#bug woman looks so drastically different every time i draw her

[static-scribblez]

Wanted to experiment with a softer artstyle :)

[gamora-borealis]

Rethinking GitF as Tenrose Meta

So I'll admit, Girl in the Fireplace has flaws. I totally get why a huge amount of people hate it. But even as a huge Tenrose shipper, it has never seemed to bug me as much as it does for some, probably because I seem to interpret it in a different way. 

So first of all, the Doctor has probably dreamed of meeting Reinette for a long time. So when he finally meets her grown up, he is a) thrown off by this attractive woman who is drooling over him (in a lot of fanfics the Doctor can like, smell hormones and stuff lol) and b) excited that this is a woman he has always dreamed of meeting. Rose even ends up being impressed with her ("the doctor was right about you") and cares about her welfare after she goes to warn her (she asks if she is alright even though Mickey is yelling at her to go).

But to understand the dynamic between the Doctor and Reinette and Rose, we have to go back.

In School Reunion, there is a shift between the Doctor and Rose. Before, they were flirty and happy. But immediately, at the beginning of the episode, the Doctor makes a point of calling Mickey "YOUR boyfriend" and Rose seems happier to have Mickey call her than you would expect. Something happened after Tooth & Claw. Later in the episode, Rose mentions an unseen fight between her and Shireen over the Doctor. Maybe this was very recently and the Doctor overheard their fight, which caused him to bring up the fact that Rose had never actually broken things off with Mickey, leading to some drama. There's the line from GitF where he says "I let you keep Mickey!" which seems to be a comment about Mickey in general and possibly referencing a previous conversation, considering Rose didn't even want him on the TARDIS.

Anyway, enter Sarah Jane. The Doctor is forced to confront the life-span difference that makes happily-ever-afters hard for him. At the end of the episode, he allows Mickey to come along, despite Rose fighting it. He looks somewhat guilty when he agrees to let Mickey come along, but most likely not because he cares about Mickey or Rose's anger. He wants Rose to embrace that there is a life for her out there without him, since he can't give her the life he wants to, considering he will have to watch her grow old and die while he stays young and/or changes into someone else.

So going into the next episode, the Doctor is already trying not to think about his feelings for Rose. So enter this beautiful woman he has admired for a long time! He seemingly is ready to embrace this infatuation, knowing Rose is on that ship with Mickey because of a choice he made.

Reinette actually ends up being a bit of a matchmaker. When she sees inside the Doctor's mind (which I think was showcasing her cleverness, and that the Doctor did want to share those thoughts with someone who understood), she comments on how he is "lonelier now," and eventually decides that "every lonely little boy must learn how to dance." Now yes, she wants to dance with him and can sense him missing Gallifrey, but I think there is more to this. She could clearly see the thoughts at the forefront of his mind. She had to have seen stuff about Rose. So in the end when she wants him to dance, her demeanor seems more concerned with him "learning to dance" than she is with her wanting to dance with him. I think she saw that he was trying to push Rose away, but that he needed to "learn to dance," as in live in the moment and embrace his feelings. The way "dance" is used here, and the fact that he comes back with a banana, draws a connection to The Doctor Dances - in which the Doctor is finally starting to embrace his feelings towards Rose. So she uses this moment to dance with him like she desperately wants to, but also to teach the Doctor a lesson.

Reinette makes it pretty clear that she saw the stuff about Rose in the Doctor's mind too, when she implies that Rose knows how "The Doctor is worth the monsters" in the same way that she does - as in the way that she loves him.

Now with the whole mirror-breaking thing, we don't see the Doctor say goodbye to Rose. However, he may have said something to her in a rush during his frantic attempt to save history and we didn't see it, but him suddenly leaving is not too ooc - considering what happens in Journey's End when he leaves her and Tentoo without saying goodbye. Just like in Journey's End, time is ticking and if he doesn't make an important but drastic choice quickly, he may never leave her, leading to some bad consequences (aka why Ten left while she was kissing Tentoo).

Also, he most likely did not leave Rose abandoned. Like we saw in The Parting of the Ways, he has it set up to where the TARDIS can take Rose home in case of emergency. He may not have told Rose this was set up and ready, as he hoped he would find a way back to the ship in time. He probably bet on attempting to find a previous version of himself to take himself home. Still risky, but Rose well knows what has to be done to save the day (like in The Parting of the Ways, she is just "too good" to want to run away from an event that could mess up time/destroy the world.) So Mickey asks if they are stranded, and she doesn't respond - probably because she knows they could get in the TARDIS and go home, but she is going to wait as long as possible for the Doctor, because she can't risk letting him go if there is a chance he could come right back. It is even shown how she and the Doctor are both looking up at the stars in the same way, as if they are both yearning for each other.

Then Reinette reveals that he is going home. She doesn't even ask if he wants to stay with her, not even for a while. She knows that he wants to go back to Rose and the TARDIS, and so she takes him back. She of course wishes he could stay, but she lets him go. Her vibes here remind me of Martha, who would do anything for the Doctor because she loves him but ultimately accepts that he doesn't feel the same way and lets him go.

Then, the Doctor immediately runs and hugs Rose. He tells her "always wait 5 ½ hours," implying that she didn't have to wait but that she chose to, and he is so happy that she did. If he really loved Reinette like he loved Rose, he would have made a bigger deal about leaving Versailles. Then the Doctor goes and invites Reinette along. It doesn't seem like he does this out of "being in love with her" or anything like that, but just for the thrill of "oh my, I'm really taking someone I admire who would have never dreamed this would be possible in the TARDIS!" - (sort of like in Vincent and the Doctor??). The Doctor admires Reinette but she is not a long-term partner to him like Rose is. 

When he goes back to get her, he is sad that she essentially died waiting for him, and that she died so young. He does not particularly care for the King, most likely not out of jealousy but because he literally set in motion a shitstorm that eventually led to the French revolution, and the Doctor probably thought that Reinette deserved a bit better. When Rose sees him back on the TARDIS, she seems to finally understand his speech from School Reunion. She gives him a look like, "oh, that is what someone dying before he wants them to does to him."

Then in the next episode, the Doctor and Rose seem to be close again and smitten with each other as he literally doesn't notice Mickey accidentally killing the TARDIS because he is too busy being flirty with Rose. He took Reinette up on "learning to dance" and has finally embraced that he wants Rose, to the point where Mickey senses this and leaves Rose for good. None of his comments to Rose about the Doctor's potential to leave her for another woman seemed to work, because in the end they ended up not being true.

[ariela-of-aedyr]

🙏💍🍵🎁🗺️ for each of your Watchers? (or as many of them as you'd like to do, anyway ;-D)

Thanks so much for the ask! It’s taken me literally three nights to finish answering this (largely because I kept getting distracted, but still), cos I actually did answer for all of my Watchers, like an absolute fool! Threw in a read more, since it got lengthy.

(Missed out the adventure question for Ari since I answered it previously, but I answered it for everyone else here)

Ariela:

🙏 Is your OC religious in any way? Why or why not? Do they have other beliefs that govern them in any way?

Ari definitely isn’t particularly religious. There’s not a reason why, so much as the Gods just didn’t really play a big part in her life until after she became a Watcher and they started popping into her head on a semi-regular basis to ask her for help. She thinks she might have been Eothasian, had history gone differently, and she whole-heartedly believes that her mother’s soul is a part of Hylea’s court, but otherwise, she doesn’t really think that much about religion.

She believes in doing right by others, though, and lives her life always trying to do what she can to improve the lives of those around her.

💍 Does your OC have a specific item that is priceless to them but may (or may not) be completely worthless to someone else? Is there a story behind this item or is it just because they like it so much?

She has a couple, actually; all sentimental things. Some letters from her father from during her youth, a bracelet which had once belonged to her mother, a couple of Vela’s baby things that she just couldn’t get rid of. 

🍵 Are there any rumours about your OC hanging around? Nasty ones or just good humoured? Got any gossip to share about them?

Back in Aedyr, almost certainly. The family members who had been conspiring to kill her cleaned up all evidence of foul play and made it appear that she’d just packed up and abandoned her family for no reason, and I can imagine that they’ve spent the years since she ran spreading unpleasant rumours about her.

In the areas that she’s visited since becoming a Watcher, though, there’s probably some good-natured rumours. Exaggerated tales of her exploits; things that make her sound larger than life. And anyone who ever spent any amount of time in Caed Nua recounts awe-struck stories about her love of sugary treats. 

🎁 What would be the perfect gift to buy your OC? What would be the worst gift? Are they themselves any good at gifting things or are they really indecisive? How do they wrap their presents?

My gut instinct is to say, like, cakes or biscuits would be the perfect gift for her. But honestly, Ari would love and cherish any gift that came from the heart, and is probably particularly fond of homemade things, regardless of their quality.

She’s very good at gift giving; she pays particular attention to what her loved ones like and dislike, and thoroughly enjoys anticipating their needs. She’ll sometimes buy her friends random gifts, and present them with little fanfare; new boots when she notices that theirs are looking worn, enchanted items after she’s seen them struggle in a fight. For occasions, though, she wraps her gifts prettily, to the point that the person receiving it feels bad for ripping the paper.

Aubrey Stargrove:

🙏 Is your OC religious in any way? Why or why not? Do they have other beliefs that govern them in any way?

As a self-taught Priest, Aubrey is definitely religious. She’s incredibly devoted to Wael, to the point of often making very poor life choices because she believes that it is what Wael would want. She found Them at a crucial time in her life; struggling with her amnesia and starting to lose hope that she might ever figure out who she had been before. Learning about the God of Secrets, Mysteries and Revelations helped to rekindle that hope, and she considers Them the thing that helped her find the strength to keep on going.

💍 Does your OC have a specific item that is priceless to them but may (or may not) be completely worthless to someone else? Is there a story behind this item or is it just because they like it so much?

Her travel journal, for sure. She keeps a log of everywhere that she’s visited inside, complete with sketches of landscapes and people, and pressed flowers and plants from each area. She considers it priceless, because she knows that if she was ever to lose her memory again, this would give her something to help her to remember the life that she lived.

🍵 Are there any rumours about your OC hanging around? Nasty ones or just good humoured? Got any gossip to share about them?

There’s almost certainly a lot of rumours about her all around Eora, since I feel like people would probably talk about That Weird Orlan Woman Who Rolled Into Town, Did Strange Things, Then Left After a Couple of Days Never to Be Seen Again… even more so after she’s become a Watcher, and some of those ‘Strange Things’ involve, like, talking to the dead.

If she stays in a town for any length of time, she starts subtly spreading rumours about herself, all wildly different, just to see what kind of things stick and what kind of reputation she ends up with.

🎁 What would be the perfect gift to buy your OC? What would be the worst gift? Are they themselves any good at gifting things or are they really indecisive? How do they wrap their presents?

Any kind of art supplies would probably be the perfect gift for her, or something practical like a pair of sturdy shoes or a warm jacket. But she’s also pretty fond of shiny things and any kind of knickknack, so little collectable type things would probably go down a storm as well. The worst thing to buy her would be something like jewelry; expensive things with no practical use.

She’s terrible at giving gifts. When she does give a gift, 90% of the time it’s probably a prank, so it’s probably not great for the receiver. She’s very good at wrapping, though, and draws beautiful images on the paper.

🗺️ Does your OC like going on adventures? Have they ever discovered something really interesting and significant or are they just too busy getting lost? Where is their favourite place they’ve been? Least favourite?

Aubrey loves adventuring! She’s been travelling and exploring almost literally as long as she can remember, and drastically prefers life on the road to time spent staying in one location.

She doesn’t necessarily have one place that she considers her favourite, but she loved being back in the Deadfire again, and really enjoyed having her own ship this time round, so maybe The Defiant (or whatever I end up renaming it for her later in her playthrough). She’s probably petty enough that The Hall of Revealed Mysteries was her least favourite place, since her experiences there… left a lot to be desired.

Mia:

🙏 Is your OC religious in any way? Why or why not? Do they have other beliefs that govern them in any way? 

Mia considers herself to be religious, though religion isn’t really a big part of her life. She’s a follower of Hylea, and tends to pray through song, at least once every few days. She likes to celebrate all of the creative souls in the world, and tends to support artists of all different kinds.

💍 Does your OC have a specific item that is priceless to them but may (or may not) be completely worthless to someone else? Is there a story behind this item or is it just because they like it so much?

Her collection of scripts and music is fairly priceless to her, as she’s poured her heart and soul into each piece, and she’d be devastated if she were to lose her life’s work.

🍵 Are there any rumours about your OC hanging around? Nasty ones or just good humoured? Got any gossip to share about them?

Well, she is famous, so that would figure. Her old troupe probably spread around some rumours about her being a self-absorbed diva, which… I mean, isn’t entirely untrue. But she’s working on improving herself. Most of the rumours about Mia are definitely pretty catty and unpleasant, honestly, largely fueled by jealousy.

🎁 What would be the perfect gift to buy your OC? What would be the worst gift? Are they themselves any good at gifting things or are they really indescisive? How do they wrap their presents?

She’d love jewelry or flowers, or clothing or accessories. She’s definitely accustomed to people buying her the finest and most expensive things, though she’s trying to unlearn that expectation and has been doing her best to try and appreciate genuinely heartfelt presents.

She’s definitely not good at giving gifts. She probably had ‘people’ to do that for her before her days as a Watcher. She almost certainly asks the shop assistants to wrap her gifts for her, though she tips them handsomely for doing so.

🗺️ Does your OC like going on adventures? Have they ever discovered something really interesting and significant or are they just too busy getting lost? Where is their favourite place they’ve been? Least favourite?

Mia despises going on adventures. She hates the outdoors. There’s mud, there’s bugs. There’s people and things that want to kill you. She’d much rather be warm and safe at home, surrounded by luxury.

She’s glad to have had her adventures, though, as they’ve helped open her eyes to the world around her, and made her realise how privileged she really has been, and that there is so much more going on in the world than she had ever realised.

Faenna:

🙏 Is your OC religious in any way? Why or why not? Do they have other beliefs that govern them in any way?

Faenna isn’t sure how they feel about the Gods any more. They followed the teachings of Galawain for most of their life, but found themselves starting to have questions and unsurities after the deaths of the rest of their hunting/mercenary group. These concerns only amplified after the revelations about the Gods Origins (and then the whole revelations about the Godlikes in Deadfire).

💍 Does your OC have a specific item that is priceless to them but may (or may not) be completely worthless to someone else? Is there a story behind this item or is it just because they like it so much?

I haven’t settled on anything solid, but they probably have a small collection of personal items from the friends that they lost, which are incredibly sentimental to them. They also place a high value on their surgeon’s tools, which they’ve kept in pristine condition over the years.

🍵 Are there any rumours about your OC hanging around? Nasty ones or just good humoured? Got any gossip to share about them?

They don’t really talk about their past, so I feel like there’s probably a decent amount of rumours from people who like to gossip and make up potential stories about them. And back in the Living Lands, I think there’s likely rumours surrounding the incident in which their friends were killed, with people claiming that they only survived because they abandoned their group, or that perhaps the group died because of their incompetence.

🎁 What would be the perfect gift to buy your OC? What would be the worst gift? Are they themselves any good at gifting things or are they really indecisive? How do they wrap their presents?

Much like Aubrey, Faenna definitely appreciates practical things. A decent gift for them would be good boots, new arrows, or something to replenish their medical supplies. The worst gift for them would be a hat.

They almost certainly don’t give gifts; they’ve been trying to keep others at a distance after the deaths of their friends. But if they did, I can imagine they’d probably be rather practical things; a utility knife, a lantern, etc. They’d probably be rather good at wrapping, as they’re pretty patient and have a steady hand.

🗺️ Does your OC like going on adventures? Have they ever discovered something really interesting and significant or are they just too busy getting lost? Where is their favourite place they’ve been? Least favourite?

Faenna really likes adventuring. They don’t have that much interest in history or exploring urban areas, but they absolutely love losing themselves in nature. Their favourite place was likely somewhere back in the Living Lands, maybe an area that their group tended to meet up in or camp in on a regular basis. Their least favourite place was the Endless Paths, which started to feel almost claustrophobic for them the deeper that they went, and then finally ended with them having to face their worst nightmare; a dragon.

Anik:

🙏 Is your OC religious in any way? Why or why not? Do they have other beliefs that govern them in any way?

Anik isn’t particularly religious in the traditional sense, but he believes in the Universe. He believes strongly in fate and destiny, and that all things happen for a reason, and truly believes that the Universe will guide him to where he needs to be. He thinks that the Gods are sometimes mouthpieces for the Universe, but that is pretty much the extent of his interest in them.

💍 Does your OC have a specific item that is priceless to them but may (or may not) be completely worthless to someone else? Is there a story behind this item or is it just because they like it so much?

He wears a bracelet; just a simple leather band, with almost shoddily made charms attached, which was crafted for him by his family and friends before he departed The White That Wends to follow his Destiny. It wouldn’t appear to have any kind of financial worth, but it’s the most priceless thing to him, as it reminds him of where he came from, and who is rooting for him back at home.

🍵 Are there any rumours about your OC hanging around? Nasty ones or just good humoured? Got any gossip to share about them?

I can’t imagine that there are that many rumours about Anik. He’s a pretty chill guy, and tends to do right by others when he isn’t keeping to himself. There might be people who have known him who think that he is crazy for believing in the things that he does, but aside from that, I can’t imagine there would be much gossip about him.

🎁 What would be the perfect gift to buy your OC? What would be the worst gift? Are they themselves any good at gifting things or are they really indescisive? How do they wrap their presents?

Anything heartfelt would mean the absolute world to Anik. Whether it’s a shell or a cool rock that you saw and thought of him, or something that you’ve poured your heart and soul into crafting, it would all make his day. The worst thing to get him would be something generic and store-bought.

He’s probably very hit and miss when it comes to giving gifts. His gifts will either be the most perfect thing for you, or they’ll be something that makes you go “oooookaayyy”. He tries, though, and that’s what counts. He’s not great at wrapping, and the presents usually end up with the weirdest shapes.

🗺️ Does your OC like going on adventures? Have they ever discovered something really interesting and significant or are they just too busy getting lost? Where is their favourite place they’ve been? Least favourite?

He does like going on adventures; he truly believes that it is his destiny to do so. He’s found many interesting spots along the way, and one might think that he gets lost a lot, but he’ll insist that he’s right where the Universe intends for him to be. His favourite place was probably Sun in Shadow, because he both found it incredibly interesting, and was able to complete a big task for the Universe there. His least favourite place was the In-Between, and he’s not super anxious to return any time soon.

[supercasey]

The Perfect Child

Description: Michael Peterson was raised to be the perfect child. Perfect grades, perfect manners, perfect actions... unfortunately, his little brother wasn't. When all you've ever known is perfection, how can you possibly handle average?

A/N: So this is my first “creepypasta”, although I’ve been writing for about six years now. I really love reading creepypastas, so I finally gathered the energy to write one of my own. It’s not as scary as it could be, so it’s more an allegory for my own insecurities. Constructive criticism is appreciated, but please refrain from being too harsh (I’m a huge wimp lmao). With that said, I hope you enjoy this piece!

Hello, my name is Michael. I am a seventeen year old boy, and I’m a perfect child. Please, allow me to explain:

I was born mid March, 2002, in Kansas. I was born on a hundred acre property, settled out of the public eye. When I was young, I saw nothing wrong with this. My life, as far as I could tell, was like any other child’s. From the moment I was able to walk, I was surrounded by other children, and for the most part, we were left to our own devices. The land we lived on held numerous barns, which were our room and board. We spent many a day running in the open fields, catching bugs, and playing small games together. We didn’t have names; we didn’t know what a name was. We didn’t talk either… no one had ever heard a word. No one screamed; those who screamed would be gone the next morning.

Three times a day, a siren would go off in all of the barns. Instinctively, we would all return to our beds (beds we had never once thought to move or not sleep in), and we’d find bowls of food waiting for us. It wasn’t sludge or nasty garbage either; we had steamed vegetables, baked chicken, eggs of all varieties, and much, much more. We didn’t know where it came from, it was always just there, waiting for us. No one had ever taught us to eat, but we ate in a dignified manner nonetheless, never spitting out our food or opening our mouths midway. After we ate, we would go right back outside to play in the sunshine.

It never rained. It never snowed. We had never seen a cloud in the sky before. The sun would rise and set indefinitely, and we never bothered keeping the time. We only played. Sometime when I was around four, my life changed. That day had been like any other; I slept, played, and ate. But that night… I went to bed, but I couldn’t fall asleep. This had never happened before. When I sat up and looked around, I saw a few other kids weren’t sleeping either. They were just as confused as me. Everyone else was out cold, unable to wake up, not that we tried to wake them. Suddenly, a group of adults filtered into the room, dressed in full body hazmat suits.

No one said a word- again, we had no concept of language- and we didn’t move either. We just let them approach us (an adult for each conscious child), pick us up, and carry us out of the barn. Once outside, they took us towards a building I had somehow never noticed before. It wasn’t a mansion, but it was easily three stories tall, and was painted white with a lovely blue trim. The adults took us inside, and in there, everything about my life was drastically changed. After being tucked into a brand new bed (though it looked no different from my old one) and falling asleep, my mind adapted.

When I awoke, I could speak. I spoke fluently, something no normal four year old could do. The other children could do the same. We could also read, write, and draw, things that were improved upon throughout the next year. For one year, the adults, who never once removed their hazmat suits, tutored and taught us within that house. We weren’t allowed outside anymore; that was for the little kids. I excelled at everything they told me to do. I washed the dishes best, was the most creative artist, spoke the most clearly, and was reading at a high school level by the time I was five.

The day before I turned five years old, I was pulled aside from the other children, and taken into the basement. I had never been in the basement before. It was nothing like any basement I had ever heard of, either. The walls were a beautiful redwood, and the carpeting wasn’t the least bit cold, even though I wasn’t wearing socks. Quickly, I was led into a small office, where I finally met an unmasked adult for the first time in my life. Behind the ivory desk sat a plump, mid aged woman with greying hair, dark brown eyes, and saggy skin. In front of the desk sat two women, both young and beautiful, decked out in their finest attire.

As soon as we walked in, one of the young women cooed at me- something I had never heard before, but I knew what it was from reading of it- and held her arms out to me. Without missing a beat, I smiled at her, and obediently walked up and hugged her. I had never given, or received, a hug before. Both women were ecstatic, and for the rest of the meeting, I was traded from lap to lap, both women taking turns cuddling me. The meeting was more of a business transaction than anything else; the lady behind the desk showed the two women a binder, filled to the brim with information on me. She listed my traits, my mannerisms, and health record. All perfect, just as ordered.

At the end of the meeting, the older woman- who I learned was called The Provider- seemed happy, and with a big smile, took a sheet of paper out of a drawer and laid it on the desk, presenting it to the young couple. It was an adoption form. The two ladies gladly filled it out, giving me my first and only name; Michael Damian Peterson. Afterwards, the employee who had brought me in scooped me up, took me out of the room, and got me ready. I was given a long bath, dressed in a red sweater with blue overalls, had my hair cut to be shaggy but short, and was fitted with a pair of white socks and black sneakers.

Once ready, I was returned to the young couple, who gasped and cooed at what I was wearing. Again, I was never set down, and they swiftly completed the transaction- handing The Provider a check for ten million dollars- and left. Internally, I wanted to run around the moment we stepped outside, as I hadn’t been outside in a year, but it was dark out and I was very tired, so I didn’t fuss. The couple took me to a sleek, brand new black minivan, complete with a hot rod flame design on the sides. When they opened the backseat, I was greeted with the sight of a large booster seat, and was strapped in immediately.

We left soon after, driving down a seemingly endless road. The windows were darkened, and with it being nighttime, I couldn't see a thing. It was then that the couple explained what was happening. Their names, to me, were Mama and Mommy, and I was to be their new son. They had always wanted a child, but due to their professions, they were unable to have or even adopt one through legal means. It was then that they were approached by a friend, who raved to them about the incredible work Perfect Children did. They then learned about a remote farm, out in the backend of Kansas, that specializing in producing ‘perfect’ children.

I was told, in no uncertain terms, that I was bred to be perfect, but they admitted that not every child bred by Perfect Children was that way. In fact, more than ninety percent of them weren’t even close to perfect. So… what happened to the ones who weren’t perfect? I was told that they were picked out early in the program- around five to six months of age- and placed into the Bad House. A little ways away from the main buildings, sat a large, decaying barn, that was overflowing with needy, loud children that simply weren’t good. Sometimes they got better, Mama admitted, but those were very rare.

Again, I was confused. What happened in the Bad House? Mommy filled me in. “Those children… who simply aren’t perfect,” She had actually sighed, clearly disappointed. At the time, I thought it was with the company. It was only when I got older did I learn that she was upset with the children themselves. “Those children are for slaughter.”

“There are people in this world- and especially in our profession- that also want children. But not for raising,” Mama had seemed… hesitant to tell me these things, but after getting a nod from Mommy, she swallowed, then continued. “Sometimes, people want to have an imperfect child for… leisure. Maybe when you’re a little older, I’ll tell you more, but for now,” She put on the warmest smile I had ever seen, and before I could react, a little screen emerged from the roof of the van. “How about some TV, sweetie?”

I don’t remember the rest of the car ride. In fact, most of my memories of the farm have faded. Most of what I know now was learned later in life, but I do, somehow, remember my fifth birthday. When we arrived at our destination, the sun was rising, and I could finally see out the windows. What I saw… was incredible. Just on the horizon, I could see a massive, luxurious mansion. Even from a distance, I could see the first bits of the garden, surrounding the mansion in a field of different flowers. Mama must’ve noticed my gawking, because as I was looking, she cheerfully told me that the mansion I saw was OUR house… my new home.

When we arrived, there were already people waiting. Mommy and Mama’s friends. None of them had children of their own, but they cheered as Mommy parked the car, and came running once Mama had me in her arms. The party was spectacular. Everyone brought me at least five presents each, and they all gushed over me, telling my mothers how precious I looked. My manners were impeccable, and I never once acted out. I allowed the adults to pass me around, and even when they weren’t hovering around me, I still kept up my manners. I even offered to clean the dishes, something my mothers assured I could do later.

That night, I was brought to my bedroom. The room was painted baby blue, and despite having unwrapped enough toys to last me a lifetime during the party, my room was already filled with plenty of toys for me. I was promptly tucked into bed, read a bedtime story, and given two goodnight kisses. I fell asleep immediately.

From then on, I was the perfect child. Once enrolled in school, I was the best of my class. I never once got anything lower than 100% on all my assignments and tests, I was friendly with everyone in my grade, and I volunteered to help my teachers at every occasion. My mothers always beamed at the praise my teachers gave, and when pressed for how I could possibly be so good, my mothers would exchange a knowing smile, and happily tell my teachers the same answer each and every time: “Love.”

When I was six, my mothers wanted another child. I was unable to feel any form of jealousy. A week after my birthday, I was left with a babysitter, and when my mothers returned home, they brought me a brother. He was five when he arrived, just like I was, but he was… different. Where I was well behaved and honest, my brother- named Kyle- was good… to a point. He was ecstatic the first few weeks, clearly happy to be living with me and my mothers, but he soon began to make mischief.

I remember his first big prank. It had been a few weeks after he arrived, and while we were playing quietly in the living room, he asked me for a cup of water. I did as told. As soon as I opened the fridge, a jug of Kool-Aid spilled on me. I didn't cry. I didn’t get angry. I cleaned up the mess, approached Mama, and told her what had happened. When she questioned Kyle about it, he burst out laughing at the sight of me, still drenched in Kool-Aid. Mama laughed too, at least a little, before sentencing him to a time out. He took it calmly, and afterwards, it was water under the bridge… or rather, Kool-Aid under the fridge. Mama never could get the stain out.

Not a week later, and another prank occurred, this time getting Mommy. Kyle had taken the liberty of collecting every grasshopper he could find and hiding them in Mommy’s purse. The scream she let out when it opened was incredibly loud, and instinctively, I fixed her up a mug of hot chocolate while she went about punishing Kyle. He got another time out, and was made to write an apology letter to Mommy. He did so, though his handwriting was sloppy, and the incident was again forgiven.

But his misdemeanors continued. It quickly occurred to me that Kyle was one for mischief, but wasn’t outright malicious. He just liked to frighten folks, and wanted to make us all laugh, though he didn’t understand why no one else found him funny. Things soon got worse. He too was enrolled in school, but he took it badly. While I continued to excel, he barely passed anything, and routinely got into fights and arguments with his classmates and teachers. I tried to help him; I took a few punches for trying to end fights, and even if I ended up getting on the other student’s good side, my brother would get right back into it the moment I stepped away.

While my mothers had taken Kyle’s pranks and misbehavior somewhat well beforehand, they didn’t care for his school troubles. They routinely lectured him as to why he needed to get better grades, treat others better, etcetera. But he refused to behave. By the time I was seven, my mothers had reached their limit.

It was June when Kyle was returned. I was woken up at three in the morning by a frazzled Mama, who I obeyed to the letter. I dressed myself in my clothes and followed her out the door, and into the waiting minivan. Kyle was already there, screaming and biting at his carseat’s buckle. Mommy was in the driver’s seat, panting and angry, but with determination in her eyes. Mama turned up the radio several times on the way there, but Kyle’s screeching was hard to drown out. I tried giving him kisses and hugs, but he only bit and hit at me. When we arrived at the farm… I felt an icy chill up my spine. I stood beside Mommy and Mama outside the car, the sound of Kyle’s sobbing almost deafening.

There were no children in sight, and The Provider was waiting outside the farmhouse for us. She greeted my mothers kindly, and asked what they were there for.

“A return.” Mommy had said, her voice chillingly calm.

“Oh?” The Provider had appeared confused at first. She turned to me, head tilted. “And here I thought this one was one of our best products… was there a malfunction?”

“Oh no, not with Michael. He’s just as perfect as we’d hoped,” Mama explained, all of her usual kindness and love on display. However, it seemed to slip away- like a mask- the moment she brought up my little brother. “No, the problem is with Kyle.”

They was an audible sigh from The Provider. “I should have known… yes, I hate to say ‘I told you so’, but I did warn you about that one. I must ask; what else did you expect from an imperfect child from the slaughterhouse? Yes, they’re plenty fine for some, but when you’ve only ever had perfection,” She smiled at me as she said that, patting me endearingly on the head. “It’s hard to deal with normal children after you’ve had a taste of perfect.”

“That’s why we’re here, ma’am. We’d like to make… a return,” There was hesitation in Mommy’s words, and even at seven years old, I could tell she was second guessing herself. “We won’t have to see it happen, will we?”

“Heavens no! No no no… we’ll take it from here,” Suddenly, a few men approached the car, opening the side door and pulling out Kyle. They weren’t the least bit gentle with him. “In fact, we have a customer coming today for a ‘leisure’ child… I’m sure he’ll adore this one.”

“MOMMY! PLEASE, DON’T GO!” Kyle’s screaming turned to begging, the terror on his face apparent. I’ll admit, some part of me was confused; life here had only ever been kind to me, if not a bit boring. What was he so scared of? “I PROMISE TO BE GOOD! I’LL BE PERFECT! PLEASE!”

“Please hurry with him; I can’t stand that racket anymore…” Mommy rubbed at her head, a clear headache coming on.

Immediately, I retrieved a bottle of water alongside some Advil for her from her purse, holding the items up to her. “Here you go, Mommy. I love you.” I said, not even aware I was doing so. I was rarely aware of my actions.

The Provider grinned at me, chuckling to herself. “You see how much easier a perfect child is? So attentive, always willing to fulfill your needs,” She suddenly came closer, leaning in as if she had some big secret only available for my mothers. “You know, we have a few new ones that are ready for adoption… if you’d like, I’ll give you a good bargain for a replacement for the inconvenience. Perhaps a daughter? We have some precious little girls that are raring to go.”

It seemed to do the trick, as Mommy and Mama brightened at the news. Kyle didn’t. “NO! PLEASE! MAMA, MOMMY, I LOVE YOU! I’LL BE PERFECT! I’LL BE PERFECT! PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME HERE!”

“Can we see them?” Mama had entirely ignored Kyle, more interested in the little girls that were available. “A daughter sounds absolutely lovely.”

“Right this way then,” The Provider was quick to lead us inside, away from Kyle and the security guards holding him. “I have the most perfect little girls ready for you.”

I’ll be honest with you… my memory of Kyle is weak. Sometimes I think he was a dream. Other times, when I close my eyes, I can still see the smile he’d give me when he ate anything sweet, or played with me in the garden, or managed to get a laugh out of someone. That day, when we came back out to the car, a little girl in Mommy’s arms, Kyle was gone. I never saw him again. My mothers named my sister Scarlett, and just as promised, she was perfect. Together, we were perfect siblings. If one fell, the other helped them up. We played games together, but never roughly. We never once fought. We hugged and loved each other, all while strangers swooned over the ‘precious siblings’.

Scarlett also got perfect grades, was friendly with everyone in her class, and went out of her way to help her teachers. Again, my mothers were flooded with praise, and they grinned as though it was all their doing.

When Kyle’s old teachers asked about him, Mommy provided the news: “He passed away. Tragic, really.”

When I was fifteen, my life changed… again. Scarlett was thirteen. We had been at school, both at lunch together, when we were approached by two men in police uniforms. We cooperated entirely, and were led out of the school, into the parking lot, and into separate police cruisers. We didn’t cry. We didn’t ask questions. We obeyed. Once we arrived at the police station and sat down with the sheriff, we were given the news; Perfect Children had been discovered by the FBI, and promptly shut down. Inside the farmhouse, they had found all the records on every child that had been sold on the property. We weren’t allowed to see our mothers anymore.

Again, we didn’t cry. We didn’t ask questions. I held my sister’s hand under the table and we obeyed.

It’s been two years, and I’m only just beginning to become my own person. I’m still not sure exactly what Perfect Children did to make me the way I am… the FBI agent who lets me call her Mom says it was a lot of things; the food, the water, the subliminal messages that they played while I was sleeping, the chip on the back of my neck… but I’m getting better. We all are.

I’m living in a hospital for right now, living with all the other kids they could track down involved with the company… Mom told me it’s because we’re all too impressionable to be around regular people. We’re too inclined to obey, and now that people know what happened… they’re looking for us. They want perfection.

Scarlett handles things better than me. She can laugh on her own now, something she’s really proud of. She managed to prank me a few weeks ago. It wasn’t much, just switched my pillow for her’s, but it reminded me of Kyle. I told my therapist about him, and she says that I’m getting better, too. I can speak, sometimes, without being prompted. It’s not much, but it’s better than before. Yesterday, one of the boys yelled after someone stepped on his foot. We all got very quiet, but one of the supervisors started cheering, and pretty soon, other kids yelled, too. I can’t do that yet, but that’s okay. I’ll get better.

I don’t know where my mothers are… Mom says that they’re in prison, and not just because they bought me and Scarlett. I thought of asking what else they were in for- something that made me feel very, very wrong- but I didn’t. I’m not sure I want to know.

Someday, I’m going to get better. It’s hard to imagine not being perfect, but it’s also… nice. It’s freeing. I want to yell. I want to pull pranks. I want to laugh. Someday I’ll get there, and when I do, I’ll get out of this hospital and be a normal person. Scarlett wants to get an apartment with me, and I think I’d like that. It won’t be perfect- nothing ever will be again- but you know what? I’m excited. I’m happy. I’m getting better.

The kids they pulled out of the Bad House are doing better than any of us. Most of them are older- averaging in their mid twenties- so they act a lot like older siblings to all of us. They’re trying to help us yell, and think for ourselves, and take things. None of them are Kyle. I tried looking around, but I can’t find him. Deep down, where I’ve secretly always felt things, I knew I was never going to see him again, but… I had always hoped I could. One of the imperfect boys let’s me call him Kyle sometimes. He likes the name, and he reminds me of him, so we’re going with that for now. Scarlett won’t comment on it, but I hope she will someday. Any reaction is a good reaction around here.

For their hard work as tutors to us, some of the other perfect kids have tried to return the favor. We give them names, like how I named Kyle. They don’t always stick- Duncan didn’t like Lauren’s first suggestion of ‘Dragon Slayer’- but some do. We also help with handwriting, since almost none of them have ever written before, or read for that matter. Now when I go into the cafeteria, I can see a group of imperfects learning basic table manners, while a perfect girl tries to chew with her mouth open. Mom is proud of me- of all of us- and I think I am too. I’m not perfect anymore… maybe I never was. Oh well. I’m learning to not care.

Thanks for listening to my story… stay imperfect.

A/N: There! I hope you all at least liked it. If not, why not tell me why? BTW, the reason I gave the main character two moms wasn’t to try and be like “having two moms is bad”, I just want to normalize queer relationships, and if I can do it through my writing I like to do so. Have a great day!