that there’s no hatred of the man to focus on instead.

“Yea, I’ll keep it. It’s time to let go” Kallus says softly. It would be hard to argue against keeping a bo-rifle Zeb has already made him agree was rightfully his while trying to get him a new one. And even though he knows that it may not have been brought back for him, it was brought back for Zeb and who is Kallus to deny him this.

“So we can start sparring with them?” Zeb asks hopefully as he watches Kallus get up and move to place the bo-rifle next to where Zeb keeps his own by the front door.

“Yeah, though I may be rusty with it. It took me longer to learn how to use a bo-rifle than any other weapon, and it’s been a long time since I’ve used one”” Kallus says as he returns to the table and they resume their lunch.

“We’ll see about that.” Zeb says, and later after they’ve finished eating and cleaning up the small mess in the kitchen, they do just that.

“Rusty my ass” Zeb says with a laugh, as Kallus offers a hand to help him back up. Kallus just laughs as well as they get into position for another round.

#art #kalluzeb #bahrynfest2023 #bahrynfest #bahryn fest 2023 #kallus has been spending a lot of time out in the sun and Zeb is appreciating the spots #<- just feel like mentioning it cause i didnt in the fic lol

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spaceratprodigy · 21 days

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D, F and H for fairh and max hehe <3

@hibernationsuit — [ The Fluff Alphabet ]

More Faith and Max content? Don't mind if I do <3

–

D. Domestic (do they want to settle down? how are they with cooking and cleaning?)

I mean, realistically yes. Considering how their lives have been since meeting and even before that, they've been through a fucking lot. They want some rest, they want a peaceful life for themselves to be possible, but there's so much work ahead of them before that can ever be done. But the moment they can have it they are relishing in every moment together that they can, finally being able to breathe and relax their shoulders for the first time in their entire lives.

So, my own personal standing is that canon Faith and Max don't have children. It's not something they want, it's not something that happens for them, and they are more than happy about it, because being together is what's most important. However, I will humor the thought because y'all already know in several AUs they do have a daughter together :]

Faith is quite good at cooking! It's a bit rough for her having to acclimate to exclusively Halcyon food, and often needs Parvati and Max to remind/encourage her to eat, but she enjoys cooking for sure. She does have a preference for baking, having quite the sweet tooth, herself. Max is not that into sweets, but he will try anything she makes. It's fine, it tastes better when it's off her lips anyway. Max I think is fine at cooking, not bad but not the greatest either. He cooks just enough that is satisfactory for his own needs. But if he's cooking for Faith, he puts a noticeable amount of more effort into it.

I think they're both pretty good at keeping clean generally. Too much clutter and lack of organization would bother Faith and she would end up tidying up anyway, but their space is most definitely lived in. They have their own things here and there, their own projects left out for when they return to them in a bit, some books and schematics sitting around, things like that, but not anything that's unbearably messy.

–

F. Fiancé (how do they feel about commitment? how fast do they want to get married?)

Their story is genuinely a slow burn despite me always getting right to the good stuff. By the time they do realize what's going on between them and how very real their feelings for each other are, it is suffocating for them. They are terrified. This is such a new experience for both of them and they don't really know how to handle it, and then Fallbrook Arc happens and it makes everything even more complicated. Because now they're faced with the thing they were trying to avoid acknowledging blowing up in their faces and how they now might lose the best thing that's ever happened to them if they don't wise up and get it together.

But once reciprocation and reconciliation on Scylla happens, they cannot be pried apart ever again after that. Marriage isn't exactly a thing that's on their mind for a long while afterwards, they're just so blissed out of their minds having each other and being together that that's all that matters.

What does spark marriage talk, however, is Gorgon. Let's just kinda skip to the end of these thoughts. Nobody walked away from Gorgon feeling okay. The entire crew was miserable, depressed, hollow, they stayed huddled in the kitchen for days together, no one wanting to be alone after that mission, after everything. Faith and Max were holding each other tighter at night after that.

One day, they need to talk about it. Not really any specific conversation in mind, just needing to get anything off their chests about that place and everything they saw, everything they discovered, what it did to so many people and how it continues to haunt Halcyon. Something leads to another, Max brings up how Faith would feel about making their companionship a little more permanent. How after everything, everything they've been through, and whatever more is to come, if some fate is to befall them, they die with no one to doubt how deeply their love ran for each other, they die not ever being alone, they die knowing they were each other's.

Without a word to anyone but themselves, they start wearing matching rings.

–

H. Hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it, and what are they like?)

Faith is Very Weird about being touched in most cases. She likes physical intimacy, but she isn't exactly a people person and it's very hard for her to find that kind of comfort within someone. She doesn't trust or feel safe around most others to put their hands on her in any way. There are few exceptions as her story progresses, but the safe bet is to let her initiate any kind of physical contact.

I think Max is in a similar boat of physical touch not exactly being his strongest love language. So even tho I don't think either of them are super mushy gushy, I do think every touch between them is so charged and intoxicating. They are definitely more private about it.

As for the hugging, I can see it being a very deep experience whenever they do. This long desperate need they didn't realize they craved for so long, the starved feeling that comes with it as they hold on, melting into each other and not wanting to let go, not wanting to lose that comfort. When was the last time they felt something like this? It is a huge sign of love between them to do this.

#long post #faith and max #thank you for the ask <333 #your honor. red clearly asked for fairh 🤨#<- we don't talk about fairh 😒

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spell-jars-and-black-wolves · 1 year

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Some devotional tips for closeted pagans, based on our own experiences

Not everything on this list will apply to everyone, and that's perfectly fine. Use what works for you and your practice, and leave what doesn't work. The beautiful thing about the pagan community is that we can each shape our own path based on our personal beliefs and practices. So without further ado, here's some things we do that might help you if you have to hide your spiritual beliefs.

Deity jars: this is one of the first things we ever did when we started leaving physical offerings for Loki a few months ago. A deity jar is basically a small jar filled with little things that you want to leave as offerings to the deity you work with, and it can be useful if you have to hide any objects that are of spiritual importance to you. We're able to hide ours in plain sight on top of our dresser where our altar is, and our mom just thinks it's another weird thing we like to collect. Our jar is filled with offerings to Loki such as a small pinecone, twigs, shells, a worm on a string (he loves those for whatever reason), and small coins.

Nonphysical offerings: sometimes you just aren't able to leave physical offerings for your deities on an altar like candles or food. What you can do instead is devote your time to them, especially if the activity you're doing is something related to your deity or is something they encourage you to do for your wellbeing. Shadow work and journaling are a fundamental aspect of our practice, so we always devote our journaling sessions to Thor and Loki. We also incorporate a lot of trauma work into our practice, especially our trauma related to storms and natural disasters; to honor Thor, we've developed a habit of thanking him anytime it storms where we live and use any moment where we work through our trauma as an offering to him since that's the main reason why he reached out to us.

Baking and cooking: this ties into the point listed above. If you're like us and enjoy working in the kitchen, making food for your deities is a great way to not only build your connection to them but also improve your skills. Thanks to the Internet, it's so incredibly easy to find recipes containing spices and other ingredients that your deities favor. Loki in particular loves it when we try new recipes that we've never made before, even if we're not entirely sure we'll like it.

Taking care of yourself: if you struggle a lot with your physical or mental health, this one is especially important. Sometimes the ultimate form of self care is doing what's best for you even when you don't feel like doing it, whether that's cleaning your room or getting a shower. We've all struggled with self care at some point or another, and the gods understand that. One of the greatest things you can do to honor them is to take care of your needs and be gentle with yourself, because they want what's best for us and understand that life can be a real pain in the ass sometimes. It's not always easy to get out of bed and eat or clean the house, but even baby steps are better than nothing and will make your deities happy all the same.

Giving back to those around you: if you're able to do something in your community that's related to your deity and would honor them, do it! For us personally, one of the biggest ways we honor Loki is to look after the younger neurodivergent and/or queer kids at school, because we've been in their place once and we understand how much of a difference it makes to have someone to look up to. It's common in the Norse pagan community for Loki to be the patron of those deemed to be social outcasts for whatever reason, so we've taken it upon ourselves to always look after our fellow outcasts and be a support for them whenever possible. For many of these kids, we're the first older person they've ever felt safe enough to come out to. And what could honor Loki more than that?

Again, these are all just based on our personal experiences and not all of it may apply to you. We're just sharing some things that we feel may help other folks out there who aren't yet able to be open about their beliefs, because we're in the same spot right now with our current living situation. And for those of you who can unfortunately relate to this: things will change. You won't have to hide such a core part of your being forever. One day you'll be able to openly practice your religion however you want, with nobody to tell you what you are and aren't allowed to believe in. -Blu

#norse paganism #norse pagan #loki deity #deity offerings #offering ideas #devotional #deities #deity work #plural pagans #pagan blog #pagan community #thor deity #thor worship #loki worship #norse heathenry

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nichenarratives · 7 months

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Hurricane Heller 20

A Niche Narratives fanfiction

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20: Breaking Point

It's only November, yet the local stores have swapped their Halloween decorations for the traditional, garish reds and greens of Christmas, for it promises to be a good one. With the pandemic restrictions lifted, rationing rumored to relax in early December and the anniversary of the Great War's conclusion on the horizon, even non-Christian communities are filled with seasonal cheer, leaving New York revitalized, rejuvenated and more proud to be American than ever, even as winter rapidly descends upon the city.

Its residents drawn into an icy grip of freezing rain, sleet and an unerring frost that licks the window panes, Mordecai can at least afford to heat his home properly this year. He burns kindling and coal almost constantly when at home, and his landlady often enters to light his hearth before bed to ensure the apartment is not freezing when he returns. In exchange for that simple kindness, he buys the widower a steady supply of coal, ensuring her pension goes on sustenance and essential fabrics rather than just staying alive.

Kosher meat is more readily available once more, allowing Mordecai to reintroduce some much needed variety into his diet. While still rationed for the time being, a little chicken in his soup makes a world of difference. It adds flavour, texture and additional proteins that allow the tuxedo to regain some of the body mass he lost during the Great War. It also adds to his family's diet, ensuring his mother is as healthy as can be as the weather changes and exacerbates her cough.

Regarding his family and restoring relations, it's a tentative process certainly, but they've made steady progress. Esther and Rose adjusted to his return almost immediately, pulling him back into the comforting rituals of Sunday afternoons in an instant. He spends much of his time being shown Rose's newest sketches - which move from animals, to delicately sketched cityscapes and countryside from their father's old books - or helping Esther with chores around the house as mother rests, the morning service having exhausted her.

Reconnecting with his mother is more difficult. While she's obviously happy to have Mordecai back in their lives, former affections return slowly. It takes months to tease more than single word answers from her, numerous more to move from formal discussion to easier conversation. It was the evening she suggested he lead hamotzi he'd finally felt forgiven, an honour he'd willingly split with Esther from that night on. It's also a relief his mother never mentions returning to Temple or speaks of Nataliya, leaving his associating with the synagogue firmly in the past for their present relationship.

Unfortunately, his Mother's health declines as the seasons change; occasional coughing fits become asthmatic attacks, wheezing and persistent malaise that makes housework or cooking almost impossible to maintain. With an unrelenting schedule, Mordecai relies on Esther in particular to keep the house clean, food on the table and accompany their mother to her copious appointments, feeding back the results as he assists with dinner clean-up every Sabbath.

Regardless of the specialist or tests, the outcomes remains consistent; take medications as prescribed, keep the house clean and when possible, move to a quieter suburb.

The constant re-administering of old advice - coupled with a mounting list of ineffectual yet expensive medications - is an exasperating experience for the entire family, but none more than Mordecai. Moving his family to better housing was the main motivation for a foray into the criminal underworld. Yet nine years later, he has a delightful apartment while they fester in rental purgatory, an incessant onslaught of medical bills constantly chipping away at his hard work until he has to add another month to their intended moving date.

He and Esther talk for hours after Mother and Rose go to sleep, discussing potential short term reparations for their situation. Their landlord won't fix the drafts or the broken kitchen window, an act of unsolved vandalism during the Great War, so they've taped newspaper and cardboard over the hole to act as an insulator. They've similarly insulated leaking window frames with paper, hung up dense curtains donated by a kind Temple member for heat retention, and now keep a window situated at each end of the house barely cracked at all times for fresh air ventilation.

Unable to afford a professional chimney sweep, Mordecai had stripped to his vest and boxers and attempted to clear out the chimney with a broom handle topped with a damp cloth. The mess was immense; a white muzzle ended up indistinguishable from black fur, while his undergarments were so badly stained, they were still gray after four washes and had to be thrown out. The throwback from their next fire was definitely reduced however, well worth a pair of boxers and a vest, when their mother could breathe easier.

After noticing the abundance of mold under the window in his mother's bedroom bringing her some tea a few months prior, he began to dedicate an hour each week to removing the mold in every bedroom, before moving on to the worst offender in the house, the bathroom. The first time he scrubbed it clear of mold, his hands were raw and bloody. He'd gotten lectured by both Esther and his mother into investing in rubber marigolds, which have certainly saved his poor paws from further damage, even if he hates how they feel on his bare hands.

Despite these efforts, his mother's cough moves closer to a suffocating moistness that choked his youngest sister on the stairs that awful night. Esther notices too; when cleaning up tjegtehr, they share a worried glance across the kitchen before glancing at the ceiling, ears straining to hear her wheezing breaths afterwards, seeking reassurance their mother remains alive for another week.

Returning home, Mordecai always counts his savings again each Sunday, willing eighteen months to pass in earnest.

While loath to admit it even to himself, the unerring forward march of her illness has resulted in some unprofessionalism on Mordecai's part. He's short with his own employees, quick to become irritable in adverse conditions, and even less forgiving with the unlucky souls on the receiving end of interrogation. More than once, he's foregone any calculated discussion entirely for physical torture in a quest for swiftee conclusions, the job remaining in his least favourite line of work under Mr Savage's leadership.

Life continues on mostly according to plan though, until just two days before his twenty-first birthday, when Mordecai jolts awake to a banging on his apartment door.

"One moment," he mumbles too softly for anyone to hear, then scrabbles on his bedside table to switch on the lamp. Retrieving his pocket watch, he pops it open and squints at the face a long moment before realizing he can't see without his glass. "Briln," he grumbles to himself, clumsily picks the eyeglasses up and sets them on his muzzle. He then peers at the time with bleary eyes, tilting his head to avoid the awful fingerprints he's just left on the glass to read the face.

3:17am. Mordecai groans and presses his face into a pillow, making his pince-nez wonky in its feathery softness as his arm falls to the mattress beside him. He's been in bed for a few hours, likely only asleep for one and a half. Certainly not long enough to be summoned from slumber and tempted to ignore them and roll back over, it's their desperate nature to eventually encourage the man, begrudgingly, to his feet.

The disheveled tom pulls his robe over striped pajamas and steps into worn slippers, then causally stifles a yawn into a fist while retrieving the Colt from his shoulder holster. Gun in hand, he approaches the door and opens it without thought, the gun hanging at his side more habit than a careful plan. If anyone wanted him dead in that moment, he'd have been a sitting duck in his robe and nightclothes that Sunday night

As luck would have it, there is no threat waiting on the other side of the door, yet it's somehow immeasurably worse to be faced not with a disgruntled, bankrupt client but Rose in just her nightdress and a thin robe, tears staining her cheeks in fresh streaks and body shaking almost violently. The sight is enough to wake Mordecai up entirely, though before a query can leave his lips, Rose has thrown her arms around him and buried her face in his pajama shirt, sobbing hot tears into the fabric without remorse.

Mordecai stands awkwardly, eyes wide and confused, Colt still hanging uselessly at his side while Rose squeezes him tight enough to knock the breath from his lungs. She should not be walking the streets of New York alone at all, let alone at night. She's hardly dressed for the weather, as if she just grabbed the nearest pair of boots and ran soon after waking up, unruly curls escaping from the dual braids uses to keep it from becoming tangled during sleep.

Her attire is as bewildering as her presence, however after a number of seconds have passed, his familial instincts finally return. Bringing the hand holding the gun to rest against her lower back, Mordedai places his other hand on her head in an attempt at reassurance and comfort. It seems effective, as her tears redouble into his shirt, her arms so unnaturally cold to the touch through the thin fabric it makes him frown.

Only then does he finally look up and notice his Mrs Kovitz, his downstairs neighbour and landlady, also standing in the hallway. The elderly woman leans against a wall for support, her face smothered in anti wrinkle cream and frame almost skeletal thanks to the stress of losing both her husband and a son in the war, her palm beneath the opposite elbow to steady her hand as she puffs on a cigarette.

*She say sumzing about motzher going into 'ospital," the elderly woman states between tokes. Her frilly nightgown is like a sea of white on her small frame, making her seem like she doesn't have feet. "I zink it best let her up to speak."

"I appreciate the forethought, Mrs Kovitz," the monochrome tom offers with obvious sincerity on a usually stoic muzzle. He glances down at Rose for a moment, gently stroking the back of her head as she begins to quiet down, before olive eyes rise to meet pale yellows. "Anything with which you require assistance, I would be most-"

She interrupts him with a shoo motion from both hands. "Go be wiv family, narr," she instructs with a sad smile, tired eyes moving to the sniffing girl pressed to his chest. It's her favourite thing to call her peculiar upstairs neighbour, when the man fixates on unimportant things, an affectionate term, even if it sounds somewhat cruel; jester. Mrs Kovitz motions to the girl she hasn't met before. "Time for being man of family, not pester old woman wiv help."

Mordecai nods gratefully before ushering Rose inside, her freezing hands a sure sign her shivering is not just from the expression of intense emotions. She needs a cup of tea to sip while Mordecai finds something suitably warm to pull on over her robe, then they'll go to the hospital together. Until they talk to a professional, Mordecai can only hope there's still something that can be done for his mother's poor health.

oOoOo

Even at six in the morning, the hospital still bustles; around slumbering patients and anxious relatives, nurses move in and out of wards fluidly, taking vitals and checking on their most vulnerable patients with admirable efficiency. Mordecai watches them silently from his chair beside his mother's bed once her cough has been brought under control. Hours flow past for while she and his sisters slumber, he cannot relax. There's no time for rest, not when he has new calculations and risk assessments to run regarding his savings plan.

He reclines in the armchair and stares at the ceiling, fingers entwined in his lap atop a white fedora. With just months left before saving enough to buy them a house, the sudden decline in their mother's health is a kick in the teeth. Doctors expect her to be discharged in three weeks and determined she won't return to a home that's slowly killing her, the time frame for success has significantly reduced to a mere tenth.

This comes with its own slew of problems; there's no way Savage won't notice if Mordecai starts scraping more than one percent off each business under his management. The numbers are simply too high to disguise as unexpected bills or degraded stock, yet Mordecai remains aware his current scheme can't earn the remaining funds in just three weeks, not unless he can exponentially grow his customer base in each consecutive week, unlikely in a post-war climate.

A low wheeze drawing his attention, Mordecai sits up and observes his mother carefully as she struggles to catch her breath, even at rest. The episode thankfully passes just as swiftly as it came when she rolls onto her side, but it's enough to convince Mordecai of his next move; temporarily increasing his embezzlement margins to three percent, and hope he can disguise it well enough to avoid the deception being uncovered.

It's a huge risk, but just two weeks of triple earnings is all he needs to ensure once his mother is discharged, she and his sisters can move into a new home. One without black mold under the windows. I can remain undetected for a fortnight. I have to, for mother's sake.

#lackadaisy #niche narratives #hurricane heller #mordecai heller #lackadaisy cats #fanfiction #tracy j butler #lackadaisy mordecai #fanfic #no beta we die like atlas may #this chapter killed me #but enjoy #please

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