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blingblong55 · 6 months

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Matilda- Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Photo creds:@ave661^

Based on a request:

Ghost finding out his s/o has a bad family, who she doesn’t keep in contact with but talks shit about and is like. Pretty open about how fucking awful her past was? if it’s too much I get it but like- I used to love your angst posts :3 they were so yummy! --- F!Reader, 18+, angst, comfort, family issues/trauma, mentions of SA/rape, mentions of eating disorders, toxic!family, mentions of child abuse, so...trigger warning!! ---

A/N: this is me trauma dumping so I'm sorry if it isn't perfect

Simon knew, he knew well that you weren't so open to starting a family with him for reasons he knew best to respect. But, one day, without him even realising he asked the question, you sat down and told him the story your teary eyes held for so long. As he listened to you explain the stories, he noticed how he wasn't speaking to his wife but to the little girl, his wife once was. The one who was left in a cruel world to people who shouldn't have had kids. "So, they...abused you?" He carefully asked and when he noticed you pause, he knew the answer you didn't. "I...I don't think so," your soft words spoke.

Nothing about the way you were treated seemed especially alarming 'til now

"What I know is that they were mean, evil to me. I was a kid...how was I to know right from wrong so easily?" You held his hand, support you failed to have as a child. Then, you told him the story of a young R/N. "I don't remember the exact age, but I could've been 5 through 8. I was there, he took me to his room, I thought we were going to play and he said we would so would I have known, you know?" Your innocent voice spoke the fear he held. "I don't remember much of that day but in glimpses, if I look too deep, I can see his hands between my thighs, and how he...well...you know," you couldn't explain, it was like a knot in your throat prevented to cause your heart more harm. "And you didn't tell your parents?" His voice is soft. You shake your head, "No, I...as a kid, they never believed what I said," you chuckle out of coping with it all.

"There was one time when my older sister tried to suffocate me, I didn't do anything to deserve it, all I did was watch cartoons and she annoyed me but I knew best and didn't feed into what she wanted from me." You pause and wipe some tears away. Your gaze never fell on his, afraid to break down too easily if you stared at the man who became home to you so long ago. He was that, he was comfort and home and you knew that if you stole one glance, you would be sobbing the stories. Your hand held his tighter, he knew well it was for comfort. "She pressed the pillow tight on my head, I was sick and my stupid lungs couldn't take the fact I had pneumonia, so of course killing me would be easier," you chuckle again. His gaze never left your delicate face and even he had to admit he cried as you told him these stories.

After a long sigh and pause you continue, "I somehow pushed her off me and ran to my parent's room, knocked loud and when my dad opened the door I swore I finally felt safe until I didn't," You know he was ready to ask why but you just laid your head on his shoulder. Looking off into the distance you continued, "My sister told them I pushed her, told her that I hated her, which is not true because hate is strong and she is my sister," you shake your head. "I cried when they didn't believe me, and had a panic attack in their room. and when I backed into a corner as my mother and father yelled at me...that's when they took my sister to the hallway and my mother stayed with me, she tried to hug me but I didn't need none of that...not from her." His hand rubbed your arm, knowing what you needed from him. You wipe some tears away, your breathing hitches and he wraps both arms around you. "I didn't hurt her Simon, I swear I didn't but no one believes me, no one," you whisper the last part. "I know you didn't, my love," he kisses your head and continues to rub your arm.

"I believe you, I'll always believe you before anyone else," he reminds you. "I...my mother gave me water and sent me to my room, told me to just sleep it off," you stop and cry. "Oh my love," he whispers and carries you onto his lap. The pouty frown broke his heart more and more. The cosy home he and you made for the years of your life, warming up his belief that slowly, he will replace all those bad years. The fireplace radiates heat on the snowy winter day. "In this world, I'll always believe you, no matter what, okay, my love?" He looks down and you nod. "That's my girl," he says and places a blanket over you both. "Do you want to continue, my love?" He asks, rubbing your back with his warm touch.

"I do," your voice is small. It was best to open about this and then burn it and let the ashes fly away than to keep it locked in for eyes to see. "I...as I grew up, I knew I had no place in that house. My mother shamed me for my body, and so did everyone in my family." Your head nuzzling onto his chest like a cat finding comfort. "So, I starved myself to be the perfect daughter. I did try to be perfect, I tried to get an I love you, a simple smile or hug." He nods, understanding where you came from. "One time, my mother grabbed my stomach, she told me I was fat and looking back at how I was at that age, I...I was healthy, nothing was ever wrong with me, nothing," you repeat in a whisper.

After a long time of comfortable silence, you speak again. "As I grew older, they made me feel terrible about all of me, how I dressed, if I did my makeup, my hair, my body, the stretch marks that decorated my body, all of it and even I wasn't allowed to have one bad day, not one." He shook his head and in that instant, he understood why all those years of loving you, you always avoided starting a family conversation. You were afraid to be like them, to persist in a cycle of never-ending trauma. He knew you loved him, he knew how much you yearned to be a mum, to watch him and you become parents and do foolish things for and with your child.

"I never understood why I was so insecure over my thighs or why I hated when people touched them, but as I grew older and noticed that I was...you know... I..um.." You could never be admitted, never say you were raped as a child, not when you were scared to acknowledge it again. "I know love," he responds so you don't torture your heart anymore. "But...when I realised what happened to me, that's when it all hit me and there was a time in my young life that I knew I would never forget," you kept holding onto his torso. "It hadn't been long after what that...person...did to me when my mum and sisters pinned me to the ground, they knew then that I disliked people touching my thighs so they pinned me to the ground and touched them," you shake your head, trying to forget the moment. "They...th-they touched my body as I cried and begged for them to stop and not once did anyone stop or help me. My father walked by and he...he just laughed and kept walking...how...how can you do that?" You cried. "How can a parent do that? I was a kid, Simon...a child," you broke down.

"And don't get me started on why I felt like Christmas was just not a happy holiday anymore." Your mind went to a past Christmas, your family yelling, your father accused of his cheating, never denying, just lying and yelling at your mother. You hid in a closet, grabbed headphones and played music loudly. Hours passed and your mother saw fear within her eyes as she cried to you, why can he love me? she asked as she cried, you played strong. Your father drove away, leaving his family scared and cornered in a bathroom, crying as they listened to stories.

"My dad used to hit me, well, my entire family really," you confessed. His eyes widened, he knew they were bad, but not this bad. "My dad had a belt he used to hit me with, my mother and sisters used to watch. One time, they added more fuel to the fire as they told him more lies to get me into more trouble, part of me thinks they loved to watch me cry and get hit." You so innocently say, "When I was a kid and even as I grew older, my mum and dad would hit me and tell me they did it because they loved me." He shook his head, "Never...never in your life do you dare think that way. If I even dare to lift my hand at you, you leave me, my love. Because no matter how much you or I love the other, abuse doesn't equal love," he cups your face. You nod.

You learned one thing from Simon as he listened, that he was calm after the bad storm. He had his troubles, yes, but never would he be like them. He and you healed the other after all those years of a bad life you lived. You and him, sunshine to the other even in the darkest of the night. He has become light and a new beginning. Family. And as you admire the soul who can tell which smiles you are faking, you know that the little girl in you is finally safe. She has packed her dolls and sweater, moved to the countryside, grew up and fell in love with a man. A man who is home, a man who became the grown-up little R/N runs to when scared. For he is home, he is light and he is love. He is your man, your safe place and the one you find comfort in.

I don't believe that time will change your mind In other words I know they won't hurt you anymore as long as you can let them go

"No more," he told you, you looked up at him in confusion. "No more?" you asked and he shook his head. "From this day on, you are not their blood, you are a Riley, you are R/N Riley and never will you be associated with them." He cupped your face. His tone was stern as he tried to make you listen to him. "They are not family, my love. They are strangers you lived with. And me...I am your family, we don't need another shit Christmas, we can...hm...we can have dinner here, or maybe get takeout and watch your favourite movies all day and night. Hey, who knows, maybe that Santa Clause man will come in the night as we sleep and hopefully you've been nice my love because I want him to bring you some good gifts," he chuckles as he cups your delicate face. You laugh a little, "Hey, look who's back, that cute laugh of yours my love," he kisses your lips and pulls you to him, closer than you already were.

You can start a family who will always show you love You don't have to be sorry for doing it on your own

In this lifetime, you will learn many things and you will meet many people. Most of which will come and go. Those who stay, you may ask? Well, they become a family, maybe not a biological one but it's not blood that relates two strangers. It's memories, it's understanding, growing, living and loving. Family is him, family is the old lady or that professor you bonded with. Family is people who make you feel safe and at home. For if you are lucky, in this life you will find your Simon Riley. The person who wraps you in a warm blanket and loves you a little more when you hate the reflection in the mirror. And if you get even luckier, you will find that not only will it be Simon Riley who heals your old wounds and covers them in kisses and caresses. You will find yourself, maybe in ten years, getting covered in glitter, mud, and stickers and having the walls of your home drawn on by Simon's child. The love child that was created on a warm Christmas morning. The same one that wakes you up at six in the morning to go and see what the big red man brought them for Christmas.

And if you are lucky enough, you will find peace. The same one you looked for since age 5, the same one you cried for throughout the years. Maybe it won't come this year, but if you are patient enough, you will find it and when you do, appreciate it because you cried for it many moons ago.

You don't have to be sorry, no

A/N: the tears I shed as I wrote this made a river. Anyway, thank you for letting me dump years of trauma with this one, love you all <3

Tags:

@ghostslillady @liyanahelena @sans-chara @siwwayouu @allaboutirem0 @just3rowsing @mothcelestial @blankk3

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kisses4tom · 3 months

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ᡣ𐭩 UNCLE BILL

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okay so basically Tom had a child with either you or another girl, (we're going to pretend the baby is a girl since I believe Tom would be the BEST girl dad), but nevertheless Bill is an uncle and uhm yeah i think it's adorable

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I swear he'd be the sweetest and most excited uncle everrr 😭

He loves playing with her, especially peek-a-boo, and hear her cute laughs and giggles

He loves to have her around

Loves teaching her things

When Tom told him he would be an uncle he immediately cried tears of joy and was soo shocked and excited to meet the baby!

He's the dream uncle

When shes older he would take her everywhere, especially on shopping sprees!

Spoil her to the core

Litterally a personal babysitter

He would give her what he didn't have growing up (if you read Bill's book, like I have, you'll know)

Loves cuddling and kissing her

Would tickle her a lot

He's always recording and taking pictures of her!

Give her baths and put her in cute clothes all the timeee

Since him and Tom are very close, he would always be at Tom's house to help him, but mostly to spend time with the baby 🤭 (though he wouldn't admit it)

Would give her a shout-out on stage if she's at a concert

Whenever Tom drops her off at his house, he'd come running to the car door and take her out of the car seat himself without even looking at Tom beforehand, "Oh my Goodness come here!! I missed you so much! we need to tell daddy to bring you here more often huh?"

He would hold her and spin around while kissing her cheek

Baby voicesss

He loves to get called "uncle Billy"

When she's older he would listen to her all the time and give her advice

He wouldn't let anybody hurt or say anything wrong about her

He would make sure she knows her worth and to always be herself, without listening to what others say

He'd dedicate her songs! (write and dedicate her favorites on stage: "this is for my niece!", if that makes sense)

When she's visiting he would make sure it tops the last visit everytime!

Loves pushing her stroller

He would make sure everyone knows she's his baby niece

Loooves when people ask about her in interviews

He treats her as his own baby and is more than proud of her and her father

He refers as a cool aunt more than uncle, or a second dad

You can always count on him

Loves feeding her

He would try to teach her to say "uncle Billy"

His heart is always full whenever she's around

Very careful and gentle

Swears her smile is his

Loves to put her hair in pigtails or cute/funny hairstyles

The first time he met her it was like love at first sight for him and he couldn't hold back tears when he first held her, "she's here forever! she's ours! and she's tinyyy"

He would never stop admiring her

He would let her do his hair and make-up

They have a great bond

Omg uncle-niece datesss

When the baby was just born at the hospital, he wouldn't stop congratulating the parents and telling them how cute and perfect she is

He would make a gift basket with all the essentials!

And he would go home late after spending the entire day at the hospital

You could never separate him from her everytime he's holding her, "no! you have her all the time, let me hold her now."

He would teach her how to walk

Would give her rewards after everything she does

You get the vision right? 🥹🫶🏻

#bill kaulitz #gustav schäfer #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #tokiohotel #tom kaulitz #headcanon #wattpad story #uncle tommy

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blade-that-was-broken · 24 days

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Well there’s child that bites that’s Bruce jr I believe, there is the one that got stuck in the ketchup bottle that one is also real hyperactive so maybe HC those two as twins make em identical nightmare children. I saw a fanfic where one of Bruce’s kids was like super allergic and intolerant to practically everything which causes problems cause Bruce owns a restaurant. And of course there is anarchist daughter. You should definitely give Bruce and brandy at least one pair of twins or triplets to justify him eventually having like 8-9 kids by the time he’s like 40ish.

Thanks for the ideas! Since we basically know nothing about them and most of them I don't even think have names at this point (?) it can be kinda of difficult. Bruce was about 13 when their parents divorced and it has been about fifteen years so Bruce is only about 28 at this point. He's not done having kids but he's got several already.

"Those two are twins, Jr. likes to bite," Bruce grimaced a little as he showed John some pictures. Brandy insisted on driving back home, even though Bruce said he could do it. He wasn't sure what her game plan was but she wasn't taking no for an answer. John just silently looked at whatever Bruce showing him at any given time and didn't seem to mind the rant and chatter. "And his twin is really... hyperactive. I love them to death but wow, they are everywhere, you have no idea."

"I can probably fix the biting," John replied.

He'd been doing that, insisting he could help or fix things or whatever. Bruce really wasn't sure what to make of it. His first instinct had been thinking that John thought there was something wrong with his kid that needed to be fixed and that made him upset. Sure, Jr. shouldn't be biting and they would work on that but he wasn't some broken thing to be fixed.

John said everything so plainly and Bruce couldn't really determine his meaning.

But he kept telling himself that John wasn't exactly himself either. The doctors said he would probably come back to himself. He just didn't really know who his brother was anymore.

"Uh... this one is allergic to pretty much life in general, especially cats, for some reason?" he said, flipping through the photo. "Which is tough because out neighbor loves cats and well... he's been kind of taking a liking to them too."

"Feed him eggs from a farm with barn cats," John replied.

"Uh... what?"

John looked up at him and tilted his head a little. Bruce had to take a moment to take that in. Clay did the same thing. Geez, how was he going to tell everyone else? He'd figure that out later.

"Helps with allergies."

"Okay...? It can be difficult with the restaurant since there is a bunch of stuff he's allergic and intolerant of but we are working on a medication regiment. And he's not really supposed to be around the kitchen anyways," he continued, trying to keep things normal but his speech just kept getting quicker and more excited. "They are going to love you. They have always wanted an uncle living close by. I know technically you don't have to stay out here but it is the best and you have an in!"

"An... in?"

"Me!" Bruce nodded with a grin. "I can get you set up with a fantastic place when you are recovered, if you want. You can stay with us as long as you want, I just know a lot of people tend to be independent so I thought hey, maybe he'd want a little place on the beach or something instead but then again, we haven't really seen each other in..."

"Alright, honey," Brandy interrupted. "You are getting a little excited."

"Where else would he go? We are by far the most financially stable and it's Hawaii for heaven's sake. People would kill to live here. There can't possibly be anywhere better. He doesn't even have an address."

Brandy just shot him a slight glare in the rearview mirror.

"Uh, he's right... uhm about the address thing," John confessed. "If I needed to spend my leave off base, I usually just found a camping spot or stayed with one of my squad."

Brandy's face twisted into something interested and possibly mischievous. John wouldn't have been able to catch it but Bruce definitely could. "Oh! We would love to hear about them! You must be very close."

"We are," John shrugged, lightly. "Might as well be family at this point. Kinda curated an orphans, losers and runaways club. Or in my case, all three," he chuckled.

It was the first time Bruce heard any sound that could possibly be classified as vague amusement from John, although Bruce wasn't entirely sure if it was genuine. He knew one thing; he didn't really like the type of humor.

"Except for Chaz, he's just a fool," John snorted. "They wouldn't let me get rid of him."

"What about the others?"

"Dickory is one of the best. He's very cunning but you can count on him even in strange plans. Pete is retired, not that you'd ever know he was there in the first place. Barely said a word. We useta call him Growly Pete cause that's generally how he was."

Okay. Best friend. Crotchety old man. This was okay. This seemed normal.

"Tresillo... hasn't been with us long but he's shaping up to be a good kid. Needed some discipline but considering his parents weren't exactly in the picutre, I get where he's comin from. He's grown a lot in the time that he's been with us, we're really proud of him."

Brandy glanced at Bruce again. He knew what she was thinking.

He wasn't going to think about it.

"Anyone else?" she asked.

He listed off a few more. "And then... and then Delta."

"Oh! Who is Delta?" Brandy asked with a smile.

"She's mah girl."

His what?

"My partner in crime, the law, whatever you wanna call it," John replied, rubbing his arm and looking out the window. "Go-to gal, best friend, right hand man or I'm hers, whatever you got, it's us. By some miracle the military thought it best to keep us stationed together. She ain't crazy but probably a good choice on their part."

"So, I suppose we will be seeing her visit sometime?"

"I'll haveta call her sister and see what all happened after well, this," John shrugged. "But maybe. It used to be where you found one of us, you wouldn't find the other far behind. I dunno how that'll be now. Things are different, but uhm... I'm hopin' she''ll come around sometime.''

#ask #soldier on au #i lost a whole page sobs #so I don't really remember what JD said about Tresillo and Delta and had to start over #I'm really sad about it

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choke-me-joey · 1 year

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okay how about Joe telling you he wants kids for the first time 🥺

like you guys are already married and you’re visiting family and he sees the way you interact with your niece/nephew and he has the talk with you later that night??

STOP 🥺😭 this is so cute omg I'm so soft for this. I hope this was okay!!

Let me know if you want me to write the baby making part 😈

Your arm was dead, so very dead and numb, maybe slightly fizzy, but very dead.

But my god you didn't want to put your new nephew down, no matter how hefty he was. Your gaze was fixed upon his little sleeping face as your brother Nick, they baby's dad, was telling you, your husband Joe and your parents the birth story as this was the first time you'd all been able to get together since the baby's birth.

"-9lbs, 9oz he was! Couldn't bloody believe it, Becky was exhausted, weren't you babe?" Your brother grins at his wife who, bless her, looks absolutely shattered. No wonder, she'd only given birth a week ago. "And, oh, Joe, mate, just a heads up, the placenta comes out after the baby, it's like they give birth twice!"

"Twice?!" Joe looks a little horrified as he wrenches his attention away from you and the baby to stare at your brother. You roll your eyes. Becky gives your brother a gentle kick, silently telling him to knock it off.

Your mum, a godsend, senses the unease and asks Joe to give her a hand in the kitchen for a minute. Your husband, ever the people pleaser, kisses the top of your head as he follows her out of the room. You glare at your idiot brother.

"Thank you, Nicholas, we hadn't even talked about kids yet and you're already scaring the shit out of him." You hiss, taking the bottle that Becky was holding out for you to feed the baby with. You switch arms, settling your nephew once more before holding the teat to his tiny mouth. He happily accepts it.

"What? I'm just preparing him!"

"Preparing him would be more like telling him what brand of conception vitamins you used, babe, not what organs are going to fall out of his wife when she births their child." Becky sighs, leaning back on the sofa massaging the bridge of her nose.

Your brother shrugs. "Well, look at Y/N, she's a natural, Joe doesn't have anything to be worried about!" He shoots you a smile as you place a muslin cloth over your shoulder before burping your nephew. You had tons of experience with babies, your other brother having had 2 kids and you were the only one in your close friendship group to not yet have a kid or two, not that it bothered you.

Your nephew finishes his bottle and brings up his wind like an angel, so in theory he should have gone to sleep. Until he didn't. And started to get pissy about it.

"Well, don't get cross at me, you just gotta close your eyes, baby." You say gently, standing up and walking around the living room, gently rocking and shushing him. Joe and your mum come back into the living room with some food and drinks for everyone, and whilst your brother, Becky and your mum and dad are chatting amongst themselves, Joe can't take his eyes off of you.

You're still rocking your nephew, alternating between shushes and soft words, smiling down at him as you do so. Joe feels his chest tighten, but not in a way that he felt before meeting thousands of people at a con, or filming a new project. This was...different. You catch his eye as your nephew has finally drifted off in your arms and smile at him, and he can't help but grin back, falling head over fucking heels again for you, his beautiful wife.

The one he wanted to mother his children.

"So, where are you on the whole having kids thing?" Joe suddenly blurts out later that evening as you're wrapped in a blanket on the sofa together, full of Chinese and a couple of glasses of wine.

"Hm?" You gaze up at him from his lap, a confused frown on your face. Joe hadn't really spoken about having children much. His career was sky rocketing and he barely had time to be with you, let alone mini versions of you. You'd be married for 2 years and the topic of kids had only come up a handful of times, although never directly from him. "Well, you know I want them babe, but I'm happy to wait until you're ready."

"What if...what if I said I was ready now?" Joe said, gazing down at you and running his fingers through your hair. You sit up, facing him.

"Really?" You asked, unable to hide your grin. Joe shifts so he's facing you, taking your hands in his.

"Yeah, really. Been thinking about it for a while actually but today, seeing you with the baby and how good you were with him...God you just looked so happy and comfortable, you know? Honestly it made me fall in love with you all over again."

"Aw, Joey," you pout, squeezing his hands. He leans over and kisses you softly. "So, you wanna have a baby? Like, right now?"

"Picked up some of those conception vitamins your brother recommended when I ran into Tesco earlier, got some for you too." Joe shoots you a sly grin. "I've already taken mine so..."

"I'll meet you in the bedroom in 5?"

"Let's go make a baby, darling."

#joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn blurb #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn fic #kats moots 🥰#my girl angel 🥰

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lovelybunn · 11 months

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lgbtqia+ headcanons !ㅤㅤ– feat. stan, kyle, cartman, kenny, n butters !

warning(s): swearing, some homophobic themes, slight mention of sex

author's note: since its gay month, wanted to post this (and its been rotting in my drafts) so here yall go, ya skittles !!!!

stan marsh .

he/him –ㅤㅤhis parents have taught him (mostly randy) that there are only two genders, female and male, and he identifies as cis. so if you tell him you use any pronouns other than she/her or he/him, and/or ask him for his pronouns, he'll look at you funny. although, he'll try and respect them anyway.

bisexual –ㅤㅤwhen he first met wendy, of course he thought he was straight, but then he started gaining weird feelings for kyle that he couldn't explain. so of course, with the help of useless buzzfeed quizzes and google, that's when stan found out that he's bisexual.

demisexual –ㅤㅤeven when stan hit puberty, he never was interested in the topic of sex in general. one time kenny showed him one of his magazines, and he didn't even bat an eye. of course, as he got older it was a lot more appealing, but he felt like sexual attraction was pretty much pointless. he rarely will refer to himself as "demi", though.

ㅤ

kyle broflovski .

he/they –ㅤㅤkyle has never felt quite whole with the labels "boy", "male", etc... he had always felt there was more to it, he just never took the time to really think about it. he found out what he was missing while walking to class. two openly queer kids had complimented his outfit for that day, "man, i love that dude's shirt!" "yeah, they're totally rocking that fit!" those simple words sparked a sense of euphoria deep inside kyle's core, yet, since he knew up to nothing about queer culture at the time, he couldn't figure out why. after school he did some extensive research on his situation, finally giving a label to how he was feeling. kyle broflovski was a demi-boy.

bisexual, masc leaning –ㅤㅤkyle never thought too much about his romantic/sexual preferences, he was too studious to even have something like that on his mind. although, one day at school stan had shown up with his hair dyed blond. kyle's poor heart pounded so hard he started sweating.. he had always thought almost every girl was pretty, but that day made him realize that boys could be pretty too.

ㅤ

eric cartman .

he/him –ㅤㅤhe has a male superiority complex so bad and he thinks "pronouns" and "more than two genders" is dumb ("my pronouns are U/S/A *bald eagle screeching*")

homophobic closeted homosexual –ㅤㅤhave y'all seen the gay ass shit he's pulled on kyle? that boy is obviously in denial. but he uses the word "gay" as an insult, so of course he's homophobic.

secretly a drag queen –ㅤㅤremember when he wore that cheetah/leopard print shirt and embarrassed his mother on live television? yeah, and the time he wore that blond wig? he has an entire closet dedicated to his craft. more than once has he walked around his room in full drag acting like he's walking down the runway. (he can't do makeup for shit tho...)

ㅤ

kenny mccormick .

he/she/they –ㅤㅤidk, kenny just gives very enby vibes. he doesn't mind being referred to as "he/she", it's just they like being perceived as androgynous. kenny is a #1 "clothes have no gender" believer.

pansexual –ㅤㅤthere have been many times in the show itself that point to kenny liking more than one gender, and them being bi doesn't really work and neither does omni, cuz they don't really have a preference, pan is the best assumption.

ㅤ

butters scotch .

any pronouns –ㅤㅤ"oh, you use xe/xem? me too!" this lil child just loves collecting pronouns like pokémon cards, butters' autism feeds on it. a lot of times, if someone tells him that they use a pronoun that she hasn't heard of, that shit will get snatched so fast, it's not even funny.

gender-fluid –ㅤㅤy'know how butters was misdiagnosed with multiple personality disorder? yeah, that was just them flowing between genders. one day butters will feel extremely masculine, the next hyper-feminine, and the next neither or both. sometimes he'll even switch within a day, it depends.

polyamorous –ㅤㅤbutters is very open both romantically and platonically. he believes there is no such barriers or limits to love, that love should be given to everyone fully and freely, without discrimination. ( + more people, more cuddles !!!)

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moodmother · 11 months

Text

They's a Crowd

In between sips of macchiato, Zenith types away furiously. Oh this, this is a good one. The latest post for their blog, They's a Crowd. An invective against the oppressive tyranny of romantic love and family bonds.

"Do you really believe that?"

Zenith never saw the stranger sit down, but there he is on the other side of the table. Meticulous strawberry beard, sharp twinkling eyes. A sudden faint whiff of heather and iron in the air.

"What?"

"All that. That your friends should prioritize you over their lovers and children."

There is no way for the stranger to have seen what Zenith is writing but they are caught up in the righteous heat of their conviction. "It's about economies of care! How am I supposed to survive." In their fervor, Zenith almost spills coffee onto the keys of their MacBook.

"Indeed."

"Last week, I was feeling depressed so I texted my supposed 'best friend' to see if we could hang out. But he had promised his wife that he would take her out to the movies. Well, fair enough. So I asked if I could come along--and he said 'No!' Well, what about my social needs? Just because she's his 'wife,' just because he's bound by the patriarchal institution of marriage, he can treat me like I mean nothing? And just last night, I didn't have the spoons to make myself dinner. I put out a message in the group chat, but of course you know what day it was."

"Mother's Day."

"Right! So nobody would come by and cook me a simple meal, because they were all having dinner with their mothers instead. I had to go hungry, because our heteropatriarchal culture arbitrarily values parent-child relationships over non-biological kinship."

"I see. And you couldn't have just gotten UberEats or something?"

Zenith scoffs. "I'm supposed to pay more to live because I'm single and don't have anyone to care for me? And you know those delivery apps are so exploitive. It's better to order from the restaurant directly. But then I would have to call for delivery, and I have social anxiety."

"Oh, well, of course. So what you're saying is, it's important to the cause of queer liberation that the lives of everyone in your social circle revolve around you."

Zenith's brow furrows. "Well, I--"

"Would you say that you desire that? For your friends to prioritize you above all else? To care for you, feed you, cater to your every need? Do you…wish it?"

"Well, yes! My life is just as--"

But with a Cheshire cat smile and a twinkle of his pale gray eyes, the stranger has vanished.

+++

That evening, Zenith receives a text from their best friend: come over for dinner tonight?

When Zenith obliges, both their friend and his wife are all smiles. "Oh, don't get up Zenith. Let me get that for you. Have some more. You know we really love you, Z. We haven't shown it enough. You mean the world to us, we really need to prioritize you more. Have some more. Let me get you some more."

Zenith goes home grinning, stuffed to the brim with food and love.

+++

The next day, all of Zenith's friends turn up at their door.

"We've all been talking, Z. We wanted to tell you in person: You're the most important thing in our lives. It's time we acted like it."

From then on, Zenith is hardly ever alone--except when they ask for a little time to themself, of course. Someone is always ready to lend an ear, or join them on the couch or on a walk or even in bed when they require some company. Their every need is promptly and lovingly met. Their bed is made, their clothes and linens washed and folded. Their apartment is swept and scrubbed. Appointments are scheduled for them, and they are ferried dutifully to the doctor, the dentist, the store, the cafe, to where-ever they wish. The dishes are done--done often, as there is always a home-cooked spread at mealtime, and always a snack or morsel whenever Zenith feels the slightest bit peckish.

Zenith is never hungry for more than a moment--and this has a dramatic affect on their waistline.

Outgrowing my clothes! they post to their blog. Hot fatty summer!

+++

When Mother's Day comes again the following year, all of Zenith's friends' mothers turn up, smiling and tutting. Each one prepares a dish, her specialty, and insists that a now very fat Zenith accept second and third helpings.

When clothes that fit become very hard to find, Zenith's friends are happy to make some.

When it becomes too difficult to climb the stairs up to their apartment, everyone pitches in to rent a new one. A ground floor unit with nice, wide doorways.

When initimate personal care becomes impossible for Zenith to tend to on their own, there is a rotating roster of volunteers ready to bathe and dress them.

As Zenith steadily expands, caring for them becomes more logistically complex, a full time affair. Spouses, lovers, and relatives are enlisted to join in the work. Always happily, always with a smile. "We love you, Z. Anything for you."

Perhaps things are getting a bit out of hand… Zenith thinks, fleetingly. It is a bit inconvenient, as the wider world is not made for people who are as large as Zenith has become. But then a twinge of hunger distracts them, and they reach for whatever treat--a cookie, a brownie--is always there at hand, piled tidily on a platter, warm from the oven.

+++

In the midst of Thursday night board games, a timer dings.

"Whose turn is it to check Zenith?"

The designated attendant happily jumps up and bounds into the bedroom. "Need anything Z? Some more water?" "Unnh," a thick voice groans in reply.

Propped up on the bed, covering the entire surface from edge to edge, is a huge heap of flesh. Pampered and stuffed day in and day out, Zenith has grown too fat to move under their own power. Their world is confined to the four walls of the bedroom now.

"Thirsty?"

A cup of fresh water is held to their lips so that they can drink. Their friend has to lean close against their side to reach their face where it rests upturned atop the mound of their body. Deep within their immense belly, their stomach growls.

"Ah, hungry!"

Zenith's mind rebels. Their round, useless hands twitch in impotent protest. But their body responds by opening their mouth to welcome the morsels that are gently pushed into it. Because it's true: they are hungry. So very hungry. Their stomach has been stretched to cavernous capacity. Their body has grown accustomed to a constant stream of food, and it has been over an hour since they last ate.

Tears pool atop their great flabby cheeks as they are fed, eating and eating until temporarily sated again. This is their existence now. Washed and petted and lovingly tended to. Fed. Fed and fed and fed, helpless to do anything now except eat and grow.

Once they are finally satiated, for the time being, their friend cleans their teeth and wipes their face. The bedframe creaks ominously.

+++

"Hey, I think Z is lonely in there."

"Hm. Makes sense. I wish they could join us out here, or that we could all fit together around a table."

"They deserve to literally be at the center of a space, since they're the center of our lives. You know? Right in the heart of everything."

"It's definitely something to think about."

From the bedroom comes a CRACK and a thud and a pitiful, muffled yelp. Everyone leaps up and rushes in to soothe and settle their beloved. The bedframe has collapsed beneath the burden of Z's immense and ever-climbing weight.

+++

They've dubbed themselves the Z Crew, and so the new place is called the Z House. A nice big house, with the first floor built on an open plan.

They moved Z into their new, permanent home just in the nick of time. Had they waited much longer, Z would have grown too large to move. As it was, transporting them was an expensive and delicate affair. Hydraulic equipment was needed to lift Z off of the flattened mattress in the old apartment. Walls were removed, a crane and flatbed rented.

But in the end, it all went smoothly. Now, here in the airy, light-filled space, rests their beloved Z. The living heart of the home.

The Z Crew is always happy to chatter and coo at Z while they go about the unceasing work of feeding, washing, and tending their beloved, but Z themself cannot speak anymore. They have swelled into a monstrous blob. By now their weight is unguessable. Their hands and feet and limbs have long since disappeared into their general mass. There is no neck, no discernable head--only eyes, nose, and mouth sunk deep into a mire of flesh, upturned toward the ceiling. Lips always parted, ready to receive the next morsel of food.

The Z Crew has to climb up on top of Z to feed them now. The slopes of Z's body have become a cherished communal space, where friends recline and talk, lovers cuddle, and games and meals are enjoyed. They are all blissfully content, now that Z has crowded out every other care and commitment and become the center of their lives forever.

As for Z, they have forgotten what it was like to be anyone or anything else other than their friends' burgeoning beloved. They know nothing but fleeting hunger and sweet satiety; the shifting warmth of their friends' bodies against their own bulk; and the inescapable sensation of their own unfathomable weight.

#xwg #weight gain fiction #extreme weight gain #body growth #body expansion #moodmother #weight gain story

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nancypullen · 5 months

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Merry Everything and a Happy Whatever

Well, I cam back from Florida with just a couple of days to prepare for the onslaught of Christmas and promptly got sick. The virus that my sister had, some respiratory thing, definitely not a common cold, took me out at the knees. I slogged through the grocery store with my long list (I wore a mask!) and hauled home enough to feed an army. Everyone arrived on the 22nd and I made a dinner of pork carnitas, tortillas, and all the toppings. Rice and beans rounded out the meal and the whole gang was satisfied. The next night was a rotini and meatball bake, extra cheesy. And so it went. I was Typhoid Mary in the kitchen, coughing up a lung, and you'd think spreading disease. Would you believe that not a single person caught it? I'm just now feeling human again and no one else is even sniffling. I have to admit that the Christmas dinner was not my best. I kept forgetting to set timers. The turkey was dry (and I pride myself on juicy roasted birds!), the sweet potato casserole was not quite set, and I left the rolls in too long. I felt like a failure, but everyone ate and no one died.

Christmas was merry, Santa was sure good to all of us - especially a certain little girl. My boys spoil me absolutely rotten, to the point of making me feel guilty. I always cry and act like a doofus because I still see those sweet little boys of mine, and I want them to save their money for themselves. I should be proud that they're both doing so well and are so kind, but I just feel guilt. I'm not worthy! I'm sure a psychologist could have a field day with my thoughts. Anywayyyy, even though I was sick as a dog, it was wonderful to have everyone together. I felt like apologizing for not being more fun. I hate it that Matt flew all the way home and we didn't even play our usual rounds of Song Quiz or go on an adventure. In summary, Christmas was wonderful because my family is wonderful. The Edgewater parents had to go back to work, so we kept Little Miss for a three extra days since she's out of school. She helped me take all of the decorations off the tree (I knew she was dying to get her hands on those ornaments) and we collected all of the Santas, deer, and holiday knick-knacks from around the house. Between the two of us we got Christmas packed away and everything tidied up. Turns out child labor is beneficial. We took her to see Migration and she giggled all the way through. She dressed herself for the movie and I didn't fight it. Better to be overdressed than underdressed, right?

We handed her over yesterday afternoon and I came home and told Mickey that I was takin' to the bed. I don't think I moved for twelve hours. I didn't do much today either. I need to rest up for our big New Year's Eve festivities.

Yeah, I can't say that with a straight face. We have NO plans. I wouldn't go if we did. I don't even have a dinner planned for us. Usually Matt gets to stay through New Year's Eve and I do a buffet of appetizers. We may be eating tuna sandwiches on paper plates. Sounds like I've given up, doesn't it? Lawdy, I'm just tiiired.

Anywho, I survived and thankfully the family seems to have missed my contagious stage. I'd feel really awful if they'd all taken this nasty virus home. Glad it ended with me, good riddance to it. I'm thinking about what my word for 2024 will be and I'm just not sure. Last year I chose the word flourish. I chose it because I was so unhappy here, couldn't seem to make a friend, etc. I was determined to take control and make this my home. I should have chosen a different word. I tried, good grief how I tried. I'm an Army brat, I'm not shy about meeting people or being in new places. I've taken classes, gone to functions, reached out to others, even gone out a couple of times with some local ladies. Apparently I'm still undesirable. I did apply for and finally get a job at the library, so maybe that will help. If nothing else I'll make a little money while the local population rejects me.

Might as well make the best of it. Maybe my word for the new year will be acceptance. It is what it is. I'd rather my word be winner, as in lottery. Did you see that Powerball jackpot? Whew! I'd be outta' here so fast. With that kind of cash I could still see Little Miss every week. Fancy Grancy could jet in for gymnastics practice and dinner. Crossing all my fingers. I'll save one for Denton though.

Maybe that's the cold meds talking. Or not. I've whined my way through this blog post, so I'll end this little pity party. Just wanted to get you all caught up before we hang a new calendar. I'll think about my word for 2024 and get back to you. Anyone else choosing one? I've seen folks opting for simplify, balance, courage, gratitude...in what direction are you hoping to steer your next 365 days? We've passed the winter solstice and we're gaining sunlight every day, let's walk into the sunshine and choose happiness this year. I've always found happiness in small things - a pretty sunset, bird song, little green shoots in the spring. Tomorrow I'm going to get a whole bunch of tulip bulbs (a gift!!) in the ground. I'm planting hope. There's always hope, right? Alright, I'm off to soak in a bubble bath and read the latest Lisa Jewell book. I was on a library waitlist for months and so far it's been worth it. I downloaded it on my new Christmas KIndle. The Pullen men hate it that I'll use the same technology for a decade (my old Kindle worked fine, just didn't hold a charge like it used to). There you have it. It's over. Ladies, we decorated, shopped, wrapped, cooked, and spread joy like chicken pox. The lull between Christmas and the new year celebrations is a welcome relief. Rest if you can, recharge. You've earned it. Sending out loads of love tonight. Stay safe, stay well. XOXO, Nancy

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night-wyld-system · 11 days

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How is it possible that your parents didn’t know about the abuse you suffered ?

It's a mix. Either they know for real and many of my friends and my therapist are right about me just having cognitive dissonance out of pure hope that they didn't do this to me. That they couldn't have possibly done this to me. (At least when it comes to my mother considering she was friends with adults who trafficked their own children and many other survivors I'm in contact with have mentioned seeing her and suspect she's more involved). But it was also a cult.

A cult which separated all the parents from the children consistently in order to have better access to children for indoctrination and unfortunately trafficking. A cult that my mother (as much as I have mixed feelings about her) was also a victim of along with my father when he was around and present there and my brother.

My father may or may not know, if he knew he was the one who got my family away from the abuse and it would have been a purposeful move rather than just dumb luck. If that is in fact the case I will be incredibly relieved... however his occupation complicates things. The reason he rarely was home and I was left with my abusive mother as a child was because of said occupation. He sometimes would be gone for months at a time. And truthfully with my parents being divorced now and me catching an affair by accident when I was 13, I wouldn't be surprised if he also had a different woman he was with behind my mom's back. It's not that he doesn't or didn't love me or my brother, it's that my mother abused not only us but our father and he's too traditional to comprehend a woman abusing a man. Him being gone so often meant he literally was not present for my abuse I'm fact as far as I can recall I was abused less when he was around because people knew he was willing to go above and beyond to help me and my brother. But still even when he wasn't on trips he worked a 9 to five an hours drive away from home. And my mom still dropped me and my brother off at the cult multiple times a week, and left us there.

My mother who was present on top of possibly being involved... was excessively neglectful to the point I learned how to cook as a five year old out of necessity because often she did not feed me and my brother enough. I was easily manipulated with food which is why my friends older brothers were able to kidnap me for a few hours by offering an apple. I am very lucky I got out in a few hours, their mother came home and seeing the kid of someone you know is possibly violent (my father) is kidnapped by your own children who are teenagers- you sorta freak out. My mom never even noticed or cared, when I came home crying she told me to shut up because she was working.

Even if she wasn't involved it's possible she was so inattentive that she never noticed. Considering I had already likely developed DID by this point or at the very least a dissociative disorder that lead to dissociative amnesia and I was quite literally too young to comprehend what was happening, I never said anything. And even if I did why would she believe me, why would she care? She didn't care when I was kidnapped and she consistently brings up a time she "looked away for a few seconds" from me as a toddler and next she knew I was covered in blood streaming from my back and I seemed completely unaware it was there- as a funny story.

She neglected us so much our neighbor went to her to tell her she was neglecting us too much and my mom just considered her as being too nosy.

She noticed something shifted in me at one point, she knew I went from being talkative and bubbly to distant and silent after preschool but she never put two and two together. I was just... always ignored sort of. It took the school contacting my mom after it was found out I was cutting myself in 6th grade for me to even start therapy in the first place and when I was tested I was terrified of getting positive on PTSD without even understanding why. By then my system had someone in place terrified of us ever being found out so he purposefully games the system to make us not get diagnosed with anything but even then he failed and we got diagnosed with ADHD and depression.

A part of people in our life not knowing what happened was us keeping that secret. And it's also in part because many of my alters are still deeply infatuated with one of our traffickers. So much so we had a breakdown when we found out he had most likely been killed. We were happy and also sad, the person who took the place of our absent father and forced us to see him as our first love who groomed us for years and beat us, scarred us, and raped us over and over who was always proud about us who called us his favorite and showed us off to the other traffickers who flew out to the hub as a prize, is gone forever. We can't get justice fully, but he also can't hurt us. That fucked us up immensely.

When we finally told a therapist everything (around maybe February of 2023) when we realized for sure we needed to get checked for DID we were forced to realize that the idea of what we saw as the most attractive man was just our abuser and for years we had been writing fantasies about what he had done to us and wanting to stay with him because he broke us that much. The reason I sometimes confused my dad's appearance with something he was not was because I was thinking of this man. The main leader of that ring. The "imaginary friend" I had as a kid that I called "monster" was never imaginary. He was a trafficker.

I kept denying it was possible I was trafficked I convinced myself it was just one time. But then I remembered more and unlike usual I wrote it down and so another alter later remembered too and we tried and tried to convince ourselves we were lying. But our therapist told us she thought we had been trafficked before we even brought it up, we begged her to tell us we were crazy we want to be someone with factitious disorder I don't want it to be true but she wouldn't because we weren't making things up.

It took meeting others that had been involved to accept that it happened. I've had so many other fighters recognize me that I can't deny it as much as I want to. There are people I know who I am in CSEM films with, who confirmed details of memories I hoped I was wrong about. I asked them things like what hairstyles people had exact colors, locations, specific structures and looks and let them answer before telling them what I remembered and it was the same every time. It's fucking horrific. I had one tell me to check somewhere on my body in specific and... I was terrified but I did. And there was a scar from when I was stabbed. And that was the one that just fucking broke me. I'm shaking even now remembering that. There's a reason DID includes amnesia. That reason is to keep people from dying from shock or similar mental turmoil. It was so overwhelming that I was physically incapable of handling it. So my brain made multiple people different states caused by different types of abuse and different types of trauma. States that had amnesia between them so I wouldn't remember so I wouldn't die. There's a reason why abusers especially cultists and traffickers will induce DID in children, it makes them easy to control and it makes it easy to hide crimes.

He knew how to cause DID in people, I already had the ground work for it with my unstable home life and he probably caught me dissociating once or twice. He forced alters to split off through torture. And whenever I was bleeding or bruised my mom just assumed it happened while she locked me outside for hours a day or didn't even care. Or maybe she did know, and I keep telling myself she can't because I don't want her to. I don't want that, but I guess I'll know soon regardless due to the fact I'm taking things to law enforcement with the help of my therapist. And I'm going to be forced to acknowledge that either way my parents failed me.

It's part of why I'm so terrified to tell them. I'm scared of what might happen to me if one of them was in fact involved.

#vent #system #ramcoa vent #ramcoa tw #ramcoa #cult tw #trafficking tw #child abuse #csa tw #neglect tw

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yeyinde · 9 months

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I feel you'd have the best catholic!Jason todd ideas.

I do have a lot of thoughts about this! (and immediately my mind went to hot priest!Jason Todd so I guess it's time to re-read the priest comic...). I like the idea of Jason having an empty relationship with Catholicism the most, so I went with this one.

Maybe he was "raised" Catholic, but it was performative. It wasn't the, "we're a perfect example of what a Catholic family should be" pantomime, but a parasitic one. Exploitative. Meaningless and hollow except for what it could do for them. And maybe it looks good on paper for Child Protective Services.

Maybe there's a cross on the wall but was picked up at a yard sale, and is covered in dust. A ratty bible is on the table, but when you look closer, you realise it's missing pages and scribbled in. Circular holes are burned into the cover (the same ones found all along the old couch, in blankets. Mattresses). They don't pray, but they go to church when they serve food. Saves money on groceries, doesn't it? So, why not. Jason sat at the back (and maybe he tried to listen, to pay attention) while his mum nodded off in the pew, and made fun of the whole thing, at all the rich people in their Sunday Best, only to smile at the priest when he came to greet them.

Some Catholic schools serve their students lunch and snacks, and all you have to do to be admitted it is get baptised. His mum might have dragged him to the church to do so because it meant she didn't have to spend money on feeding him lunch every day. Maybe the only time he ever really ate a whole meal was during school. It cuts the cost of clothes, too, since most Catholic schools require a uniform.

I like the idea of Jason trying to be religious. Maybe he prays during dinner one night but his dad mocks him for it. He never does it in front of them again.

Jason grows up in this limbo where his parents exploit it for their own gain, but he wants to believe. And maybe he does. But it doesn't last long. Not when at school they teach him about gods infinite mercy. How he knows all. But if that's true, how come he never answers Jason's prayers late at night with his pillow muffling his cries? How come he's ignored? I like the idea of a crisis of faith because it can be absolutely devastating even when you don't really believe in all the nonsense.

His parents use it against him. Why would god leave me with a ungrateful kid like you? His mum throws the cross at him and he watches it shatter on the floor. Nothing happens. He wonders if that means something.

And then he sees the divide. There's a difference between being a poor Catholic and a rich one. Maybe it infuriates him, drives him away from it.

He stops being religious as he grows up. Beings to resent it. Maybe he still wears a cross around his neck, a small gold chain bought at a pawn shop for $5 because it's a habit. Sometimes religion can be an addiction, too.

It never really comes up. It was an aspect of his upbringing the same way finding his mum slouched over on the couch was. Just there. Habitual, almost.

And then he dies.

And then he comes back.

Another crisis of faith that doesn't really go anywhere. Maybe he's too jaded to the idea of a higher power, or maybe he's scared. Terrified. I'd like for him to adopt the same parasitic relationship with Catholicism as his parents did. He goes to church because he thinks he should feel bad about what he does. He sits in the last pew at the back, bows his head. And nothing. Nothing. He just thinks about all the times he wept at night until he couldn't cry anymore. All the desperate prayers that went unanswered.

Maybe it wasn't god who brought him back, after all; but you can't have one without the other. And maybe a part of him is beginning to wonder if there's even a difference between the two.

I like the idea of him struggling with guilt over his deeds as the Red Hood but I don't think he really feels it, and I think that hurts him more than anything. There is an absence of guilt and maybe some trickle-down toxicity. maybe he goes to church because he thinks he should not because he wants to but he sits in the pew and he doesn't pray and he definitely doesn't ask for forgiveness because there's nothing to forgive. But in some twisted way, it makes him feel better for not feeling guilty and so. He goes.

Questioning his faith that might not have ever really been there is something I really like talking about. I think there's more to it than just Catholic guilt.

#a long time ago i explained all of this to my friend and he said it was a brand of catholic called “trasholic” which i adore #and i thought it would fit someone like Jason

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rrpochi · 3 months

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I was the only child of a loving family, my world painted with the vibrant hues of joy and laughter. My parents, Papa Rolando and Mama Cherille, were the pillars of my universe

In those carefree days of my childhood, my family spent weekends going to the nearby markets, going on picnics, and creating cherished memories. My father, was a gentle soul with a warm smile that could dissolve any worry. He would often lift me onto his shoulders, my laughter echoing through the air as we played games outside.

However, fate has a way of weaving unexpected twists into the fabric of our lives. One fateful day, tragedy struck in our family when my father met with a sudden and untimely demise. The once lively household now echoed with the haunting silence of grief.

My world crumbled. The warmth of my father's embrace was replaced by the cold reality of loss. My mother, now a widow, struggled to navigate the emotional turbulence, trying to hold onto the fragments of normalcy for me. The house that was once filled with laughter became a solemn echo of what it used to be.

Days turned into weeks, and I found myself grappling with the void left by my father's absence. The familiar routines became unfamiliar, and the once comforting hugs from my mother carried the weight of shared sorrow. The once vibrant colors in our life now seemed muted, as grief cast a shadow over my innocence.

Then one day, my mother started to change, she became an alcoholic. She then started to beat me when she was drunk. I would cry every night, asking what I did wrong. Why did she change? Doesn't she love me anymore? Where did my loving mother go? I would cry every night, wishing my father was by my side.

Years pass. I was 11 years old at the time when my mother met someone. My mother gives birth to my stepbrother, and my mother became more alcoholic when she met him. She still always beats me when she's drunk, she always makes me babysit my stepbrother, sometimes I would be absent because my mother and her new boyfriend were drinking, leaving my stepbrother alone. I always envy my neighbors because they can play outside without babysitting their siblings.

Then another year passes, my mother gives birth to my second stepbrother, and I have two siblings to babysit now. It's so tiring, isn't it?. I'm just a kid too, why can't I enjoy my life? Why can't I play outside like other kids do? I need my father, why did God take him away from me?

I would always harm myself every night, believing that the pain would go away someday.

Then one day, my mother decided to go abroad to find a job. I was happy that time. "My mother can't hurt me any more!" My inner self said that, but why did I feel sad? My heart and mind are fighting.

"No one will ever hurt you, silly," my mind said.

"But she is still my mother; of course I will miss her," my heart responded.

But I can't do anything if my mother really wants that. "Bahala na si batman," I said to myself.

My mother then let my grandma and her siblings stay in our house before she left. I was so happy at that time because "the more, the happier," they said, but for how long?

Suddenly COVID-19 happened. My mother couldn't provide us food any more because she couldn't work anymore. Who will feed us now? My stepfather can no longer work because of COVID, and my grandma and my uncles have lost their jobs. Then my mother decided to let us go to Leyte because my grandma's sister has a basakan there, but my stepfather and my siblings didn't come with us. I was sad because my siblings couldn't come with us.

The first 3 months in Leyte were nice. I was having a lot of fun feeding our goats, cows, chickens, and buffalos in there, but who would have thought that what I thought was fun turned out to be my nightmare? My mom's brother did something bad to me. I thought I could count on him, but why did he do that? We are family, right? Why did he do that? Even now, I still don't know the answer to those questions. After he did that, I told my mom right away, so she immediately sent me money so I could go here in Cebu. I thought my mother believed me, but when I got home, she scolded me.

"Pataka lang kag istorya about sa akoang igsoon ha! Pwede raman unta nga mo sulti ka nga gi laay naka didto sa leyte bantog ganahan naka mo uli sa cebu, nganong mag buhat buhat paman kag story para lang madaot akong igsoon!" I still remember what mom told me that night. I thought that she would comfort me. I just thought that.

I wish dad was here.

until now, I still carry the trauma I suffered there in Leyte. I can't sleep well either. I just pray for everything. I hope, One day, I will forget what I went through. I hope God will give me strength, and I hope that wherever my father is now, he is happy.

#childhood adulthood 12Branding EmpowermentTechnology

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abusedinwildwood · 3 months

Text

To Start

[TW child abuse, neglect, and sexual abuse]

I am beyond sick of finding out that my old friends are still connected with my biological mother after she abused and neglected me and allowed her son to sexually abuse me for years.

My first friend that I ever had was Shane. He recently passed away and so even though I've cut all ties with everyone from my old life, I've reached out to old friends to try to find out what happened to him. Upon doing this, I discovered that not only is one of my old friends keeping consistent contact with Darlene, but apparently Darlene is still in contact with Shane's family. I felt that I couldn't even reach out to Shane's family as Darlene is a manipulator and chances are that she's lied to them about me for years. (more on this later)

This woman refused to work to provide for her children. This woman let us live without heat or running water. This woman didn't believe me when I told her that her son was sexually abusing me, and then she just pretended that it never happened. Meanwhile it continued to happen.

I am so sick of this woman getting away with the awful things that she did and getting to have relationships with my nieces and nephews and old friends. So I'm gonna talk about it because that's the only power I have here.

Darlene Ruth Stark is a monster. Darlene Stark of Sister Lakes, Michigan physically and emotionally abused me. She also neglected me by not providing a habitable home to live in and she neglected my medical issues that have now developed into lifelong issues.

Darlene Stark who lives on Cable Lakeview Dr in Dowagiac, Michigan allowed her eldest son Tim Stark to molest me over a period of a couple years. She should have kept him away from me, she should have protected me, but she didn't want to accept the reality that her parenting created a monster, and I suffered as a result.

In fact, I continue to suffer every single day. Anxiety, depression, PTSD. Trust issues, inability to ask for help, feeling like a constant burden. I can't stand the feeling of feathers touching my skin because that's how the sexual abuse started. Now when I feel the softness of a feather, I recoil and suddenly I feel like I'm back there in that decrepit bedroom.

Tim was a jokester and loved to play pranks. So when I woke up to him tickling my face with a feather which was a prank he often did in an attempt to get me to hit myself in the face, I played along and acted like I was asleep and would hit myself in the face.

And then it turned sinister. He truly believed that I was asleep so he began to touch me inappropriately. I didn't understand. I was terrified. I thought I did something wrong. I thought that I was doing something wrong by allowing it happen. I was afraid if I showed him that I was actually awake that he would hurt me to keep me quiet. I was frozen and I just hoped it would end.

This happened a few times before I found the courage to tell my "friends" Brittany Smith, Paige Schaus and Rebecca Luth. They encouraged me to tell my mother. She didn't believe me until Tim admitted that it was true. Then she guilt tripped me into not telling the cops. I can still see her sitting in front of me and hear her words perfectly to this day: "We can file a police report but just know that it will ruin his life. He will lose his 1 month old daughter. Do you think you can live with that?"

That was too much for a severely abused 12 year old to take. I just wanted to pretend it didn't happen. And for the first time in my life, I genuinely wanted to die.

All of this aside, everyone knew that we were dirt poor. Everyone knew that my mother was constantly unemployed because she outright refused to work. All of the neighbors and friend's parents who knew that I was being neglected and didn't call CPS, shame on you. Even Shane's family knew. I'm so grateful that they would feed me and that Shane's father taught me how to ride a bike, but still I wonder what my life would be like if they would have done the right thing and gotten me out of that awful situation.

But there is something that you can do now: cut ties with Darlene Stark. Tell her why you refuse to speak to her. Remind her what she did to her daughter. It's time that she faces the consequences of her actions. If it was your daughter, you would have done everything to protect her, wouldn't you?

#Darlene Stark #Dowagiac #Sister Lakes #Wildwood #tw abuse #child abuse #emotional abuse #parental abuse #neglect #trauma

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meowizard · 1 year

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tel me abt any cryptid au thoughts you’ve got please

YYAAAAAAAAAAA TY okie so :3c

theres no real rules here its very as they come so far I've just been taking cookies and evolving them like pokemon. there's some monsters, some creepypasta type shit, some corruption arcs and some rewrites you get it. anyway tw use of tumblr formatting features(<- /joke)

Cotton

the og girlie it all started with her!! i spoke about my vampire au before somewhere but its not looking like that fic is coming out any time soon so here's a rundown:

when frost queen offers sherbet a second chance at life, cotton accepts it on his behalf.

and frost queen turns him into a vampire.

frost vampire

whatever

so he's not the same as he was, both physically (his frostbite doesn't go away because no bloodflow, so his hands and feet are black and his joints are busted and he can't talk well) and mentally (he's...undead he's like. not . ,. human. he's kind of a shell honestly)

he attacks cotton as she's carrying him home

frost queen couldn't send them home because she was immediately disgusted at what she had done vis a vis the flow of nature

he attacks cotton as she's carrying him home, and she decides to hide him in his own home

she convinces the rest of the village sherbet's dead and to leave the house alone as a kind of memorial.

no one lives there anyway

shes not manipulative at all!! it just kind of...happens

plus she has to keep everyone safe, not only from sherbet, but from her! as it turns out, letting a vampire feed off you wrongly turns you into a vampire!

funny how that works out

so she turns into a vampire about a year into this when sherbet gets sloppy (you cant blame him he's basically a zombie at this point)

and she starts to feed off of sheep, and when people realise, she starts to feed off them too!!!

and then in one timeline there's a witch hunt that results in her and sherbet being burnt to death along with the house, and in another she succeeds in turning the whole village into vampires looking for unsuspecting travellers to consume! yahoo :)

Cream Unicorn

i mean they're kind of a cryptid on their own i didn't do much. idk if they're an actual wooden unicorn or not i guess so

the reason they can switch between forms is because they're a mascot!!

once upon a time, you could go to the theme park, buy lightsticks and headbands à la The Mouse, eat candyfloss in their palette, and most notably ride the cream unicorn on the carousel!!

as for their human form...... you ever heard of equestria girls?

Kevin Defunctlands voice: And then it went defunct. or whatever he says idk

the theme park lost all relevance and money and shut down

but what's this???? the animatronic(s) of the cream unicorn still exist and have become sentient!

cream unicorn has ball joints and his paint is chipped :(

Caramel Arrow

i've seen this a bunch of times and take no credit for it: she's part dragon! this one's a lot less fleshed out, feel free to add

she was brought to the citadel as a kiddo after being found wandering the wastelands!

classic little 'oh no! lost child' vs 'oh crap! where's my child'

(she lived with her dragon parent up until then. she was just exploring. she wasn't even lost. she just didn't know how to tell them this)

and then she learnt dragons are generally menaces to cookiekind and her parent was probably an exception

she has a tail and horns? although i don't know if i prefer the idea they're just jougwan (thank you fandom wiki) or disguised as such.

she has very very good perception and battle instincts as well, which aren't technically Dragon Traits but they sure as hell help.

lookie!!! she has a tail!

Alchemist

BOY OH BOY. I CANT BELIEVE I FORGOT HER :3c god i need to redraw this this is from a year ago

ZOMBIE!!! YAHOO!

by complete fucking coincidence she becomes immortal-ish at the same time as her brother

'at least i'll be free of him when i'm dead. FUCK."

she spilled a fucked-up chemical on herself 300 years ago

batman-villain style

she's slightly radioactive and you'll get woozy if you stay next to her for too long

but that effect will completely wear off after another 600 years dw

her hair is still green and vampire does it up for her every so often

naturally it's red. like his!

he's immune to radiation btw

'at least i'll be free of him when i'm toxic. FUCK.'

Mango

something something ferryman of the dead.

Captain Caviar

something something ghost ship

(something something davy jones cookie)

Squid Ink/Black Pearl

i mean. its self explanatory they're a fucking kraken aint they what do you want me to say

Chili Pepper

this includes red pepper but i'm not an ovenbreak player SORRY

magpie-ish!

she's a harpy. in appearance, sort of, kind of, at least

she covers up her feathers by wearing trench coats and big ass hats.

also her feathers look like chili flakes! i thought that would be fun

lives in a fucking tree probably

also ties in with :

Rye

has been sheriff for as long as anyone can remember..... because she's immortal! firework noises

she's like. a guardian of some kind

rye shoots and she farms and she defends and she tends.

she has the western movie mentality of 'this is my turf' ect but thats just canon

also this is why she's the only person with her accent

its a dialect from decades ago

also her skin is very dry and cracked. like shes made of stone!

i'm not sure of the reason she exists. maybe borne out of the rockeyst mountains as a savioer of its toment'd dwellers or some such

so there's no real coherence or rhyme to any of these, just a bunch of ideas i have. some (like alchemists) just my headcanons and dont count as an AU per se...? idk i have a whole lot of thoughts on a bunch of em!! let me know what you think or if there's anything i could add, anyone i could add.,.,. :Dc i'll draw some of em maybe.

#i don't know the definition of a cryptid and it shows lmao #iM CRINGE AND GETTING CRINGER MEHEHHE #i'm worried about putting this in the tags but when have i ever cared about what i think #cookie tag #cotton tag #cotton cookie #carrow tag #alch tag #vamp tag #chilirye #alchemist cookie #mango cookie #rye cookie #chili pepper cookie #cream unicorn cookie #caramel arrow cookie

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traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors · 1 year

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TW : difficult relationship with food?, mentionned eating disorder, child neglect, child abuse, ableism

Can you help me understand my relationship with food better? I don't think I have and eating disorder, but I've become concerned when piecing together my childhood trauma and current relationship with food. I don't really know what to think of it.

I've been forced to stay hungry for long periods as a kid because my parents very rarely allowed snacks between meals, and the meal times were very strict. When they offered snacks, it was often nuts, "organic" cookies with poppy seets and vague lemon flavor - not great when it's your only option. They'd even withhold food when we were hiking for a long time because we "hadn't found a good spot yet"...

My dad also has some very unhealthy ideas about food, I suspect that he might fit the criteria for anorexia. He rose me with these ideas, obviously. He believes that forcing yourself endure pain is honorable, in general - he already got himself sick at some point from working out constantly and eating very little. That being said he also pressures me and my sibling to eat less just because he wants to spend less money.

As a child I would sneak anything edible in my room. I hid chunks of salt in tissues, raisins in some box I had in my room... My dad even found the bowl of noodles i hid in my nightstand as a teen (glad I didn't eat that honestly). I even had a bottle that ended up spoiling which resulted in a lot of guilt.

I only had free access to food at one of my grandma's, when I stayed at her place I could eat anything anytime and it felt good. She had snack / candy drawers and I'd pick what I wanted, but I know I also probably ate too much of it at once. It felt like I was rushing to eat because I finally could. This was when I was a teen, I wasn't a toddler or a child anymore.

I also always ate lunch at school from primary to end of highschool and since I'm autistic it was traumatizing. I would be hungry most of the time because my body pretty much refuses any food that doesn't feel right.

My parents also pressured me into eating foods that felt horrible (I was not "scared", I knew what it tasted like and I just couldn't). So I'd end up not always eating enough at family meals, too, when I had the chance. My parents never accomodated my disability and this includes food sensitivity. I'm 20 now, and I eat what I want around the house and I've learned to cook. I pack my own meal when I commute to uni, and I finally eat foods that feel safe. Still a lot of depressing ingredients but I make it work.

However I have a hard time handling hunger, I am always drawn to fat and especially sugary foods. I got my first cavities ever in the past 2-3 years, basically when I started this new way of life.

I also have quite a bit of gut problems, I will see a doctor soon I think but basically I rely on butter, pasta, bread and rice to fill me up. I can't pack meat/eggs because it would spoil, and I try eating vegetables often but it doesn't always help (and the fresh veggies are like... carrots, carrots again, carrots... carrots again with some carrots on the side - these are not a safe food so.. yeah). I do eat more nuts lately because I need to chew on something when studying, and it does help with the hunger.

I feel like I don't understand how to feed myself healthily (without being restrictive like my parents were bc it's all they taught me).

I have ways to deal with the material signs of this relationship with food, so I'm more interested in the core problem. Could you help me with this? Also if you have resources I'd be happy to see them. Thanks a lot :)

Hi anon,

I would ultimately recommend asking an ED-informed therapist or nutritionist about this. I know that maintaining a healthy diet after experiences like those is not an easy thing to do, and I don't want to give potentially counterintuitive advice.

I think a therapist could help in getting to the core problem of your complicated relationship with food, especially as a professional who will know what they're doing much better than an inexperienced volunteer. A nutritionist or dietician may help in the actual application of a healthier plate.

I hope I could help at least a little bit. Best of luck with everything and please know that you're welcome here if you need anything.

-Bun

#mod bun #trauma talks #trauma details #abuse #child abuse

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queenofthedisneyverse · 1 year

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Twins of pain au - how could you leave us

Julieta and Agustin were supposed to be there. To nurture them, to hug them, to comfort them but they didn't do that. Where were they? helping the village. Julieta had to serve the town with her food and Agustin helped pass out the food. They had no time for them.

The twins knew this...so why did it hurt? why did it hurt to know that your parents didn't have time for you? why did it hurt to know that they didn't know that you were being abused? they asked themselves this every day.

Miguel and Mirabel's POV

"Mama and papa say they love us but do they? YES! that's a stupid question, they are just busy and you are just being selfish as always" I think to myself

"Sure they didn't tuck us in at night, and sure they don't acknowledge us most of the time, sure they don't notice that we're not home most of the time but...their busy and it's ok I can wait"

End of POV

They waited, and waited, and waited. They never wanted to give up on their parents, they didn't want to believe that their parents are neglectful, that their family is neglectful.

So they would just leave them alone and would say hi whenever they could. Which...was a very rare moment between the parents and them.

A picture hangs up in the twin's room. A picture of the blue family together in one picture. The one time the family was free to be a family. That one photo when the twins were five years old.

Miguel and Mirabel can't even remember the last time they had a full conversation with their parents, but it's ok...it's always ok.

Then Antonio came along, he wasn't expected but they managed. They tried to feed him as much as a child should eat...even if that meant they couldn't eat.

Mirabel and Miguel shielded Antonio away from the family as much as they could. They don't want him to be the punching bag of their anger. Whenever Antonio broke something while cleaning Mirabel or Miguel would take the blame.

Did I mention that the twins and Antonio only whisper when they talk? Oh, Dolores complained that the twins were being too loud when they spoke. They were "purposefully" being loud to hurt her.

A long scold from Alma made them only talk with whispers and/or ASSL/SSL.

Antonio was raised into it.

"Be quiet or you'll hurt Dolores"

He was also raised to be vigilant because our dear sweet and perfect Isabela liked to throw flower pots from time to time. But that's only in the house, outside she just trips them with her vines.

He was also raised not to look any of the madrigals in the eye. He was told that it would make them upset and to only look up at them when told.

When Antonio turned 4 he learned what parents are. Parents look after you, feed you, clothe you, hug you, and comfort you. He knew who his parents were, Pepa and Felix. But they never acted like it and quite frankly Antonio didn't want parents.

Parents are mean, they hurt you and they scold you. But siblings don't do those things, Siblings took care of you and made you happy. Siblings are good!

He was told early who his biological siblings were so he thought he could trust them. He quickly learned to not even speak to them or be in their line of eyesight. But not because of his safety, but because HE makes them upset it's HIS "fault" for talking to them.

"My prima, hermano, and Hermana tried to hurt me last night but it's ok it was my fault" is what he thinks

How could Pepa and Felix shove their own child on two other children? well if they abused their niece and nephew why would they care about their own child?

And through all of this Julieta and Agustin still don't see what's happening to their children + Antonio.

But it's ok...the village and Alma's happiness are all that matters.

#twins of pain au #encanto au #mirabel madrigal #antonio madrigal #camilo madrigal #dolores madrigal #alma madrigal #pepa madrigal #felix madrigal #miguel madrigal

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suspiciouscow · 2 years

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debts

so I'm adopted. if my biological father wasn't so unruly when I was a child, i would have all but forgotten this by now. but I grew up fully aware of this fact and I used to be grateful for this, but now...

it just feels so suffocating, knowing I have another choice, knowing I could have been, could BE living my life differently.

I'm under so many constraints, so much pressure, and ever since I became "rebellious" (AKA, started having thoughts) I couldn't help but compare this life to what I could have had. Yes, my biological family was poor, and I would have probably burdened them even more. But even then...! I can't help but to regret it. Even my siblings and parents regret it. As I write this, I realise this might have been the catalyst for my parents' relationship crumbling. But that's a whole other rant.

So now, now that my siblings are thriving and lifting each other up, and so close to breaking free from difficulty, we're getting more and more close and it feels like there's a ticking bomb going off in the background. They said I can be with them soon! That they can provide for me and my future now!! And the thought makes me so excited.

But then what about my adoptive family? Can I really just up and walk away from them? In theory, I could. It's my choice and they can't stop me. But, even though I resent them to an extent (my adoptive dad, to a very high extent) I still felt all my life that I had a growing number on my head for every day I spent with them, for every thing they provided for me. How do I pay that debt by walking away?

Not even that, the effort they put into raising me, the money they spent and continue to save up for me, what do I do with that? How could I face them ever again if I just leave it to collect dust as if I never cared?

And on the flip side--how could I reject my real family's offer to reunite after two decades of seperation? How could I put them through that AGAIN. When I was a kid, I wasn't even able to recognise them when we met again for the first time after my adoption. I made my parents and siblings cry so much without my knowing and I just can't bear to put them through it again; I needed to make it right. But I also can't bear to make them struggle again with another mouth to feed, another person to worry for.

In my unrealistic imagination, I run away from everyone. I work hard so that I can pay back my debt to my adoptive parents and also to complete my duty as their eldest child. In this way, too, I can afford to live with my biological parents and siblings without giving them unnecessary stress and bills and whatnot.

Sigh. It honestly would be better if I were never born. I mean that with every fiber of my being. I'm okay with living now, but if I could reset my life I would love to just stop before it could start. Maybe that's why I'm so passionate about abortion rights and proper sexual education in my country. My mother and father are so miserable now because they didn't know how to manage and take care of their children. Not to mention how young my mother was when she started having kids. (My father started when he was 16, I believe)

This is such a meaningless rant but I had to let it out, haaa.

#rant #ramble #vent #personal vent

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