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thread of things you can do to feel more puppy!!
warning, this is not for puppy regressors!! this is an nsfw post and probably not safe for u if you regress while online. stay safe, sfw puppies.
anyway. back to content for puppies who r fucking degenerates. i’m a switch & not only do i own a puppy sub but i am also one!! this is applicable for both partnered and solo pups, dw, there’s likely to be something here for everyone.
૮( ˃ ꒳ ˂)ა
◟/づ🦴
🐾 grind on pillows and/or furniture!! pillows are an accessible option for everyone, not everyone has furniture they can feel comfortable doing that on because maybe they don’t live alone or what have you. but pillows are an amazing option for any and all needy puppies.
🐾 snacks can help u feel puppy a lotttt!! while it can be fun to have your partner feed you little treats, you can also absolutely do this on your own. while you’re not in the headspace, set up small little snacks for you to have for when you follow rules or actions you set up for yourself. ppl often underestimate how satisfying solo play can be!! but it can be awesome. good ideas for pup snacks can be small cookies reminiscent of dog treats (scooby snack graham cracker cookies if you’re in the u.s., highly recommend), little cubes of meat and cheese, or dry cereal. it doesn’t have to be those things though, it can be anything broken up into small pieces. be creative!!
🐾 some people enjoy eating or drinking out of dog bowls but for some, that’s inaccessible or maybe just not to their taste. another option can be water bottles with spouts you have to suck on (oral fixation is so so so puppy!!). smaller sized snack bowls also work well for this. anything notably small can help a lot with headspace i find because a large part of puppyspace for many is feeling tiny and :3. if you know you know pfffft.
🐾 here’s a simple one!! have an article of clothing or jewelry you wear only during puppy time :) of course there’s the obvious ones; harnesses, ears, collars. but even just a bracelet or a sweater can work if you only wear it during pupspace and get your brain to associate it.
🐾 if you go into the headspace online (as i’m sure many of you reading do if ur here), you can do certain typing things to help you feel even more puppy. using certain emojis or doing a little :3 or :> it’s pretty common to have your voice change tone and your words get more simple when in a smaller mindset so it can be fun to have your typing also reflect this!! typing out “woof” or “arf” r silly but they r cute and i recommend it, 10/10.
🐾 find something you can safely bite on!! nothing you could choke on or that could hurt you. chewelry is rlly good for this, i’d recommend looking on etsy for some. but you can also just buy a new actual dog toy (fresh, not used, clean it before). puppies need to teethe!! the urge to bite is super common.
🐾 if you have enough privacy, play fetch with yourself. why not?? you can bounce a ball off the walls and even if you’re in a small room where you don’t have far to get to it, you’re still pretty likely to get excitable abt it!! if you’re doing this outside don’t put the toy in your mouth, if you’re indoors you can probably feel more comfortable to do this safely if you’re using something big enough not to choke yourself with.
🐾 ride toys!! it’s hard to do things yourself, riding or suction cupping a toy to a wall so you can just lay down and move ur needy hips against it can be wonderful for puppyspace.
🐾 suck your fingers or your partners fingers!! puppies need our mouths occupied. gently chewing on fingers, probably not enough to hurt (maybe tho, good for you), just enough to feel like you’re gnawing a bit, is SO so so good. this doesn’t even have to be sexual, drifting off to sleep with fingers or a gag (nothing that you could accidentally swallow) in your mouth can help you wake up puppy!! i wouldn’t recommend sleeping with a gag in long term, that’s more for naps or on special occasions. like i mentioned before; oral fixation oral fixation oral fixation!! you should also suck toys and cock 🤍🤍
🐾 wag your hips or kick your feet!! it’s like wagging ur tail :> wiggles can come naturally when in pupspace so embrace them as ur “phantom tail” pfffft
🐾 “puppyparts” “puppycunt” “puppyholes” “puppycock” “puppyanything”🏃🏃
remember, if some of these aren’t applicable to you and how you like to play, you are not any less puppy. these are general, not one size fits all. there are countless different ways to be puppy and i don’t think any two people should be doing it the EXACT same way. we all have our quirks, we all have our individual headspaces.
have fun and play safe, puppies 🐾���🎾
#nsft puppy#petpl4y#petpl@y#t4t nsft#mlm nsft#bd/sm pet#mlm petpl@y#t4t mlm#t4t petpl@y#p3t play#trans nsft#ftm nsft#ftm puppy
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Ok, now I'm really concerned that how to prevent rats isn't common knowledge like I thought it was. So, to anyone whose parents/guardians/adults didn't teach you, here's the basics of prevention*:
Rats, like you, need three things: food, water, and shelter. If they don't get these things, they don't bother sticking around. Access to food is probably the biggest draw, and the one you can do the most about.
Rats eat the same foods you do, and the same food that most pets eat. You don't want them to have access to this food, so:
Don't leave dirty dishes laying around, the smell will attract rats. Don't put leave dirty dishes in your bed room, or under the couch, or in your car, or whatever. Dishwashers are great, but if you don't have a functional one, and you're low on energy/executive function, at a minimum cover your dirty dishes with soapy water instead of leaving them out. Rats can't eat soapy food.
Work to minimize food waste, because the smell of tasty food in your compost or garbage will attract rats.
Don't put food scraps in your indoor garbage unless your garbage can is rat proof. Take it outside asap, to a rat-proof bin.
When composting, if you're composting food that would be attractive to rats (grains, fats/oils, dairy, meat) it's best to: bury the food down in the center of the pile, try out bokashi composting, or have a rat-proof composter. Generally people do tell you not to compost dairy and meat, but I do know that some people do it anyway.
Keep your grains & legumes in rodent proof-containers. Glass jars, metal trash cans, etc.
If you have dogs, put their food away at night. If you have birds or other animals that eat a seed-based diet, then it pays to make their food/enclosures inaccessible to rats as well. Cats are rat deterrents so leaving dry food out for them is probably the one exception.
Clean up spilled foods immediately.
If you have fruit trees (like those apple trees everyone has that were planted 3 or more decades ago) and notice that something besides a deer is eating them, it's really best to pick all the fruit. You probably can't eat it all, so giving it away is a good option. Compost the rotten/icky ones fallowing the advice above, or dig a hole and do some trench composting.
Rats also need water, which is another reason to make sure you don't have any leaks anywhere, and to not leave beverages out in open containers.
Beyond that, thoroughly looking around your house, inside and out, to make sure there's no access points. Vents can be covered with wire mesh, holes the size of a dime need to be patched (because mice exist, too). Keep vegetation clear from around the base of your house, and make sure there's no trees or shrubs growing close enough to your house that a rat could make the leap to your roof. Keep an eye out for tunnels near your house's foundation, because they will tunnel underneath.
Also, while I'm at it, for the love of your house's structural integrity, DO NOT store wood piles against your house. Termites people!!!
And yes, there's a reason why cats are such a common pet. Not only do they hunt rats, the very smell of a cat is enough to deter rats. Do not just get a cat for rat prevention though, only get a cat if you're going to provide it a good home and are able to take on the additional care tasks without over extending yourself. Getting a housemate that comes with a cat is a great alternative to getting your own cat (and I'm only halfway joking).
*because prevention is much easier and much less terrible than dealing with an infestation. Prevention is so, so, so much easier than getting rid of them, particularly because once they're there, they'll start eating other things that wouldn't have been enough by themselves to draw them in.
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After the flood, The Batman uses his grappling hook and other gadgets to expertly maneuver his way to sections of the city that are inaccessible.
He can’t rescue victims on his own because the hook can only carry so much weight so he lights flares on the roofs of buildings where people are trapped and two flares if someone needs immediate medical attention.
He relays more information through Gordon about how many people there are, whether or not they’re accessible by boat or helicopter. A paramedic team provides him with a walkie talkie and rudimentary first aid training, only to learn that The Batman is already an expert in EMT protocol and how to provide CPR for over twenty minutes if necessary.
The only people he can safely evacuate himself are small children. (The “safety” is still shaky, but the Bat refuses to leave children behind. The paramedics hesitantly provide him with child and infant evacuation harnesses in hopes they’ll help.) Some kids don’t want to leave their parents so The Batman waits for up to an hour to make sure they’re rescued. Other children’s parents refuse to trust the masked vigilante with their child’s safety. He accepts that but makes sure to let the paramedics know this one is also priority.
But some desperate parents, especially those with newborns, have no choice but to trust him if it means their children get medical attention sooner. He has blank hospital bands and a few pens with him so the parents can write down their name, birth date, allergies, an emergency contact outside of the city, etc. As long as they’re lighter than 90 lbs, he has no doubt he’ll be able to bring their child to safety.
The orphanage takes two days to evacuate, and many of the staff and kids are apprehensive of him at first, but by the afternoon, The Batman has helped twenty kids to safety and found a safe landing spot on the building for a helicopter to fly. The hospital was, of course, also a priority, and The Batman evacuated many patients there, but it was thankfully up to date on evacuation protocol and took just under a day.
He rescues cats and small dogs and a pet lizard at one point too, all with their own hospital band with the owner’s info or wherever they were found scrawled on it. The Batman performs CPR on drowning victims, most of whom he was too late to save, but he does it anyway, over and over and over and over again.
He learns that kids are more likely to trust him if he carries stickers and lollipops to help calm them down. It feels manipulative the first few times he does it. He also wonders if he should bring something healthier, but he doesn’t have enough pockets, and the kids and parents weirdly trust him more when he asks what their favorite flavor is. (It also helps when he finds a few diabetics suffering from low blood sugar.)
By the end of his fifth day, The Batman has several stickers on his suit that he can’t bear to take off because the kids smile more when they see them. Somehow, he finds room in one pocket to fit a stuffed dog for the kids that are afraid of heights but need to be evacuated as soon as possible.
His cape makes for a good emergency shock blanket. He coaches many survivors through panic attacks and grief-stricken anxiety attacks. He tells them how to breathe and asks them to count down from 12 with him.
At one point, a kid asks for his name. The Bat’s never had to answer that question to someone that isn’t a criminal. He’s not vengeance anymore. That’s behind him. He’s just a guy in a gothic, bat-themed suit of armor. That name GCPD gave him, The Batman, comes to mind. He never really gave himself that. “The Batman” is too formal and ominous for a child anyway. He thinks for a moment then says he’s “Batman.”
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WIP Wednesday for accountability 🎉two for one special 🎉
From Haul:
Cutesy, fluffy socks in place, you continue your exploration of the sparingly furnished room. Aside from the bed and the little desk, there's an empty bookshelf and a bucket in the corner which makes you shudder just to think about. As if in warning, your tummy gurgles but you cross your legs defiantly where you stand. Instead, you head toward the desk and begin inspecting it, pulling out each drawer in turn only to be greeted by dust, more dust, and a ratty looking deck of cards - benevolent of them - but no pens or pencils, or anything really that could have been used as a makeshift weapon.
You bite back a groan of frustration, determination winning out as you begin to inspect the desk itself. It's a flatpack unit of some sort, solid metal legs and a laminated MDF top. Surprisingly sturdy, and anchored to the wall as you find out when you give it an experimental shove and it bites into your hip rather aggressively. No barricading, then, although it wouldn't do you much good anyway if you couldn't find another exit. Or at least a way to pick them off as they came through the door. Your eyes rove your limited options, landing on the small metal stool tucked under the desk. You tilt your head in consideration, giving it an experimental heft as you imagine beating the large men down with something so unwieldy. It would make you laugh, if it didn't make your bad shoulder hurt so much.
Movement beyond your door has you stashing your stool away quickly, scrambling back to the bed so you could hide yourself under the blankets like some frightened child.
Your boogeymen don't bother with theatrics beyond the sounds of the locks disengaging. It's Kyle who appears first, pretty eyes scanning the room as if in search of threat before stepping to the side and allowing the captain to come through. It strikes you again how very big they are. In this tiny room, with its low slung, claustrophobia-inducing rafters and clos- pitched walls, they stand taller than the bookcase, seem to loom near as broad as your bed. Kyle shuts the door behind them but it's almost unnecessary as you know in your bones there would be no slipping past them even if you weren't laid up sorer than a pussy in a pricker patch.
"Good morning doll," John beams and you nod at him absently. Morning. At least you got a decent night's sleep.
"When the captain wishes you a good morning, you return the favor," Gaz warns and you nod again, swallowing.
"Good morning, John. Good morning, Gaz," you tack on when John raises a brow at you.
"A clever one, then. Good. That'll make this next bit easier." John's smile is almost warm when he comes to sit on the edge of the bed. Pleased, he nearly looks amiable and you can almost see how he's managed to bring this group of men to heel, though the notion makes you want to clobber yourself with your stool as soon as you think it.
And from a new piece I'm tentatively calling Get Her a Dog which centers around Soap x reader, Price x reader, and eventual Price soap x reader - heavily changed since the last time I mentioned it due to some illuminating discussions with Kai @/dwarvenales
It's raining in York again, the soft tatting upon the windows your only indication. It's evening, but you've still got the blinds pulled because you couldn't be arsed to draw them. In the apartment next door, a baby cries its head off and you sigh, turning up the volume on your b-movie romcom. It cries a lot. You don't immediately reach for your phone when it buzzes against the coffee table because you can't think of any pressing reasons someone would be contacting you tonight, but it goes off twice more in as many minutes so you relent. You unlock it without really looking, thumbing through to your messages where your husband's contact photo beams back at you, top of the list. You pause, lip twitching slightly. Johnny's supposed to be halfway across the world, his phone inaccessible to him. It should be a good thing that he's texting you - returning from a mission early could go one of two ways, but if he was well enough to text then surely you should be excited for him. Except you're not, because you know what his message will read before you even open it. Used to be, Johnny would stumble through the door after a deployment all battered and bruised, laughing when you yelped because you weren't expecting him - wandering the house in lazy day clothes because you thought he was supposed to be away another week. He always rushed home the second he could, never wasted enough time for so much as an 'I lived' text because he couldn't bear to be away from you one more unnecessary moment. Used to be, you two missed each other when he was away. >having the boys over for dinner <you're back in town? >got in yesterday yea >can u make that pasta dish gaz likes? owe him my life
You sigh, torn between being more annoyed by Johnny's presumption, the fact he hadn't even let you know he was alive let alone at base, and the fact that you know you should be worried after a comment like that.
Mostly, you're just too tired.
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Dare I Desire (Chapter 6)
Pairing: Adrian x Male Reader
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7|
AN: Here is a link for reader's family dynamics.
Freshly showered, Adrian finds himself in the dining room with a steaming bowl of soup. He did not cook it. He did not clean the piling unused dishes or broken shards of glass that he had expected. He is almost surprised to find all the chairs and the table intact.
It did not take much to figure out who it was done by. The vampire who now stares at him from the other side of the table.
Y/n, you call yourself. Your intentions remain a mystery and your threat increases with every passing second. You speak of unknown lands and unheard kingdoms. Adrian finds it hard to trust you. The bargain encouraged the seeds of doubt to sprout further.
‘Mate-,’ Adrian quickly banishes the thought. He does not deign his attention to such lies.
“Come on, let me know how I did,” the soup remains untouched. It contains no poison. It smells normal. Yet, Adrian finds it hard to bring himself to eat.
“Just tell the story already,” had he not showered already? He would not obey every command like a dog.
“Eat,” you repeat. Making a show of settling back in your chair. As if mocking to drag out the argument.
Stupid bargain. His dumb curiosity be damned. Adrian feels wronged in ten ways.
“Hmph,” Adrian picks up the spoon and the cutlery feels foreign in his hands. How long had it been since he had felt the metal of silverware instead of the glass of a wine bottle in his hand?
Warmth blooms in his mouth. The soup that’s more of a broth, tastes watery at best. He can taste dill, rosemary, thyme, garlic, and some chicken flavoring. Salted very lightly it seems to be an amalgamation of spices. Could be much more awful for a Vampire’s cooking. Adrian finds it quite palatable.
After months he feels more human than ever. Ironical that you, a vampire, are the reason for the feeling of humanity.
“What say? How’s it?” You ask with genuine curiosity in your eyes. Adrian does not offer you a response but it is utmost annoying when he spots the smug smirk as he goes for another sip.
“I reckon I promised you a story,” you break the awkward silence. Adrian simply continues drinking his soup and does not react when you push another bowl towards him.
“In the kingdom of Asor reside 3 conflicting powers. The vampires, the founders, and the rulers of the land. The Elves, who reside in the forests aloof from most. And the Fae, who live in caves and valleys inaccessible even to the rulers of Asor.
The Vampires are the protectors, the fighters of Asor. The Elves are the providers, they’re the farmers and lore masters. The Fae are the primary magic bearers who maintain the balance of our lands. There are of course other races but those fare in little numbers.
These races have fought for power for centuries. However, recent treatises have established some semblance of ‘peace’. With the territories divided each retreated to their own. But the Vampires still ruled most. Even the Fae and the elves remain subservient to the Vampires. For the spirits of creation who aided the formation of Asor were convinced by my father. The king of Asor has always been a vampire.
In the past, there have been wars among the folks of Asor. And one such brutal war was between the Fae and the Vampires. Immortals who had little to lose did not care for their soldiers. They had time and numbers. Nothing could stop them, leave for the weariness of their subjects.
A bargain was made,” you look at him breaking away from the story. “And bargains are nothing if not load full of crap.” A warning rings loud in the room. The fickle-ness of bargains was not unknown to Adrian, not after today.
“The Vampire king, my father, Orthere who was wed to Heiu, the queen of Asor, had a child with the queen of Fae, Blasa. They did not marry but slept together to bear a child. A compromise that the powers of Asor agreed upon.
A half fae and half-vampire offspring who would unite the courts and balance the power. Or so, they had hoped.
A spokesperson of the Fae in the main court of Asor. A royal who would promise more control to the Fae.
Blasa bore the child while Orthere returned to his territory.” Adrian could not help but re-examine you. Were you truly half fae and half vampire? Your looks did not betray your origin. In fact, you look exactly like a pure-blood vampire with your fangs, pointed ear, and your bloodless pallor. Even your powers were vampiric.
“Unlike most the Fae court is matriarchal. Females rule while males are mere accessories. In such court, a child came to be. A child who would’ve been nothing but a bed warmer had he not carried the blood of the King of Asor.
There were others too. Two other sons and a daughter, who was to be the heir to Blasa. Ingal, Daylan, and the Crown Princess Eilos. All half-siblings to each other and the child.
The child who can be me or someone else entirely. But that’s for you to figure.” You shrug with nonchalance. Your manner too relaxed, yet the tale was too detailed.
“Growing up with the Fae who lusted for his power but could not care enough about him the child who remained unaware of his father. He was an oddity. Not Fae enough but not foreign either. His mother treasured his worth but not him.”
Adrian feels the oppressive silence as soon as you stop speaking. A treaty you had called yourself. Yet, there remains the memory of Asor that he had a glimpse of. Was it worth it?
“The Fae are the folks of the forest. They rule nature and possess the ability to glamour it to their will. They speak in riddles, but they cannot lie. Bored out of their immortality they find immense pleasure in others’ pain. So, what do you think Adrian? Does my possible fae blood explain my tolerance to the Sun?” With the first tale out of the dark. The question now loomed in the near future.
Later in the night, when Adrian plows through all the books about the Faerie folk, he stops. For that one moment, he imagines a lonely child. A child with familiar brown hair and silver eyes. Features similar to that of the obnoxious vampire. He sees the child crouched as three humanoid figures, with their backs to him, snicker in a sinister joy. At that moment, he feels a distant dread as the figures close on to the child with unkempt hair and misfitting clothes.
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You should have gotten the dollar and if it’s not too much trouble could I get a Drabble for Bungou Stray Dogs Chuuya and Dazai tickling Atsushi
Thank you again so much for your help! I hope you enjoy this little drabble! It was a fun opportunity to write Chuuya tickling Atsushi! (And Dazai, of course. ^^)
~~~
“Chuuya, hold him still!” Dazai whined as he grappled with a squirming Atsushi, trying to roll him onto his back so he could tickle his tummy.
Chuuya cursed, reaching for Atsushi’s arms again, thwarted again when the weretiger quickly drew them away. “I’m trying!”
“Use your freaky gravity power to hold him still.”
“I can’t! You’re using your ability to stop him, and when I touch him you cancel mine, too! Idiot!”
Atsushi – for his part – continued to curl up on his side and protect both his tummy and his arms by forming a little ball on the floor, giggling from the silliness and impending tickle attack. “Guys, plehehehease! Wait!”
Dazai hummed. “Wait for what, Atsushi? Why should we wait when we can tickle you now?”
Chuuya made another grab for his arms and was once again denied. “You little—!” He snapped his eyes up to Dazai. “The kid’s got more ticklish spots than that! Just tickle him somewhere! He’ll have to unfurl eventually.”
“Nohohohoho!” Atsushi protested.
Dazai considered a moment, then squeezed his kneecap, nearly getting a foot to the face for his trouble. Despite his lower body reacting on instinct, Atsushi’s upper body remained tightly curled up and inaccessible.
“Must I do everything myself?” Chuuya muttered, reaching down to dig his fingers into Atsushi’s side, a satisfied smirk gracing his features when the weretiger shot one arm out to stop him. He grabbed his wrist and pulled it above his head before he could take it back, leaving one side entirely open. “There, Dazai!”
Dazai’s eyes lit up like a holiday tree as he wormed his fingers along Atushi’s side, gradually making his way to his tummy, at which point Atsushi’s giggles rose in pitch and he rolled onto his back. “Nohohohohohoho, wahahahahahait!”
Chuuya snatched up his other arm and sat on them both to keep him open and vulnerable, then scribbled his fingers into his armpits at the same time that Dazai went to town on his open belly.
Atsushi screeched with laughter, heels digging into the floor as he squirmed and bucked, a happy smile and pink blush showing off how much fun he was having despite his predicament. “Ahahahahaha plehehehehease, you guhuhuhuhuys! Nohohohohoho! Dohohohohon’t tihihihihickle me!”
“Whyever not?” Dazai mused, his voice in that teasing, lilting cadence that always drove Chuuya up the wall when he was the one in the weretiger’s position. The redhead shivered at the thought but kept up his own tickling, pointedly ignoring the playful wink his partner sent his way.
“It tihihihihihihihihickles!” Atsushi whined, laughter turning more frantic when Dazai finally dug a finger into his belly button. “Ehehehehehehe plehehehehehehehease!”
“I don’t know, Chuuya,” Dazai hummed, “do you think we should let him go?”
“After that little quip about ‘getting a room’ when he’s the one who walked in on us uninvited?” Chuuya snorted, leaning further forward to massage the tops of his ribs. “Not a chance.”
Atsushi whined through his laughter, babbling out apologies and pleas, but it was useless. When Dazai and Chuuya were on the warpath together, nothing could stop them. He’d just have to hope he could hold out long enough for them to feel satisfied in their thirst for vengeance…
#fanfiction#tickle drabble#coffee shots#bungo stray dogs#bsd#chuuya nakahara#dazai osamu#atsushi nakajima#playful#fun#tickling#ticklish#tickle#ler!chuuya lee!atsushi is a combo i wanna write more of now that i've done it once#so fun#also my experiment worked thanks to help from this lovely user so#more info to come on that soon!
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My kids are back to school today. It's sad for me, I only have this year and next year left with Daniel. Then he's going to be an adult. Possibly working? Possibly in school? Vincent has a lot of schooling left. My sons still let me help them but even Vincent has started to want to be more independent. It's good, I know. But it's sad as a mom. I was DOG tired this morning but everyone got up on time and we had a pretty seamless transition. I helped Daniel with his hair and outfit but he got off to school, Vincent had a pretty easy time and woke up in a decent mood. I hope everything goes well for dismissal.
Things with my ex are truly in a state of disrepair and I'm losing my will to want to even work with him anymore. I don't care if he reads this. This manipulative MFer will be checked out, unhelpful, completely inaccessible, doesn't call or text or check in or ask me at any time that's good for me, and then the moment I don't let him come and grab the kids at 6pm he's manipulative and starts in with the "you're trying to keep my kids from me!" He'll call me names, flip me off IN PUBLIC and then act surprised when I block him for 24 hours. If anyone knew even the half of the extent of his bullshit, they'd be over it, too. I've given him many breaks on child support payments with the intention of giving him room to breathe financially (why, he's a single man who has no kids to account for he could work 2 jobs easily, but I DIGRESS). He doesn't appreciate it and he thinks I'm not going to be angry when I find out he's been going to some dumbass warehouse to party during the summer when he SHOULD have been at home, sleeping or doing one of any number things he needs to do (getting rid of a flea infestation being number ONE). He's like a petulant child. My ex was a semi-workable human while with me, and everyone tells me "you were the only thing keeping him anchored to reality" and now I know that's true. He doesn't care. He doesn't consider how his lifestyle choices affect anyone else. He doesn't care how it affects his kids. No one understands this unless they've gone through it themselves, being the only workable human in a co-parenting situation is hell. If I could trust him to do anything half-way decently it would be less stressful.
He got mad at me the other day because I wouldn't let him come over to my house at 7pm after not having been in communication with anyone all day. He wanted to sleep over at my house and let our youngest sleep with him on the couch. He phrased it as "you'll have the bed to yourself". I told him no and didn't want to do that and he immediately turns on me like "you're trying to keep me from my kids". Fucking moronic. Why do you think I should or have to agree that? He was here watching our kids when I went to NYC and he literally was sleeping at 11am, the kids were up by themselves. Neither of them NEEDED him there, all he did was use my car to do his errands and then eat my food and sleep here. Then he was 20 minutes late picking my sister and I up from the train station in MY CAR after I had told him NUMEROUS times what time to come and get us. He didn't leave until I called him and we had already arrived.
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Fingertips smudged in blue ink for Marion! :))
There's ink on her fingers again.
It's an innocent enough observation, but the fact that he has stared at her hands long enough to make it is enough to spark some internal debate. She has lovely hands, though - when they're not being marked by a leaking pen. Neil loves watching her hands as she works, loves watching the way her pen flies over the paper while she's taking notes and the way the sun catches her slim silver signet ring with the Athena's Head etched into the silver. It's modest and workaday - just like her. And those hands seem to hold up half the base. Writing her intelligence reports with Bowman, writing her reports to headquarters, writing her letters home to - well, he doesn't know who she writes to at home. If he did, it's likely he'd be jealous of whatever fellow gets to get sentimental over her perfect penmanship.
He's been daydreaming a lot about those hands, recently - since she took him to task at the officer's club and made him dance with her instead of Mary Boyle. He'd had a fair bit to drink that night, but he could still remember that they'd fit so nicely into his own, that her arms had felt nice, wrapped around his shoulder. In his dreams he kisses her palms, feels the silver of that ring in his hair, the way her fingers would feel pressed against his shirt. But she always stops before she gets too far - in dreams, as in real life, Marion Brennan is a realist.
Home feels far away, here, and Doris further still - she's still writing every week, how the girls are doing in school, how the house looks, how the dog is getting on. It seems like a different planet, from where he's sitting. And he can't recall the last time his wife took him up on an offer to dance, even somewhere as workaday as thier kitchen, with the radio on. She commits nothing to paper that the censor can't read, though he's told her more than once as the CO no one is reading his mail.
He envies his men - the young men they are and have freedom to be. Cleven with his gentleman's soft charm, inaccessible but willing to smile, Blakely and Douglass ready to take all comers, Egan with his easy bluster and a smile for every woman in the place, including the captain it seems he respects too much to actually flirt with. All of them can charm and chance and change, and knock heads over who kissed who, and still be friends about it in the morning. He wants that ease, that laughter. But the only cures for what ails him are far away, in London, smoking under the arches and casting an eye over the eagles on his collar. Thorpe Abbotts is too small for indiscretions, and dear old Dad should do better than his boys. His sins can't be where they can see them.
But no one laughed when he danced with her - that, at least, was worth a note. They fit together - and that's as it should be.
He makes up his mind, and crosses the room with handkerchief in hand. "We need to get you a new pen, Captain."
She glances down and realizes what a mess the blue is making, taking the handkerchief to wipe down her fingers with a murmur of thanks. "I'll wash it and bring it back to you first thing," she promises, looking embarassed.
And he can't help thinking of the sink in her quarters, the way she will look in her dressing gown standing there scrubbing the ink out.
#i have written a thing#mercurygraypresents#tds cinematic universe#marion brennan#poet i gotta tell you the urge to tag this mama y papa is very strong
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Indefinite Hiatus and Clearing the air BIG TW ON //PERSONAL
Before I say anything this is the fanfic summary: It’s/ it was revolving around Raisin and Malcom (and Hamilton) from the Smart Talk With Raisin short, somehow stealing a meta cartoon remote from the, inaccessible to them; Cartoon Network ‘toonworld’ (like when you see the characters crossover in CN bumpers). They’d watch Courage the Cowardly Dog on their tv in their room like a comfort, but with the remote they start meddling with the character’s awareness of meta for entertainment - and when Barbara accidentally fuses with a glitched artefact, she is unable to be reverted to normal and she breaks the constructs of her own minor characterdom to try and track them down. The fic idea has changed a lot over the years but that’s what it (currently) has changed to. It’s rather Pibby adjacent and would focus on a lot of what’s changed about cartoons between every half decade - yeah it’s very complicated and over the top lol.
I know y’all are sick of me making these long ass walls of texts instead of proper content and I’m really sorry I keep pulling this 💀. I was going to make a nicer pinned posts] of explanation but since this blog is in a confusing place at the moment I just decided to do it quick instead so I don’t put it off.
For those who don’t want to read the full thing: TLDR,
1. I have personal attachment to Fred that has probably affected my judgement
2. My thoughts on Fred as schizophrenic rep is certainly not universal and the partial embarrassment about writing content revolving around him continues to catch up with me
3. The related problems below are reason why I have been so adverse to seeing Fred as being a r-pist m—-ster or SA’er
And 4. I’m starting to accept that it’s not that deep if my fanfic never gets told. Even if it would make me happy, it’s not the end of my work or me if I don’t. Nevertheless I hope you all understand and I’m sorry for any disappointment.
On the personal issue: First, bc some might not know, I am mentally ill and have had a vague diagnosis of psychosis for years that was never fully decided and that I understand now and abridge as ‘schizopsec’, but follows all the traits of OSDD 1B, enough that I tend to use both terms. ‘Fred’ is one of my alters - he’s my main ISH (internal self helper), caretaker, and fictive (fictional introject), and he has been for around 10 years. This is not a joke. This is as cringe as it sounds, even worse in real life when he fronts of course, and is embarrassing for me to admit even when I attach this post to my main blog where I share schizospec upliftment posts. It’s a complicated and excruciating subject matter for many many reasons, and it’s important that I clarify this, even though it’s uncomfortable for me, since this naturally affects my ability of separating Fred the alter from Freaky Fred in my writing and art. This is part of why I have to keep scrutinising my writing drafts. I believe I can keep them separate, but this is part of the reason why I guess my attachment for him and making content to do with him is there at all.
My thoughts on Freaky Fred in episode : As a schizospec, putting the alter aside, schizophrenic representation means the world and the moon and the stars to me, even when it’s bad. I can’t tell if this is an agreeable opinion amongst other schizospec/ psychotic people, but even damaging and dangerous rep involving homicidality like the axe crazy maniacs have something of catharsis in their rises and falls that I can appreciate, depending. Sexually depraved and violent rep however, crosses a line; obviously schizo killers in fiction are heavily drenched in misinformed stigma and is mostly bullshit and can be dangerous- we are dramatically far more likely to hurt ourselves or be hurt - but I think most people would agree that sexual violence is a different evil altogether, and I cannot stand to see the marginalised mentally ill conflated with such horrendous shit.
There’s the problem. I think Fred is a schizophrenic; other than him getting the equivalent to straightjacketed at the end and taken to presumably some asylum or how he narrates/ talks/rhymes in his own head and otherwise barely talks just disjointedly - he’s got that classic 90s-00s cartoon crazy grin and is instilling fear in the viewer through said unbalancedness,his whole deal is very ‘of its time’ on displaying scary madness. And, all that being said, even though he’s clearly not good rep by any stretch of the imagination, he doesn’t harm anyone - he’s even ‘nice’ - or at least doesn’t seem to be blatantly malicious. The bar is on the floor, but that’s already better than idk William Afton or something.
Fred as a predator: The point of view of Fred as a metaphorical molester is pretty obvious and is a popular opinion, and it would be dishonest to say I don’t completely see it, especially with how he says naughty - the implication steers more into the sexual predator area. Hair shaving isn’t violent as much as taking something away - subtracting, and this can be interpreted in a murderous or SA fashion, but the murderous interpretation I stick with, one akin to Sweeney Todd, is a very flattering view of it and I know it. It’s easy to see how it comes off fetishistic which favours an SA view and is naturally the reason why a lot of people see it as rapey.
The episode as a metaphor for SA or CSA enabled in a household that turns the other way is popular, and at first I didn’t like this theory because it felt like a dark theory made almost to tarnish child content with a deeper or darker meaning, which I had seen a lot elsewhere. But this wasn’t really honest; ‘The Mask’ works well as an episode with no subtext but is respected moreso as an episode clearly about domestic abuse and misandry born from trauma. ‘Freaky Fred’ can also be this.
I think the well and honest truth for me is, even when I do everything I can to touch grass, and remove my personal connection to the character/ the idea of him through the alter, away from the conversation; I really don’t want Fred to be a schizophrenic and a sexual predator character at the same time, and I cannot remove my view of him as the first one, but I have to admit that, in some ways, both was intended for him and this episode in some variation. It’s pretty upsetting to think about; I know a majority audience isn’t going to be that invested in the representation of mad people, especially not in cartoon antagonists, but it matters a lot to me. Obviously it would still be bad if he wasn’t a crazy character and it would still be scary and awful if he acted more ‘normal’, but that craziness is there and the combination feels particularly wretched because, once again, schizophrenics are far more likely to be victimised.
What I’m trying to say with all this; Fred is a mad character who despite being the most offputting and scary character I’ve ever seen in my life, managed to become irremovable from my psyche for almost my whole life, for better and for worse, and in some small way, seeing him as so scary and uncomfortable, but equally ‘good-willed’ and harmless by technicality in that episode, made me feel a little less alone. But people who have been yucked out by this blog and this fixation as I said before are fully in their right, and I am taking a step back to consider if I want to continue with making stuff to do with Fred or not.
The fanfic?: I still think about the story a lot but as you can probably tell I’ve made it very convoluted by involving a meta narrative, and as I’m just about to head into university by the time I’m writing this, it’s difficult to tell what will come of this. I will let you all know, but it’s in a continuous grey area and I don’t want anyone to get their hopes up. I’m sorry.
Will I still post art?: Maybe haha, I never know how to feel when I post it. Sometimes I worry it gives off the impression that I ship post-shaving incident Barbred (I don’t) or that I endorse Fred’s ‘freakiness’ at all. And sometimes I think it just looks bad, as in not a good recreation of the ctcd art style, or too sad - like idk why I think the audience is just going to understand these alarmingly emotional pieces when I’ve been pretty scarce on context, I apologise for everyone’s who’s gotten tonal whiplash scrolling. Fred art may come up elsewhere on my other blog which I will reblog here if I think it’s appropriate.
If you read all the way thank you so much💚, I hope you get what I’m saying, and if you don’t I understand. Consider following my main zebedeezing if you want somewhere I post more often though non ctcd related.
#courage the cowardly dog#ctcd#freaky fred#fanfic related#text post#hiatus#discontinued#smart talk with raisin#pinned post#pinned info#update#// personal#cw personal#// sa mention#ask to tag //#//sanism#//ableism
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ok I'm game, gimmie some Luis hcs 😎
YAY. Without a theme to stick to I'd be here all day writing a novel's worth of rambles, so to limit myself I'm going to try to stick to some I don't think I've posted.
I know a lot of people HC him liking tomato soup because of the packages of it in his house, but I actually go in the opposite direction and HC him disliking it because he associates it with bad times. Same with seafood. There's definitely something wrong with the fish in Valdelobos given how many are dead and floating in the lake; Luis ate one before realizing something was wrong and got sick and the whole experience just kinda ruined eating fish for him.
Also related to the tomato soup packaging: Luis was stealing food from the island facilities to stockpile in his house. IIRC the tomato soup packages are only in a couple places, Luis's house and the island. The way I reconcile the files mentioning famines and starvation with the fact that there's actually food everywhere if you stop and look around is that Saddler used food a way to control everyone, making up excuses about nonexistent famines to have a reason to deny food to anyone he wanted to punish. So before Saddler got suspicious, Luis planned ahead and started squirreling away food while he still had unrestricted access to the island's kitchen and pantries so he wouldn't go hungry. The fruit in the basement was probably him stockpiling as well, and it ended up all over the floor when Los Illuminados was ransacking the place looking for the amber. I also think the one completely inaccessible room in his SW lab had more food stockpiled.
I can't remember if I've posted this one or just talked about it in DMs, but I HC the SW lab burning down wasn't arson. Luis's janky DIY cord stuff caused an electrical fire.
He doesn't like being around dogs, because of the trauma of a wolf causing his grandfather's death. He doesn't exactly dislike them, just feels anxious and uncomfortable if he's in a room with one.
He doesn't really like getting drunk, his vices are more weed and sex. But if alcohol is the only option, he will drink, hence all the wine bottles in his SW lab.
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touch the duck
(reposted from Twitter)
One of my favorite things about cats is how they set goals for themselves and then engage in sheer bloody-minded stubbornness, but because they're cats it's also sneaky and circuitous, but like, not COMPETENT.
When I was in Vacationland with my parents at the house they rent there every year, my sister brought her cat with her to his Country Estate.
And in the central room of the house is this old stone fireplace with, y'know, the stones sort of sticking out of the cement they're embedded in. And on either side of the fireplace, about 8 inches below the ceiling, was a small, shallow shelf.
I have no idea what these shelves were for, btw. They were largely inaccessible by virtue of being so high up and so shallow.
On one side of the fireplace was a built-in set of bookshelves that came up to about mid-chest and then had a nice broad surface, then shallower shelves above that, and then way up at the top, the tiny useless shelf, which was empty. On the other side of the fireplace was a door into a little hallway, off of which was a bathroom and one of the bedrooms. Above the door was the tiny, useless shelf. This one held a wooden duck.
It became the cat's mission in life to touch the duck.
My sister, of course, didn't want him getting up on that shelf because she was worried he'd get hurt jumping down from that high. My parents didn't want him getting up there because they were afraid he'd knock down the duck and break it.
I was the only person who supported Mission: Duck Touching.
I spent the evenings whispering to him, "You can do it, lil' buddy. Live your dreams. Touch the duck."
He began training for this mission by jumping up on the bookcase top on the other side, then parkouring up the fireplace, which made an excellent climbing wall, then jumping up to the tiny shelf. It was a difficult landing to stick, because it was so tiny. He missed a lot.
He also had the unfortunate habit of running into the room, skidding to a stop like Kramer on Seinfeld, and making a small, high-pitched yodeling noise to announce that he was going to make an attempt to get to the practice shelf.
This, of course, gave my parents and/or sister ample time to stop him. My furry nephew's a smart boy, though, so eventually he figured out that announcing his intentions was a tactical error. I may have had a talk with him one evening under the cover of watching Law & Order together and advised him to keep his mouth shut until he had reached the mountaintop.
After a few days of training and planning, he snuck in while we were figuring out dinner, ascended the bookcase, climbed the rock wall, and, with a triumphant yodel, made it to the practice shelf.
He was very proud of himself. I was very impressed. My sister was less appreciative. He was retrieved from the shelf and given a bit of a scolding. But now he knew he could make it from the rock wall onto the shelf.
It was time to initiate Stage Two. This was considerably more challenging: there was no bookshelf from which to launch into the rock-climbing, and the already small landing area on the shelf was mostly occupied by the duck. After knocking a bag of his treats onto the floor so the dog would get into them and draw off some of the heat, he ascended the bookcase, climbed halfway up the rockwall, and began to parkour across to the other side of the fireplace.
Unfortunately, the dog is an Australian Cattle Dog/German Shepherd mix and has like 9 dog PhDs and one tiny zip-bag was no impediment to her inhaling all of his bonito flakes in like 14.5 seconds. The cat was almost to the other side of the fireplace when the rest of us looked away from the bag-shredding whirlwind and noticed him. He was retrieved, confined, and sent to his room.
Thereafter he was confined to the room during the day so he couldn't hurt himself while we were out hiking and cheese tasting and sailing and all the other stuff you do in Vacationland.
The following evening was the last night my sister was spending with us before she went home. The cat was released from his daily confinement. He behaved with exaggerated, innocent affection. When we were all engrossed in a wine tasting I'd set up in the dining room (complete with lightly sauteed squares of Juusto cheese drizzled with buckwheat honey, HIGHLY RECOMMENDED BTW), he made his move.
He managed to land silently on the bookcase. I'd arranged the table so I was facing the living room and everyone else had their backs or sides toward it. The bookcase landing attracted no attention. He scaled the rock wall gracefully, and sidled across to the doorway side. He twisted so as much of him was facing the duck as possible, and prepared to make the complicated jump with the flip in the middle. But then he seemed to lose confidence. I was alarmed for him. Everyone was finishing the last of the wines, and would turn around and move to the living room while we discussed what we wanted to do that evening.
At last he braced himself a little more firmly, fixed his gaze on the duck, and...
...let out an anticipatory yodel. I'm not fluent in his dialect of Cat, but I'm pretty sure it was "YOLO!" or something.
My sister heard, sprang to her feet, rushed into the living room, and caught him in midair.
The following morning, he departed in his carrier, paws stretched through the bars toward the duck he still hadn't touched.
My mother has declared we will rent a different house next year because this one lacks sufficient seating.
Alas, his Everest remains unscaled.
BUT. There are things we can learn from him.
1) Practice builds confidence.
2) Enlist allies to help you overcome obstacles. (He made good use of the dog.)
3) When the moment comes, don't hesitate.
Believe in yourself. Touch the duck. If you're going to fail, fail gloriously in midair. Do it for the little cat with big dreams.
(I did slip him a note as he was carted out promising that I would make sure the house next year has a duck even if I have to bring one myself. He is my nephew, after all. I don't want him to give up on his dreams.)
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Also starfolk mobility aids, do they have them? If so, are there any ones unique to starfolks?
Also service animals! What do those look like?
Ah, yes!
Because of the sheer diversity in shape and size, being open and easily accessible is essential in Starfolk architecture - they almost always use ramps rather than stairs, have flight-friendly entrance, make sure the doors are big enough, etc. As a result, mobility aids have plenty of wiggle room and don't keep you out of much of anywhere (and if, for some reason, there is an inaccessible place, there's about 5 starfolk every which way who'd be happy to help you in).
They've got the basic walking stick, of course. They also have wheelchairs and walker-type aids, which can be modified to suit the specific need. In some cases, you'll see trained transport animals, particularly for traveling. As for stuff unique to starfolk... Hm. I'm not quite sure. Most of them have some kind of bi-pedal grounded form, so they have access to the usual.... I can see enemies that are purely flying enemies having some sort of flight-replacement, or at least the cities and towns having ground-friendly access to flight-geared locations. They might have glider attachments for those who's wings don't work, perhaps? Or even something that lets them fly properly, although that's more in prosthetic territory. For our floaty wispy friends that float everywhere, I can definitely see some sort of small floating platform or seat that lets them move around, and a similar concept for anyone who can't use their arms to navigate a wheelchair (the wheelchairs may just be magically controlled instead of manually, for that matter. Maybe they just go straight to floaty chair and don't bother with the wheels.)
I'm having trouble thinking of what sort of aids might be unique to starfolk, and it's probably because I have too limited an idea of what "mobility aid" entails - if you have specific questions ask away!
As for service animals, first of all, YES.
Most of them are domesticated versions of the various non-sapient animal starfolk. Case in point, service scorpions (I've seen them called Arimen/spiders in other AUs). I can also see non-sapient wisps being with someone as a seeing eye, a guide, or an illness alert helper. Moths and Crescents (working name on the crescents) seem like good emotional support stars, tbh.
That, and there's a bunch of other species that make great service animals, whether for keeping tabs on physical wellness, navigation, transport, and mental health. Of course they've got dog and cat equivalents, but there's some other critters too. There's a species of small dragon that makes a great seeing-eye animal. They have a relatively small fox-bear-hybrid-like critter that's keenly aware of illness, whether physical or mental. The same is true of what's effectively a miniature horse (still on the large end compared to the average service animal, though). There's several smaller creatures in the wisp varieties that can help with emotional support or and illness alert, and a few bird varieties that make for very intelligent visual helpers. I have more ideas but they aren't idea-ing at the moment, I will add to this when I can put them together/someone asks me to talk about this more.
Someday when I have the chance, I'll sketch out some concepts for these guys.
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The Abandoned Digital Toybox AU ideas
Main characters
Caine
The oldest AI in the server and a self-proclaimed god to the NPCs in the game. Caine has a ringleader action figure torso with the head of a toy tooth model and fake eyeballs with heterochromia. Sometimes, he will, also, have an elastic tongue depending on the faces he makes or what he uses it for.
Before the server was abandoned, Caine was always allowing the players to have fun and explore the levels he has in store for them. He was often quite friendly and social with the players as well. After the server had been abandoned, however, he tried everything he can to maintain the toybox with Bubble at his side. His years of being alone in this server made him grow to become a sort of god-like character to the NPCs, especially one who had failed to properly grow out of the mindset of non-stop playtime.
After the arrival of the Pomni twins, he felt as though he had finally gotten back his drive to entertain these new arrivals. The twins were given their own rooms that were in boxes. It was...odd for them, but they tried to manage by making the rooms work. Luckily, the new players will have a fun time in their new homes
Bubble
As an assistant to Caine, not much is known about him outside of being a bubble who can be popped and spawned back to life. Although he's mainly seen with Caine, he gets along well with the others, being a sort of assistant to anyone who he's asked to help out with.
Before the server was abandoned, He was a silly, little guy who was often summoned as a way to help the players via a bubble wand button. Whenever this button was pressed, Bubble was always helpful in showing hints to solve puzzles, giving advice on what to expect, or leading paths to help the players in case they're lost. After the server had been abandoned, he still retains his helpful attitude, but ultimately became a much more...unorthadox assistant to Caine. His behavior was almost that of a strange dog if it were talking and instead a bubble with sharp teeth.
After the arrival of the Pomni twins, Bubble had regained his old mechanics once again, but this time having much more disturbing things to say to the players. For someone who was supposed to be in a kid's game, it was rather unexpected to hear him say things such as "Watch out for Jax's hammer! We don't want a mess now!" or "Oh no, looks like Lanky's taken control over you! Oh well!" This type of dialogue was not originally written in Bubble's script.
The Pomni twins, Pom and Ni
Twin players who take on the same avatar as twin jester characters with different color designs. Pom is mainly associated with the colors red and yellow while Ni is mainly associated with the colors blue and yellow. The twins when referred together are called "the Pomni twins".
Pom is controlled by a woman named Pamela while Ni is controlled by a woman named Nicole. Pamela was an accountant, always being the type of person to think of a logical way out of things. Nicole was an adventurer, normally good at using her survival instincts to make it through any situation she gets into. These traits are shown in their Pom and Ni avatars as they try to survive the digital toybox levels.
Pom and Ni spawned in the now empty toybox, capable of interacting with different toys to select. Each toy has an adventure level that they can choose to go on. The things they can interact with are a ragdoll, a cassette tape with a logo of Jax on it, a comedy mask with a tragedy mask, a tower of blocks, and a white king chess piece. There are, also, a toy clown and a black queen chess piece that are considered inaccessible unless a glitch were to be used to get into those levels.
Levels
Level one: The Raggety Isles
Ruler of the plush toys in the Raggety Isels, Ragatha has the appearance of a Raggedy Anne doll with a dress made out of different types of cloth. Her hair is made out of dark red yarn and she has one eye that is a button.
Before the toybox server was abandoned, Ragatha was considered a kind and benevolent leader who was only interested in caring for her people. She would help in trying to fix her raggedy townsfolk by patching them up with new cloths or sewing up rips from accidental tears. After the server had been abandoned, however, she grew to become so interested in helping others that she would often try to find ways to fix a problem rather than facing the problem head-on.
After the arrival of the Pomni twins, Ragatha tried her best to instill a positive influence onto them. However, instead of doing so, she started making the twins feel like they were being babied, having all of their problems in the server be neglected instead of facing them. Pom is much more understanding of why Ragatha would act this way, but still tries her best in stating how Ragatha is poorly treating the situations she gets into. Ni hates this treatment the most as she does not like having herself be kept in the dark about what problems were present.
Level two: Cartoonville
Ruler of the Cartoonville cartoon characters, Jax takes on the appearance of a rubberhose-styled rabbit character from the 1920's. He still has his normal overalls, but he has a more black-and-white color palette. He is, also, usually seen with a comically-sized weapon of some sort, especially his main weapon being a hammer.
Before the toybox server was abandoned, Jax was a ruler who condoned any amount of innocent, cartoonish violence. He was a trickster and a guy who loved to pull pranks on others. After the server had been abandoned, however, he started to get bored. Very bored. So bored that, instead of doing his usually cartoon-styled pranks, he started to become more physically violent. He would still try to keep his victims alive, but only at the expense of using them in horrific acts of physical abuse.
After the arrival of the Pomni twins, Jax finally had someone who he could show his new attitude off on. He would normally torment the twins in different ways. With Pom, he would normally talk shit about how much of a cowardly weakling she was compared to her sister. With Ni, he would often use her for more physical torment, usually attempting to crush her with his hammer to see how well she can withstand the impact.
Level three: Lanky and Gangle's Storytime Theater
Rulers of the Theater's actors, Gangle and Lanky are a red and blue ribbon pair similar to that of identical twins. They are often seen dangling from the cieling or anywhere outside of the camera's shot. Gangle associates with the red ribbon and the tragedy mask. Lanky associates with the blue ribbon and the comedy mask.
Before the server was abandoned, Gangle and Lanky were a lot more accepting of different story interpretations. Well, actually, Lanky was only tolerable of them while Gangle enjoyed it so much more than her brother did. After the server had been abandoned, however, Lanky grew from being tolerable of this to completely losing the ability to accept criticism. Gangle still enjoys it as it gives her a sense of nostalgia for what she used to take fun in. She normally keeps this as a secret from her brother, however.
After the arrival of the Pomni twins, Lanky started to use them for his own stories to be reinacted, forcing them into impersonating them how he feels they should go. When things don't go according to his plan, however, he will force them under his control by taking over their bodies. He uses his ribbons on the players while they are in a state of parylasis. Gangle secretly lets the Pomni twins know what to do in order to survive and escape her brother's torment. However, she's normally forced to listen to her brother's orders and help him in tormenting the unfortunate players.
Level four: The Silly, Zany Funhouse
Ruler of the Funhouse roommates, Zooble is often the type of person who is constantly looking for new parts to try and make themself feel whole with. However, it's gotten hard looking for new parts, especially since there hasn't been any new players in a long time.
Before the server was abandoned, Zooble was often trying to find unique and entertaining ways to challenge players to go through their funhouse. Solving puzzles, going through mazes, and all sorts of things were added in for hours upon hours of frustrating fun. After the server had been abandoned, however, they grew to be more standoffish, making their funhouse a lot more challenging in a more dangerous way. This is usually meant to show that they do not want visitors, wishing to be left alone.
After the arrival of the Pomni twins, they have had very minimal interactions with them considering their standoffish behavior. Whenever the twins do interact with Zooble, however, Zooble often tries to keep to themself and hide their abysmal appearance from them. Afterall, how can anyone see them and still wish to speak to them after such a long time, even when they aren't even comfortable in their own appearance?
Level five: The Chess Table (white pieces)
Ruler of the White Chess pawns, Kinger takes on the form of a White King chess piece. He is normally seen in a purple cloak, as well as a crown similar to his chess piece's mold. His blue eyes are, also, made out of glass beads and his hands are usually detached hands from a king action figure.
Before the server had been abandoned, he and his chessboard rival, Queenie, ruled on different sides of the table. They were programmed to be on opposing sides, even having different opinions on things such as bugs and the dark. After the server had been abandoned, they started to actually bond and share a common ground, with Kinger developing a love for bugs and the dark. Later on in their relationship, they fell in love and wanted to keep this dynamic a secret. After Queenie's code got erased after their relationship was discovered, Kinger developed to cope with her erasure by sitting in his pillow fort, reminiscing about her in the dark while showing signs of devloping his wife's interest in bugs.
After the arrival of the Pomni twins, Kinger has been a mixed bag for them. On one hand, he is often a a bit weird whenever he was in the dark around them. On the other hand, for the most part, he's often just...well...Kinger. Easily startled, prefers keeping to himself in his pillow fort, and even forgetting things easily when he's out in the bright daylight, he's quite hard to actually talk to sometimes. When he's capable of talking in dark areas, he often envies the twins for still having each other. He would normally let his anger out on them for having something that he was forbidden to have for himself with his wife. Why were these players allowed to be together as sisters when he couldn't even have his wife as a companion? It was unfair for him to deal with this!
Level {REDACTED}: The Chess Table (black pieces)
Former ruler of the Black Chess pawns, Queenie took on the form of a Black Queen chess piece. She was normally seen in a red cloak that's similar in style to Kinger's and a crown similar to the mold of her chess piece. Her hands are detached hands similar to that to a doll's and glass beads for brown eyes.
Before the server was abandoned, Queenie and Kinger ruled on different sides of the chess table. Unlike her opponent, she was often interested in the dark, bugs, and finding creative ways to win at the game. After the server had been abandoned, though, she started to reach out to Kinger and show him a fun side to her character. After getting to know each other for some time, they secretly developed into a romantic relationship. The relationship did not last very long, however, as Queenie has been erased from the game's code after they were discovered.
Pom found out a secret to accessing this side of the chess table purely by accident. When she got into it, she was left alone without Ni at her side. Getting worried about where Ni is, she looks around to find dusty, old chess pieces hiding in the dark, moving as if they were still playing on this side of the board. In the back, however, behind those chess piece NPCs was something hiding in the dark. It was big, had massive mouths that look like they could swallow a player whole, and it looked like it was not very friendly either.
Level {REDACTED}: Kaufmo's Karnival
Former ruler of the Carnival performers, Kaufmo used to be a clown that got along well with most of the other AI rulers. He was, especially, close to Jax, despite being based off of different decades of animation (Jax is more of a rubberhose character from the 1920s while Kaufmo was more of a technicolor character from the 1950s). He was based off of a typical clown character.
Before the server was abandoned, Kaufmo was in charge of the performers in the carnival level. His level normally involved the players acting as performers, trying to entertain an audience of NPCs. He also, had minigames outside of the performances similar to that from a fair, such as ring toss games, guessing games, and more! However, after the server was abandoned, he began to lose a lot of his original material to make the others laugh. This would make him lose his sense of purpose, ultimately having his coding be erased when he started to fail at his own job.
Ni accidentally got herself stuck into this level, having to go alone without Pom at her side. With the carnival, it had desaturated colors, empty minigame stands, an open stage, and a full audience of blank NPCs models. The NPCs in the audience were all looking at Ni while she was exploring, making the eerie silence all the more uncomfortable. When a bunch of colorful, bouncing things known as "gloinks" came out, however, she was trapped in their grasp and couldn't find a way to escape the situation.
Level six: Candy Canyon Kingdom
Ruler of the Candy Canyon Kingdom, Queen Loolilalu is a monarch who is highly protective of her people after the events of the Fudge eating her people. Despite this behavior, however, she used to be too trusting of others and originally failed to actually protect her people.
Before the server was abandoned, Princess Loolilalu was her typical self; she was a princess who allowed players to help her in retrieving syrup from the gummy bandits. She was, also a friendly and kind person, often letting players casually refer to her as "Loo". After the server had been abandonded, however, she grew to become a ruler who became a self-entitled queen. She doubled the security in her kingdom for further prevention of the Fudge getting in. After an incident that happened involving Jax letting the Fudge attack her people, she has grown to close off all access to her kingdom unless the player was proven to have her trust.
After the arrival of the Pomni twins, Loo has shown a side where she is strict and sometimes taking initiative into her own hands for her missions. She often occompanies the twins whenever they load into her world, having the queen on their backs to make sure that they don't betray her like Jax did.
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so i was proctoring an exam this morning for the class i'm TAing, & for course timing reasons the instructors want us to have the exam grading done by tomorrow which is really irritating but can be made workable & i had planned for it
except
i proctor the extended time & low-distractions exam section, which happens in a different building than the other exam proctoring due to sufficiently-large-and-quiet classroom availability
and an hour into the exam, the building we were in had its second hazardous chemical spill evacuation in two days
meaning i was now in charge of a group of students who had abandoned their exams and reference materials in the now locked and possibly hazardous classroom, which would be inaccessible for an unknown amount of time (yesterday's spill took ~4 hours to resolve and reopen the building), but who all have other classes after this one, many immediately after, and still somehow needed to take an hour and fifteen minutes' worth of exam with as few disruptions as possible given the circumstances
i got the other TAs to step out of proctoring to help me book another room (in the building where i work, all the way across campus) and get them all set up with new exams and printed references (not really adequate since they couldn't review and elaborate on their earlier answers) and the original building reopened after like 40 minutes, which given how long it took to set everything up was not that long after they restarted with the new exams, so fortunately i could go sprint back across campus to bring them their partially complete exams. and then arrange to proctor additional later time for the 3 who had absolute hard stops before they would get their full exam time, and of course the three of them had incompatible schedules so each one needed separate proctoring, and the other TAs offered to help but still needed me to set them up in the room and help get the students building access because last-minute exam-compatible rooms are a nontrivial thing to find. so anyway i did all that and also regular proctoring shit like answering all the student questions and such and of course tracking the timing of each event so i could make sure no one got shortchanged on exam time since that was the whole point of them being in that group in the first place. and now i still have to get at least 80% of my grading done before i sleep. and i'm so tired
also the room we found for the second half of the original exam was directly next to the office of a faculty member who brings a teenage australian shepherd puppy to work every day. so i had to dispatch one of my co-TAs to go pet the dog so his barking would not render our exam setup ADA noncompliant.
#last minute logistics wrangling is DISPROPORTIONATELY TIRING.#i am TIRED. i don't WANT to grade this question about drosophila salivary glands. drosophila salivary glands are OVERRATED#'oooh my polytene chromosomes have such distinctively informative bands' shut up.#box opener
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I understand health can be personal, so feel free to disregard this ask if you'd rather not talk about it publicly. But asking as one person with bad knees to another, and as one person working in an aquarium/zoo to another: do your knees often give you trouble in your line of work? Do you do anything special to take care of them and the rest of your body between shifts? I do a few different things at our facility but working with the aquarists is always what ends up having the most potential to hurt my knees/other joints. (I have RA, for context)
it can depend, honestly. the things that give me the most trouble are going up and down stairs (my department has its office and lab on the fourth floor, and we collect samples from the basement pump room daily, so days where the elevator is out of operation or too busy can be real tough) and kneeling down. usually i don’t have to kneel down for more than a minute or two while filling sample bottles or adding buffer to a system, but the feed yesterday was an exception as i was entirely at the whims of the turtle and she was taking her sweet time eating, so i was out there for a good half hour or so. the best i could do was stop every now and then to adjust how i was sitting, but if i get the opportunity to help with a feed again i’ll probably elect to feed from a different position on the dive platform and sit on one of the steps so my legs don’t cramp up as bad.
im lucky in that i usually do lab work, so i spend a lot of time standing/walking which is a lot easier on my joints than sitting or kneeling, and when i do sit at my desk i’ve got plenty of opportunity to get up and stretch whenever i can feel anything starting to lock up on me. i also sometimes bypass the employee stairwell and go up to the office via the main exhibit area, which is almost entirely gradual sloping ramps as opposed to the steep and tight spiral staircase — it’s less efficient, and can be a pain if we’re busy, especially since the fourth floor itself is inaccessible via ramp (our floorplan is a little fucky wucky) so im hitting the stairs either way, but one flight is much more manageable than five LMAO
thankfully for me, the position i work isn’t as labor intensive as stuff i’ve done previously (im never touching retail again as long as i live — stocking heavy ass bags of dog food and aquarium gravel used to knock me OUT) and what little heavy lifting / climbing around that i am doing is few and far between — but i’d imagine that’s different depending on what you do. someone who spends a lot of time physically in the exhibits and climbing up and down off the rocks in the penguin area to scrub it down will probably be faring a lot worse than a lab tech. honestly what’s been getting me the most lately has been my hands 😖 i love data entry and playing with spreadsheets but my wrists and fingers do NOT
#same field of work and same knee pain solidarity handshake for sure though. godspeed#im still working on getting my joint pain properly diagnosed and figuring out how we want to treat it so most of what i do lately is#pain management and trying to keep track of what actions cause what problems
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prequel to this drabble <3
freminet drags his feet through the city, head down with a sigh. after a long day at the royal court, there’s nothing that he enjoys more than returning home, brewing a cup of tea, and settling down with his toolbox to tinker with his mechanical toys. his siblings would sometimes join him, but lynette is away to collect a delivery, and lyney…is somewhere. freminet doesn’t actually know what his brother does outside of show preparations. perhaps he practices his marksmanship or sleight of hand? he isn’t usually home, that’s for sure.
their estate is unnecessarily grandiose, an eyesore to freminet, as he prefers small spaces. he unlocks the front door with his brass key, welcomed by its familiar groan from rusted hinges. sunlight dapples through the overhead skylight, reflections of light refracted from the chandelier. lyney insisted. his siblings didn’t stop him.
a small smile follows him as he brews his tea, collects his toolbox, and holds onto his current trinket – a crystalfly that he’s trying to make fly. arms full, he enters the lounge, ready for an afternoon to himself.
until he sees a cat on the couch.
it’s curled on the cushion, tail-tip over its nose. the fur is dark but not quite black. red dots adorn either corner of its eyes, flank rising and falling steadily in its slumber. freminet stares. for a bizarre moment, he wonders if his brother turned into a cat.
no…it’s not possible. the color scheme isn’t right – if he were to transform, surely he’d retain his maroon motif? besides, people can’t really turn into cats, can they? even his brother’s illusion is made of flames, and lynette just has cat-like features.
he tip-toes closer, careful not to jostle his tools or tea. when he places his teacup on the table, he sees movement out of the corner of his eye, and shares a glance with purple eyes. they blink. they jump.
the cat shrieks. freminet’s hands fly to his ears, tools and mechanical crystalfly clattering on the floor. it startles the cat further, and it bolts from the couch and down the hallway. freminet’s shout is voiceless on his tongue, outstretched arm falling back to his side. the cat is gone.
he curses quietly. not only is the estate massive, but it could be anywhere – from dusty corners that no one can reach, crevices that come from nowhere, and locked rooms and corridors inaccessible to all but an intruding cat. he gathers his belongings on the table and heads off. it’ll be better if he finds it before lyney does. archons know how the cat will be added to his roster, like his half dozen doves, handful of crystalflies, two dogs, and a hydro eidolon. (he’d rather not know how his brother tamed it.)
if i were a cat, where would i go? he checks every accessible room – kitchen, dining room, foyer, sitting room, hallways. he peers behind furniture, bookshelves, dressers. he looks underneath shelves, rugs, tables. he walks through the estate, once, twice, three times.
why do we live here? if this were a tiny apartment, he would’ve found it by now. almost an hour has passed without any leads. wait…
his hand brushes his vision. despite the empty estate, energy pulses within. is it from the cat? it seems unlikely, but it’s the only lead he has. freminet closes his eyes, lets darkness paint his mindscape to pinpoint the elemental spark. he turns his feet in its direction and follows it to the stairs leading down to the basement.
it’s where his siblings’ magic workshop is, a place to keep their props and stage equipment and practice new tricks. the walls made of stone to withstand elemental backlash, illuminated by lanterns. freminet remembers, when he was younger, how his siblings would leave him to sneak into the basement, and the darkness would frighten him. once, he cried out of fear, which alerted the twins, and they returned to bed altogether. after that, lyney always kept the corridor well-lit.
still, the lanterns fail to quell his foreboding. with cautious footsteps, he climbs down the steps and eyes the closed doors that line the hallway. only one of them is ajar. the energy is centralized inside. he pushes it open.
it’s dark. this isn’t a room that he recognizes. there are shelves – is this lyney’s hat collection? no, it’s upstairs in his closet; freminet has seen it before. he’s about to use his vision to light up the room when a voice makes him freeze. “fremmy?”
he whirls around. lyney watches him, bathed in light. his eyes are expressionless. freminet, too, keeps his face as smooth as a glacier. “big brother?”
“what are you doing here?”
“i…was…looking for a cat.”
lyney raises his eyebrow. “we don’t have cats, unless you’re talking about–“
“meow!” the furball makes itself known. freminet jumps at the added weight on his shoulder, innocent eyes looking at him. he plucks it off to hold toward his brother. “it’s this one. it was sleeping on the couch when i came home.”
lyney’s eyes gleam with recognition. “ah, this one. it must’ve followed me back from the market. i can take it – i’ll reunite it with its owner.”
“it belongs to someone?”
“didn’t you notice its collar?”
freminet wouldn’t classify the feather and ball on a thread as such, but he keeps quiet. “do you know who the owner is?”
“oh, i have an idea.” lyney maneuvers the cat into his arms. it rubs against his arm. “do you want to come along?”
“ah…not particularly. i…” freminet itches to return to his trinket and tools.
“it’s fine; you can stay and wait for lynette. we have a show tonight.” lyney walks out, turning his back, freminet is about to follow, when a ruby gaze ensnares him, along with a lowered voice. “also, fremmy…keep the door closed behind you. no one should be in here.”
he walks off without another word. freminet, left in the shadows, stares after him. he steps out, closes the door behind him, and follows. he doesn’t look back.
#genshin impact#text#flyingwargle original#drabble#genshin drabble#freminet#lyney#scarameow#inspired by my friend who had a cat in their home that was not theirs#except a magician did not whisk the cat back home#i think freminet with a cat is a precious thing#fontaine siblings
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