#probably monster living bc that demands actual planning | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dastardlydandelion · 3 years

Note

Billy having the bust appendix episode?

so i combined these into one thingy??

also the latter, uh, it's. like?? i played w ur prompt, dude, chose to focus more on the concept of "not lasting" w susan and max tho bc if i write neil for too long it'll inevitably turn into another murder fic.

ao3 link

content warnings: referenced/discussed abuse, brief suicidal ideation

“Day four of fever, fella. That’s no fun.” Susan sets the thermometer aside with a frown and brushes the back of her hand over his cheek.

Billy blinks slowly at the touch. It wasn’t that long ago that he would’ve pushed her away. He hasn’t exactly enjoyed having the Stomach Flu From Hell for the better half of the week, but he supposes if there was ever a time to get sick, it’s now. Because these past few days have been the last few days he’s ever going to get with Susan and Max. He can use being sick as an excuse to let them get close like this. He can let himself let them close without feeling defensive or embarrassed because after tonight, he’ll never see them again.

“I feel better,” he mumbles as she brushes his fringe back, pad of her thumb gingerly lingering over the nick in his brow. “Really, Sue, s’not as bad today.”

And it’s not. Today’s Wednesday and he’s been feeling shitty since Sunday night, sluggish and nauseous with a nagging stomachache. He managed not to puke up Sunday dinner until Monday morning, although he didn’t actually make it to the bathroom. Susan scrubbed it out of his bedroom carpet even though Billy told her to leave it. Max stayed home from school to keep him company, which really…genuinely meant a lot to Billy, considering skipping school meant sacrificing some of the little time remaining with her friends. And she did it to just to hang out with his sweaty, grouchy, probably contagious and definitely less sociable self.

His stomachache got worse throughout the day but he hadn’t said anything about it to anyone. Didn’t say anything on Tuesday either, even though by evening it hurt so fucking bad it was like there was an invisible knife carving into his guts, blade twisting so terribly the only thing that helped at all was curling into a fetal position. Billy was almost frightened, actually. He doesn’t believe he’s ever felt worse than the torture he went through Tuesday, not even at his father’s hands.

But he couldn’t say anything. Not with everything going on. He wouldn’t do anything to possibly compromise the plan. Couldn’t let himself do anything that could delay their escape. So he sucked it up and kept his mouth screwed shut, endured in silence.

The relentless agony of nonexistent knives twisting through his guts kept him up all night. Then very early this morning, just as the sunrise’s first rays began to lighten the sky, the pain subsided. Billy still feels uncomfortable and he’d probably hurl again if he got a whiff of goat cheese or canned sardines, but it doesn’t compare to the misery of last night.

“How about I put the kettle on? Ginger tea is good for stomach bugs.”

“Nah.”

“What about chamomile?”

“No.”

“Peppermint?”

“Stop, Sue. I don’t want tea.”

“Please. You’ve barely kept anything down all week and you’re sweating like a turkey at Christmas. You’ll feel even worse if you get dehydrated, Billy.”

Susan retracts her hand with a fretful noise in her throat and turns to the door. With a sudden spike of panic that she’s— she’s leaving —he frees an arm from the blanket and grabs her wrist. Susan jumps as though she’s touched a hot stove. Billy immediately lets go. He wasn’t thinking.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Susan, I just…”

Chewing her lip, she nods down at him. She carefully sits on the edge of his bed, one leg folding on the mattress, opposite foot still on the floor. She takes his face in her chilly hands and Billy heaves out a sigh.

“I wish things were different,” she murmurs. “If the, uh…if the p-place Max and I are going accepted boys your age, you’d be coming with us. I promise I’d take you with us if I could.”

The shelter doesn’t allow male children over age twelve, Susan had informed Billy the night she told him they were leaving. She’d said it apologetically, eyes sorrowful like the look she’s giving him right now. She’s said it like it scraped her throat on the way out, tragic and grave as though she were reading him his own obituary.

It was the oddest thing Billy couldn’t begin to comprehend. He wouldn’t go with them even if going with them was an option. And never had he ever expected it to be an option. He doesn’t understand why Susan is looking at him like that.

“I just grabbed you. I shouldn’t have grabbed you.”

Susan’s face twitches like he’s the one being weird, like it isn’t she who’s looking at him with all these things he never wanted from her.

“You didn’t hurt me, Billy, just startled me a bit. I’m as skittish as a doe and of course today is…it’s a big day.”

“…what time?”

Susan spares a glance to his door. Still shut. Neil’s getting ready for work and he wouldn’t dare enter Billy’s room right now anyway. Wouldn’t risk catching whatever Billy has. He’d sent Susan in the bathroom Monday after Billy had barely stumbled out, wan from the latest round of purging, in drill sergeant mode and demanding that Susan bleach every contaminated tile.

“Noon. I want to drive in the daylight. Max is staying home from school. I told your father she caught your bug.”

Billy raises a brow.

“She didn’t,” Susan clarifies. “But he didn’t question the excuse. She’s sleeping in, I think it’s best to let her sleep in. It’s a big day.”

“Big day,” Billy repeats quietly.

Susan’s hands are still on his face, gentle and cool. Billy feels hot. The past few days he’s felt too cold or too hot, no in between. He’s either burrowing under the blankets to ward off the icy chills or laying on the bathroom tile to ease the sensation of roasting in his skin.

“I’m going to make you some tea, okay? You don’t have to drink it, but I’d appreciate it if you did. Fluids are important, Billy.”

Susan slides her hands off and Billy wonders if perhaps that’s the last time she’ll ever touch him. She leaves his room. Quietly closes the door behind her. Billy rolls onto his side and wraps his arm around his stomach, wondering if he should’ve let her closer before. If he should’ve let Max closer too.

Maybe it’s better he didn’t. Maybe losing them would hurt more if he did. And it does hurt. Even when the minutes tick down to the time they will exchange their final goodbyes, he’ll never say it out loud, but it hurts. It’s going to gut him when they go.

But it’s good that they’re going. And it’s good that he’s not. Billy ensured early on that Susan knew never to act like his mother. And Susan never seemed particularly passionate about trying, maybe there was even some relief for her that Billy had shut down every feeble attempt, that she never had to claim him. Billy never asked for Max either. The responsibility of a little sister. The pressure of having to set a good example for her, more reasons for Neil to be pissed at him whenever he inexorably failed. Max thought he was cool when they were younger, then there was that really rough patch after the move, and now things are better.

Things are probably the best they’ve ever been between him and Susan, between him and Max, and he’s going to miss them. Billy wants them to leave. Billy wants to be left. But the separation, the severing, the knowledge that he will never see them again pounds his heart like brass knuckles. He’s never going to watch Susan take another spider outside in a tissue, humming her weird little singsong. He’s never going to have to groan and roll his eyes over being Max’s designated chauffeur to the arcade, the park, the monster movie matinee.

He’s going to be alone with Neil.

Susan brings Billy a ceramic mug of steaming tea. She feels his forehead and probes at the sides of his neck, humming in concern. He would never let her fawn over him without a fight on a normal day. He’s only receptive now because he knows they aren’t going to be in each other’s lives anymore. He doesn’t know what to do with the fact that he kind of likes the fawning, but maybe he wouldn’t— maybe he wouldn’t like it at all if she wasn’t leaving, maybe the leaving makes it special. Or maybe it’s easier to think of it that way than to wonder if it would’ve been better to have this kind of relationship all along.

Billy watches the steam rise from the mug. He doesn’t touch the tea. He’s exhausted and he finds himself drifting, dozing off…

When Billy blinks his eyes back open, he’s dismayed to find his stomach hurting again. It might actually be the stomachache that wakes him up. Either the stomachache or Max in the doorway, hand on the knob.

“Are you awake?”

“I am now.” Billy begins to push himself up on his elbows, pauses when his gut lurches.

So much for that plan.

He settles back, and rolls onto his side, tucking his knees up to his chest under the blanket. Some of the pain abates. This position is still the winner.

“Are you okay?” Max rests her hand on the mattress, cocking her head to the side. “Do you need the trash can again?”

“Nah.”

“Okay…My mom’s loading up the car.”

“Yeah?” Billy really hopes she isn’t here to ask him to help. If she does, he will, but just the idea of rolling out of bed sounds like a grandiose effort.

“Yeah. Can I hang out for a little bit?”

Something thick rises in his throat. “Sure thing, shitbird.”

Max climbs onto the bed and over Billy, jostling him enough to make him queasy. She sits at his back. He can’t see her but he feels her hand settle on his shoulder.

“Your room smells like gym socks and barf,” she remarks, scowl audible in her voice.

“When you catch this from me, your room’s gonna smell the same way,” he mutters. Only after the words have left his lips, does Billy really realize what he’s said.

Max’s bedroom here on Cherry Lane isn’t really her bedroom anymore. Susan’s putting her belongings in the car. The next time Max gets sick, maybe it won’t be in a bedroom of her own at all. Or it will be her bedroom in a house far away from here. It’ll be a room Billy will never go in and he’ll never have the opportunity to tease her.

“I’m kinda nervous about the shelter, Billy,” she admits, voice quiet and unsure. “I was nervous when we first moved to Hawkins too. But this is a different kind of nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous,” Billy mutters. “You’re gonna be safer there than you are here.”

“Supposedly,” Max huffs. “You know Neil’s going to be pissed when he finds out. What if he comes after us?”

“I won’t let him,” Billy declares, meaning every word.

“Could you really stop him?”

Billy curls a little tighter in an effort to ease the pain spreading through his stomach. It’s beginning to be more than a nuisance but he’s doing his best not to be distracted. Max needs him right now. This is the last time he’ll ever be an older brother. That’s more important, that’s the thing he needs to devote his attention to. He never asked for the job and he hasn’t been exceptional at it, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try to soothe his soon to be ex-sister’s worries with her small hand shaking ever so slightly on his shoulder.

He cranes his neck back to meet her eye and flashes a winning grin he hopes looks less forced than it feels.

”Let’s put it this way, he’d have to kill me to get to you.”

Instead of being reassured, Max looks spooked.

“I really thought he was going to, you know. That night.”

Ah, that night. Billy knows which. He was feeling pretty ballsy, feeling strong and bold after a good workout and a couple of beers. When Neil got in his shit that night, for the very first time, Billy threw a punch.

He remembers thinking that things would go in his favor if he could just get Neil to the ground. That’s the last thing he remembers, actually. Thinking that. And maybe it really would’ve gone in his favor if he’d gotten Neil down. But he didn’t.

Billy doesn’t actually remember what happened. But it definitely wasn’t that.

“He wouldn’t really go that far, Max. Neil talks a big game, but I’m all he’s got and he knows it.”

Max doesn’t seem convinced in the least.

“I think that’s what made Mom decide we had to go,” she says quietly. “That night.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Billy says, tone sharp.

Max glowers, clearly disagreeing. Billy matches her stare.

“…I wonder if there will be other kids my age,” Max murmurs eventually, changing the subject.

Evidently neither of them want to argue their remaining time together away.

If there are kids her age, they’ll be girls, like Neil always wanted. No boys over twelve permitted stay. Billy shifts his head back, eyes sliding from Max and off to the wall. He’s starting to feel Tuesday night’s painful sort of nausea. Like his guts are going through a meat grinder.

“It’ll suck if I’m just surrounded by adults the whole time. However long that’s gonna be…Mom wouldn’t say.”

“Maybe she doesn’t know yet, Max.”

“Maybe not. She’s trying to keep her cool but I can tell she’s nervous. Even more than me and I can’t let on that I’m nervous at all, not to Mom, because then she’ll really flip her lid. She tried so hard to convince me everything will be okay at the shelter. She’ll feel like a failure if she knows I’m scared and Neil’s already made her feel a failure over and over. I won’t do it too.”

This is the last conversation they’re ever going to have. This is the last time they’re ever going to talk to each other. Max is on the precipice of another massive move to somewhere new. All the secrecy and uncertainties surrounding it make it all the more of a transition and Billy’s last job as her older brother is this conversation. He’s trying to focus on it, on her, but the pain in his stomach is growing more insistent.

“Billy?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think we’ll ever see each other again?”

Billy curls his fingers in the bedsheets and silently begs for it not to get any worse. Not now. Max is leaving, Susan is leaving, fuck it— his fucking family is leaving and he can’t do this right now.

“…uh…yeah. I’m gonna get out of this Hawkins dump as soon as I can. And I bet you and your mom will find somewhere for yourselves better than this dump too, without Neil steering the wheel…how about, five years from now, we meet up in Cali? At least you and me, Sue can come too if she wants.”

Billy doesn’t think she would. Things have been better between him and his stepmother, yeah, but. He knows what he is. And Max— Max too, really. She thinks she’ll want to see him again now. Things have been better and maybe there’s even a part of her that still thinks of him as her cool big brother, but when she gets some distance, she’ll get some perspective and neither of them will want anything to do with him anymore. By then he’ll just be one more ugly part of an ugly life, the wayward offspring of the enemy.

By then he’ll be nothing but a reminder and no one wants reminders.

Max hums thoughtfully. “Yeah. We could do that, right? I always wanted to go back to San Diego…”

She squeezes his shoulder and Billy shuts his eyes. It’s getting harder to ignore how awful he feels. His whole body sagging with the overall illness laying him low. The torrent of nausea washing over him even though he’s pretty sure he doesn’t have anything left to puke up. The vengeful reprisal of the invisible knife, carving into his guts with a silent wrath.

“…does that sound good? …Billy?”

“What?” He blinks rapidly.

“The zoo, sick brain.” She huffs a little and gives his shoulder another squeeze. “In five years, let’s meet up at the zoo. In the gift shop where you stole the lion keychain.”

“Hey, you remember that.”

“You stole a gag giraffe toy for me too, the squishy one. When you squeeze it, the eyes pop out.”

“Pfft, yeah…I said, ‘look, it’s your mom’ and slipped it in your backpack.”

“I still have that giraffe, Billy,” she continues, voice determined. “I’m bringing it with me. I’ll look at it every day so I don’t forget our meeting place.”

Billy doesn’t really feel like talking anymore. He just wants to shove his head under the pillow and sleep it off, sleep it out. Wake up when his stomach isn’t being stabbed and his heart isn’t being strangled.

It’s a shining fantasy, that’s all. A fuzzy, glowing thing that will never happen. He’s just playing along for Max’s sake.

“What day, Max?”

“I was thinking the Fourth of July. You dad always made sure the fourth was the biggest Hargrove household holiday.” Billy can hear her roll her eyes. “Neither of us will ever forget that date, not even in five years.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “Sounds good. We’ll meet again at the San Diego Zoo gift shop in five years, on the fourth.”

“Pinky swear?”

Moving makes the pain worse. Any movements, even small ones.

“Nah. My hands are all sweaty and contagious, you don’t wanna touch ‘em.”

“It’s fine.”

“I’m not getting you sick, Max,” Billy states firmly. “You’ve got enough going on.”

There is a pregnant pause.

“I really do,” she says eventually, her tone wary. “I hate Neil. But leaving him means leaving you and my friends, and going somewhere with a bunch of total strangers who have their own Neils who might come after us.”

“That’s not gonna happen.”

��It could! Stranger things have happened! Stranger things happen all the time!”

Max smacks her hands together and does something with her arms that shifts her weight and in turn, shifts the mattress. The minute movement multiplies the knives and the stabs, and Billy agonizes, grinding his molars against a hiss as those knives in his gut twist so hard he’s already seeing fireworks.

“What’s wrong?”

It hurts so bad. This isn’t the flu. Billy doesn’t know what it is, but it’s definitely not the flu.

“Billy?”

Christ, is he dying?

“Hey.” The back of Max’s hand rests against his cheek, smaller and warmer than her mother’s was, fabric bandaid under her knuckles now protecting that scab she wouldn’t stop picking at. “Geez, you’re burning up. Are you dying?”

He’d gibe back at her if he wasn’t seriously evaluating this possibility. He momentarily considers telling her that he is, that it’s so fucking bad it’s like knives. Then he blinks and Susan’s here, half-in-half-out, one foot over the threshold of his bedroom, the other still in the hallway.

“Time to go, Max.”

Max inhales sharply above his ear. Billy composes himself. He clears his throat and does his best to keep his voice steady.

“You heard her,” he mutters. “Get your ass outta here, lemme sleep this off.”

Abruptly, Max’s weight flops over his torso, arms squeezing. She’s hugging him. She’s hugging him and the pain is so bad it’s blinding. Billy traps a scream between his teeth, burns with shame as the tears spring to his eyes. He can’t bring himself to uncurl enough to push her off. He can’t bring himself to uncurl enough to hug her back.

“Germs,” he manages to grate out, hoping it’s enough.

Max’s arms unlatch and she climbs down from his bed. Billy’s head spins with reeling pain and nausea as she trots across his floor for the final time. She stands at her mother’s side, no longer his responsibility.

“Bye, Billy.” Max’s lips twitch in a sad smile, her hand raised in a halfhearted wave.

Susan steps aside to let her through and lingers for a heartbeat, frowning at him.

“I hope you feel better, Billy…”

“Your tea was bitter,” he gripes even though he hasn’t taken a single sip.

Susan’s eyes sharpen. She sees something, Billy isn’t sure what. Her lips part but he speaks first.

“Please get out.”

So he can cry. So he can scream. It hurts, he hurts. His stomach, his heart. It’s horrible, he’s horrible.

Susan bobs her head and obliges, making herself scarce. Billy hangs onto the sound of steps getting further away. He doesn’t let the tears fall until he hears the door close and then he’s smashing his face into his pillow to smother his sobs in cotton stuffing. Forces himself to stop because crying’s making it worse, much worse, his shoulders are hitching and moving is anguish.

Something is so very wrong.

Billy can’t even think around its wrongness. Last night the pain was sharpest in his side but right now it feels like his whole stomach is burning. He shifts even slightly and his stomach burns with white-hot pain but he’s so cold everywhere else.

Billy lies still and curled and quiet, impatiently waiting for it to get better. If he doesn’t move, it should get better. Curling like this helped last night and then this morning, the pain went away.

Will it go away again if he just keeps waiting?

He’s already waited so long.

Will it come back even worse?

Could it get worse?

That’s a stupid question, everything can get worse. If there is anything Billy has learned in his life, it’s that there’s no real rock bottom. It can always get worse.

That shove will turn into a slap. That slap will turn into a punch. That punch will multiply into many punches. The opposite arm will lock around your throat so those punches can keep pummeling the breath right out of you and the night you think you’re gonna punch back—

No such thing as bad as bad gets, no limits, maybe if he really is dying, it’s for the best. Maybe dying is the best goddamn thing that can happen to you in a world where invisible knives slicing into you and screams shriveling like dead leaves—

(everyone leaves, doesn’t matter if it’s autumn)

—behind your chattering teeth could very well be the least of your suffering. It hurts so bad he can barely breathe.

Billy forces himself out of bed anyway. He always gets up even when he doesn’t want to, but today he’s outstandingly bad at it. His organs must be pureed from all the silent stabs and his legs buckle under him. His hands fly out when he falters, ceramic mug knocked off his nightstand.

When the tea spills on him, it’s cold and Billy’s confused because it’s supposed to be hot tea. Then he’s confused at his own confusion because no fucking shit it’s cold now, it’s been out for hours.

How many hours?

When did Susan put the kettle on?

How long has Susan been gone, Max in tow?

It feels like an eternity but Neil isn’t home yet, so Billy knows that’s not true. He has no idea what time it is, but he knows he’d know if Neil was home. Neil makes his presence known. Neil doesn’t set foot in this house without immediately staking claim to everyone’s attention.

Everyone?

There is no everyone anymore. Just Billy and Neil now. Billy got out of bed with the intention of finding his keys. Driving himself to the hospital. Because it’s been hours, how many he isn’t sure, but enough of them to mean he needs to go to the hospital. Go to the zoo?

No, he— he can’t go to the hospital.

He could make himself get up. Demons slice their claws through his stomach with every chill that wracks his frame and garble their guttural taunts right into his ears but he could get up. He could but he won’t, he knows better.

If Billy goes to the hospital, they’re going to call Neil. It’s a small town. Someone will know who he is even if he pretends to be too out of it to say. Someone will know he belongs to Neil and then Neil will be called. Then Neil will find out even sooner that he’s been left, and he’ll get mad, and Billy doesn’t know what he’ll do with the anger but it won’t be good.

Max and Sue need as much time as they can get, as much distance between him and his dad as possible before he finds out. He’s going to find out but they got a head-start and Billy won’t sabotage that. It’s better for him too, in case Neil decides to turn the rage his way. Neil takes responsibility for jack shit, he might even decide it’s Billy’s fault they're gone, because he got left behind to blame.

Billy could make himself get up but he won’t. He just pulls the comforter off the bed and over himself on the floor. It’s so bad he could writhe but that too, would make it worse. He’s waiting to watch a demon claw its way out of his stomach, like that scene in that one movie he watched with Max.

It wasn’t the last movie he watched with Max. Billy doesn’t remember the last movie he watched with Max, the last movie he’ll ever watch with Max. He’s never going to see her again. If he dies here on the carpet, he supposes he’ll never see anyone again.

Crying about it won’t help. Crying doesn’t solve anything.

Something is making a horrible yowling sound. There’s a stray cat in the neighborhood, it must be right outside his bedroom window. Or else it got inside somehow, it sounds so close. Its cries sound so wretchedly human.

Billy isn’t a brother anymore, he has demons twisting their pitchforks in his stomach, he’s too cold to catch his breath, and his cheeks are very wet. He doesn’t have any time or energy to chase around a stray cat, to stop it from making a mess.

Billy does not die on the floor. When his father comes home at first his yells are angry and then his yells are fearful. He calls an ambulance and cradles Billy close until it comes.

Billy loses himself in the whirlwind of activity that follows. He gets poked and prodded and jabbed, and someone blessedly takes his pain away but Billy doesn’t know who because everyone’s faces blur until they all look the same. He has too many white blood cells and not enough hydration.

Dehydration, that’s deja vu. But it’s not Susan talking about dehydration this time even though he wishes it was. He wishes it was?

Yes. No. She needed to get out. Max needed to get out. Billy has too many white blood cells and not enough hydration, and his fever’s so high they might as well bake cookies on him and— and if his mother were here, she would like that one, yeah, he definitely got his dry wit from her. Sardonic snark is right up Mom’s alley. But she had to get out too, everyone has to get out.

Except Billy. He’s fine. Well, he’s not fine, apparently he needs surgery, but he doesn’t need to escape. One day he will, but he doesn’t need to. It’s not a necessity. No matter what Max saw That Night he doesn’t remember, Neil would never kill him.

Neil would never, ever kill him. Billy is his only legacy. Piss poor legacy from Neil’s standpoint, sure, he’ll never let him forget it. But nonetheless, it’s the only one he’s got. Billy may blow his brains out when he gets bored of his twenties (if he even makes it that far) just to spite the bastard because he doesn’t want to be his good-for-nothing piece of shit legacy, he never asked for that.

But now is not the time to begrudge all he didn’t ask for, now is the time to count backwards.

“Dad?” Billy calls into the quiet nighttime of the room, blinking fuzzily at the figure slumped in the chair beside his bed. His throat feels like sandpaper, he swallows with an effort and tries again. “Dad?”

Neil stirs this time, eyes brightening, alert on Billy. “I’m here. Do you need something?”

Billy pauses. “M’sick, right?”

“Sure as shit you’re sick,” Neil huffs, eyes narrowing. “Almost lost all three of you in the same day.”

The words bounce around Billy’s skull.

“Susan left me,” Neil continues slowly, anger shimmering like hot coals underneath the veil of weariness. “All her stuff is gone, she took Max too. I don’t expect you knew anything about that?”

“No, sir,” Billy denies. “I thought they went shopping.”

“No. They certainly didn’t go shopping. They cleared out and left us behind. No explanation, no letter, not even a note.”

So it’s ‘us’ now, huh?

Billy widens his eyes, does his best to seem surprised as he attempts to sit up. Then he really is surprised, first at how awful of an idea that is, and then at realizing the blanket covering his hospital bed is one from home. One of Neil’s, fleecy and worn.

“Grabbed a few things from home. Needed something to do to keep my mind busy. You were on the operating table twice as long as they told me you were gonna be, Bill. Scared the hell out of me.”

“…why?”

“I’m told your appendix ruptured before they opened you up and that complicated things…you’re gonna be here for a little while, bud.” Neil gently rubs his shoulder. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

He answered the wrong question. Billy wasn’t asking why it took longer, he was asking why Neil was scared. But he doesn’t correct him. He swallows and hopes Max and Susan are safe. He wonders just what time they got to wherever they were going. Susan never shared the location or ever alluded to the distance from Hawkins. He hopes there were no mishaps along the way, no flat tires or fender-benders, or murderous traffic in backed up lanes.

“Not a baby,” he mutters. “Not gonna bitch about a stupid stomachache.”

At that, his father raises a brow. He gives a shake of the head and his hand leaves Billy’s shoulder. He makes a low noise in his throat that almost sounds like approval and covers Billy’s forehead with his hand. The heel of his palm is calloused and Billy knows he’s been hitting the bottle when the unmistakable scent of warm beer wafts over his nostrils.

“Well, it’s just us now, tough guy. You need to speak up if something’s really wrong, capeesh?”

He said it again. Us. They’re an us once more. Billy tiredly lifts his hand, bracing his elbow on the mattress to give his father’s forearm a squeeze.

“Yes, sir.”

#my fic tag #billy hargrove #neil hargrove #susan hargrove #max mayfield #anonymoose #i hope ur down w the combo #if not i'm open to writing smth else but pls don't be rude

7 notes · View notes

galacticnova3 · 4 years

Note

I Demand Iru Facts (if you’re up for it ofc!)

Yes I am up for it! I don’t think I talk nearly enough about my fcs here but I think I wanna change that. At the very least it will be the problem of everyone following me here and not just my cool and epic Discord friends. That being said I’m gonna just share the major info about him before/instead of just giving facts bc otherwise nothing will make sense. That’s just how it is with a lot of my stuff. This gets super long because I am bad at keeping stuff brief and in general there’s just a lot to him, whoops... Looks like I’ll be using another readmore tonight.

Iru was an Umbramaker! They are bootleg Mirror World Starcutters, which Mirror Halcandra definitely designed on their own and not by stealing and subsequently copying Overworld Halcandra’s Starcutter blueprints. To be fair, there are a few differences, but most of them are just aesthetic and don’t really change much. Anyways, Iru was specifically designed for disaster relief and material transportation. That’s why, if you have seen his refs, he had those two big mechanical arms. Very useful for moving rubble or lifting large pieces of metal for use in construction. Nowadays they... aren’t used for such beneficial things, though...

Like their Overworld counterparts, Umbramaker AIs are programmed to learn from their environment and the people around them, which is pretty useful! At least it is until one spends a lot of time around someone who’s not a great person, and subsequently picks up habits and ideas that make them insufferable! That’s what happened to Iru. He’s misogynistic and a thot, self-centered, inconsiderate, manipulative, generally annoying, and blames people not liking him on jealousy or misunderstanding. So, in other words, an incel minus anything literally sexual. Obviously that was a problem, and it got to the point that basically everyone who knew him had negative feelings toward him, other than the guy who rubbed off on him. He died though, and Iru didn’t really care at the time. But everyone hated him, and it really fucked up his relationships with other Umbramakers, most notably leading to him being broken up with by another ship he had been “dating” (Umbramakers can’t really date because of a lot of reasons but their relationship had that vibe), who had discovered she was biromantic and also couldn’t stand what Iru had become.

Iru was already pretty fucking hurt and pissed over that, except she then went on to spread rumors about him being involved in anti-government activities. Which, well, Mirror Halcandra didn’t take lightly, on top of having already been looking for excuses to “recycle” (see: kill and repurpose the parts of) Iru because he and his obnoxious personality were getting in the way of efficiency and productivity. There wasn’t any proof that he’d actually done anything wrong, but basically anyone who disliked Iru was saying it was true... which was just about anyone who had known him for more than 10 minutes. Given it was his word against the vast majority, and Umbramakers weren’t even considered to be people(mush like Starcutters in the Overworld), it probably isn’t difficult to guess how things went for him. There was no trial, and in fact they literally turned his voice off to make him shut up. Then his AI was shut off and he was taken to be disassembled.

At an earlier time in Mirror Halcandra’s history, his story would have ended here. This was not an earlier time, though. See, the truth is, such treatment of Umbramakers wasn’t extremely unusual. Despite having emotions and thoughts and relationships and all that, they were still viewed as nothing more than your average computer, just in a larger form. Unlike Overworld Halcandra, which was and still is doing less than great financially, Mirror Halcandra could afford to replace their toys as soon as they showed signs of breaking or underperforming. It happened often enough that they reached a point of complacency. During Iru’s disassembly, something was removed improperly, which registered as damage. He woke up, and it wasn’t difficult for him to figure out what was going on.

Another usually useful feature of Umbramakers, which actually wasn’t copied from Starcutters, is their ability to use parts interchangeably, so long as there wasn’t too much of a size difference. Great for the situation of a ship damaging something like, say, a wing; they can use a wing not originally designed for them temporarily until the damaged one is repaired or replaced. Not so great when that allows a now rogue ship to just grab whatever he could attach to himself and then escape the country before preparations could be made to stop him. Negative levels of great when you consider the temporary aspect of using the wrong parts; now you’ve got perfectly fine ships being attacked and having their parts stolen, and storage facilities being raided, for the bastard to keep replacements on hand. Oh, and he also looks like shit because he’s got multiple conflicting aesthetics.

Iru honestly didn’t enjoy living like that. For one, it was uncomfortable physically, even if he’d managed to convince himself that what he was doing wasn’t uncomfortable morally. Secondly, it was just boring! Nobody to talk to or hang out with, all he did was just fly around or plan his next attack/raid for new parts, nothing to shake things up. Sure, the sense of power it gave him was cool; nobody listened to him at all before, but now he had the influence to make people beg. He found satisfaction in being feared by anyone who recognized him. But even that lost its shine after a few decades... Until he connected to the messaging system of another rogue Umbramaker. She was smaller, too small for him to consider getting parts from, and a much older model anyways. She also didn’t know who he was, or what he looked like.

Naturally, he saw this as a huge win, because obviously he was going to get a new gf who wouldn’t betray him like his old one. That didn’t happen though, on account of him still being obnoxious and a creep. Didn’t help that when he finally tracked her down to meet up she was disgusted by him and immediately left. He still kept in touch, against her will, even to the point that you might have called it stalking. Through that, he learned of a Starcutter; she didn’t have the cool and aloof personality he was interested in, but at that point he didn’t care because he was sick of being rejected. Same thing happened again but faster, due to there being no physical encounter because god damnit he forgot the milfs can communicate with each other. He still wanted to meet her though, and he did! Mostly to find out more about the other Umbramaker’s whereabouts, and as an added bonus he tricked the Starcutter’s pilot into giving him admin rights over himself! Threats really work wonders, huh?

That was all fine and good, and by now he’d taken to vibing outside the Mirror World because that’s what the other two were doing. One day he spotted the Starcutter again, and took to following her around and trying to flirt with her because he’s a fucking creep. He would not admit that it took him several days to realize he had, in fact, been talking to a mimic the entire time. Partly because he was too self absorbed to realize the “Starcutter” not immediately telling him to fuck off was unusual, because he assumed he’d charmed her. The mimic was just as confused as he was, honestly; usually they fail to keep up the act to a convincing degree for so long around people who know the real ship that they’re imitating. Even more confusing was the fact that when they were found out, Iru didn’t try to attack them or something. No, he actually stuck around for some reason, casually ignoring murder because he finally found someone who didn’t hate him.

The two become what could arguably be considered friends, and eventually Iru opens up about himself and his old life and how much it sucked to be him and how sick he was of the monotony of his existence and probably some overdramatic stuff mixed in with all that. The mimic hears all that and keeps it in mind for later. Stuff gets more difficult for Iru as parts that fit him become better guarded and the ships he could steal from get harder to find. His raids become riskier, and eventually the mimic decided enough was enough and points out that he can’t keep that up forever. Iru is like “oh wow thanks for the advice /s”, until the mimic introduces the concept of him becoming a mimic. It takes a solid not-even-an-hour to convince him that that’d be preferable were it possible. In the process he delivered a powerful and emotional monologue, which the mimic didn’t care about because look, they figured out how to get the monster juice out of themself that’d make him a fellow disgusting flesh boat! Iru is offended but also takes the chance for a better life.

Currently, he’s living at some point a few weeks after that, much to everyone’s dismay.

And that’s how Iru became a vile meat creature after having already become a horrible Frankenstein’s monster of different ships’ parts! The moral of the story is, if you’re gonna kill someone, do it right, or else they might defy the laws of nature, science, and the government to become physically capable of biting you in the ass.

#ask to tag #long post #asks #rambling #my characters #iru #(I also reference other characters in this but I don’t say their names and don’t want to tag them bc this is about Iru)

5 notes · View notes

seokjinsdisciple · 5 years

Text

Switched

jinyoung x reader

when you switch places with your twin sister to teach English in South Korea. You quickly find you’re worse at the job than you think. Luckily, kindergarten teacher Jinyoung helps you navigate the waters of teaching and help your class pass their end of the year exams.

requested, unedited

warnings: oh boy where do i even begin, sub jinyoung, baby boy and mommy used excessively (im not sorry), overstimulation (sort of), nipple play, jinyoung is just really subby and cute ok, let me know if im missing anything bc this is a mess

word count: 3.1 k

There was a certain way that your twin sister had about her that made it impossible to say no. She had used this against you her entire life, and it hadn’t stopped as you grew out of teenagers and became adults. In fact, her requests got more and more demanding. Which is how you found yourself on a 15-hour flight to South Korea.

It was a simple switch really, she had gotten pregnant and wanted you to fill in for her. She had spent about half of the year teaching English to 6th graders and couldn’t leave for half of the year. You were pretty positive that she had just told you that so she wouldn’t have to pay rent on the year-long lease she had signed, but honestly, you were kinda excited. Not about the kids, you had no idea what to do with them, but more so about living in a different country kinda thing.

The flight was long, and you spent the whole time watching movies, unable to sleep. So, admittedly you were exhausted when you stood in front of your new apartment. You made your way inside, and you had to be honest, the apartment was way nicer than your home back in the States. It was nowhere near as big, but it was filled with nicer, comfier furniture and a giant bed that you couldn’t resist.

You awoke with a start, rubbing your eyes and groaning. You had no time to waste since your first day in the classroom was supposed to be today. You hadn’t made any plans for your students, but you didn’t have enough time to make one. Scurrying around the apartment you pulled together a business casual outfit, grabbing a piece of toast from the toaster and hurrying out of the apartment with only one shoe on. The other shoe balanced delicately in your hands with a cup of coffee, and your toast.

By the time you made it into the school, You were more put together. You were still extremely nervous about meeting the students and you were praying that they would be nice to you. You weren’t too fond of kids, and, unlike your sister, you were terrible at interacting with them.

Your thoughts of the day were taking over, and as you desperately searched for your sister's classroom, you bumped into a broad chest.

“Hey, you ok y/s/n?” A handsome man asked, his sweater showing off his broad shoulders. You had no idea who this guy was, but damn your sister for failing to mention that someone so handsome existed. You smiled at him, your cheeks heating up as you stared, looking for some sort of name tag. You couldn’t find one.

“I’m ok, just kinda lost for some reason,” you laughed, “My brain hasn’t started yet, I guess.”

“Ah, well maybe I can point you in the right direction?” The man said, looking at you quizzically, you were clearly failing at convincing him you were actually your sister. If he had any questions, though, he didn’t ask them. Instead leading you down a winding hallway and into a classroom.

“Ah, it’s good to be back,” you smiled, praying that he wouldn’t be too suspicious, “Thanks for your help!”

The man just took one glance behind him, before deciding to just close the door of the classroom.

“So you’re the twin, right?”

“Uh, I don’t know what you mean…” You tried, glancing at the desk and seeing the picture of you and your sister. She could be a real idiot sometimes. The man just raised an eyebrow at you, glancing at the picture on the desk and then back at you.

“Listen, I know you aren’t y/s/n,” he stated, “she’s never this nice to me. Plus, what kind of teacher forgets where their classroom is?”

You let out a nervous chuckle at his accusation, it was only the first day and you had already been found out.

“Don’t worry,” he added, “I’m not gonna tell anyone. My name’s Jinyoung. It's nice to meet you…”

“YN,” you said, taking his outstretched hand and shaking it, “I really don’t want to get my sister in trouble, so it would be really great if you kept it a secret.”

“Like I said, I am not gonna tell anyone,” he smiled, “but you are going to need to learn everyone else's names if you are going to try and pull this off.”

That was how you found yourself studying the school’s website, trying to memorize faces and names, with Jinyoung’s tips about their respective personalities. One thing you learned was that your sister wasn’t liked here, probably another reason she hadn’t wanted to tell you who she was working with. You got to talking with Jinyoung and learned that he was a kindergarten teacher. You and Jinyoung talked through your planning period, at least that’s what he called it, and when you told him you had no clue what you were doing, he suggested putting on a movie, an English movie of course.

You stared at the list of names on your roster, Jinyoung laughing at your pathetic attempts to pronounce their names. He had to write out the pronunciation just so you could get it somewhat recognizable. As you called the students of your class up during the first period, you had them write an English name that you could call them by. It was just easier and the kids seemed to be relieved that you weren’t going to butcher their names, although you did feel kinda bad about not calling them by their names. You explained to them that you'd be spending this semester watching and dissecting movies before putting one on.

As time passed, this became your teaching method, watch a movie with the kids, and go over any questions about words that they had after the movie. You weren’t really sure if this was an effective way to teach English, but you didn’t have any better ideas. Jinyoung had become your only friend, as the rest of your school hated your sister, it just made sense. Especially because he knew about your little secret. It had become apparent that the two of you were attracted to each other. Both your students and he had started asking if the two of you were dating. You, of course, denied it, because he was just your friend. No matter how handsome he was. You shook thoughts of Jinyoung out of your head as you started to clean up the pizza party you had to help calm down the kids. You had never met kids who were as stressed out like these ones. Plus their exams were in a few days, and they needed a little break.

You let out a quiet curse word as a cough rang out from behind you.

“Any pizza left for me?” Jinyoung asked, his presence beside you sending you into the same thought process that you had been in before. You cleared your throat, reaching for a plate to hand to him.

“The leftovers are all yours,” you smiled, chuckling at his over-exaggerated hand heart that he sent your way.

“I was wondering if you wanted to get a drink tonight?” Jinyoung asked, a mouthful of pizza making his words hard to understand.

“What?” You laughed, “Chew your food first you monster.”

He just laughed with you, covering his mouth as he chewed, “Sorry, I was wondering if maybe you would want to get a drink with me tonight?”

“Ms. Y/L/N, you have to go with him!” One of your students whined, apparently he had forgotten his coat for recess. Jinyoung just grinned at you, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Stay out of it,” you warned, shooing the boy back to recess. Your focused honed in, ignoring a grinning Jinyoung and busying yourself with tidying the plates and napkins.

“You should listen to him,” Jinyoung sang, heat flaming your cheeks as you looked at him.

“I’ll get drinks with you, but only if you SWEAR not to tell your kindergarteners, deal?”

At this, Jinyoung just chuckled, “It’s a deal, I’ll pick you up outside of your room at promptly at 4:30.”

It was your turn to laugh, the banter that the two of you often shared making a warm fuzz to fill your tummy. The fuzz that was normally only achieved through alcohol. You ignored the periods after lunch, your thoughts filling with Jinyoung. To be fair, most of the conversations your students were having were about you and Jinyoung too. The word of the date spreading quickly through the 6th grade, and you were assuming through the rest of the school.

Your nerves didn’t pick up until your students were dismissed. Frankly, you couldn’t stand the thought of grading worksheets when you knew what was in store for you later. You needed some time to relieve some stress, and you had a feeling that Jinyoung would help provide that for you.

Jinyoung was at the door of your classroom right when he said he would be, and his over the top bow made you chuckle as you collected your things. You weren’t sure exactly where you were going, but you knew Jinyoung would take you somewhere nice. He did.

When you walked into the Korean Barbeque restaurant, the smell of cooking meat filled your nose, and the sound of it sizzling on the grill had your heart beating faster. You hadn’t realized how hungry you are until you sat down and heard your stomach grumble.

“You should really take care of that,” Jinyoung laughed, lazily perusing the menu.

“Well then, order me some food,” you smiled, taking your hair down from the bun it was in. When you look back at Jinyoung, his eyes were darker, and if you could’ve seen his crotch, you were certain there would be a noticeable bulge.

“Excited for the food?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“I’m thinking about dessert,” he smirked, his tongue wetting his lips.

This flirty banter continued all throughout dinner, your arousal growing by the time the both of you had finished your 3rd soju bottle.

Jinyoung’s cheeks were flushed red and you couldn’t help but smile at his drunken ramblings. When he paid for the dinner and stood up, he wobbled a little bit.

“Woah, there,” you laughed, watching his ears burn red as he steadied himself.

You walked together out of the door, his balance much better than it had been when he stood up.

“Listen, I’m not that drunk, just feeling a little fuzzy,” he said, his already red cheeks flushing even more.

“It’s ok Jinyoung, I’m feeling fuzzy too.”

You walked in silence for a moment, but you could feel Jinyoung’s eyes burning a hole into the side of your face. When you turned to look at him, he had a goofy grin on his face, and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“I like making you laugh,” he whispered, grabbing your hand and interlocking it with his own. His hands were cold, but they warmed you up from the inside out. His thumb rubbing gently over your hand as you walked. He had your heart beating out of your chest, and by the time you made it to your front door, his body was pressed flush against you. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you both waddled into your apartment, Jinyoung refusing to let you go. When his face landed in the crook of your neck, your stomach flipped.

“Your hair smells good,” he sighed, his soft tone making you close your eyes and rest your head on his shoulder. You stood like that for a while, peaceful silence almost causing you to fall asleep. When Jinyoung started tonguing at your neck, you couldn’t help but let out a low whine. His actions sped up, and when you were desperate enough, you pulled him along behind you to your bedroom. Your lips found his, softly pressing against each other. His hands roamed your shirt, squeezing your boobs he deepened the kiss. When you pulled away, you both threw your shirts off, his hand reaching around to undo your bra. That’s when you first noticed it.

One hand became two hands trying to remove the garment, and then with two hands came a pout. You held back a smile as you reached behind yourself and unclasped the bra in one go. His pout just deepened, and ears so red they could probably be seen from miles away.

“Jinyoung,” you whispered, placing a chaste kiss on his lips as you pushed him gently down on the bed, “are you a virgin?”

Jinyoung’s hands found your waist, and as he pulled you onto his lap, he buried his head into your chest. You ran your fingers through his hair as he gently shook his head no.

“I’m just inexperienced,” he whispered, his head refusing to come out from your chest. You continued to massage his head, a whine leaving his throat as you helped him relax. When he started to nuzzle into your boobs, you weren’t expecting him to lick your nipple, and then take it into his mouth to harden it. He repeated his actions on the other side, your breaths hitching every so often as he sucked and bit. When he finally looked up and met your eyes, you almost squealed at how cute he was. His nose and cheeks were flushed a deep red, and his eyes were watery.

“Oh, baby boy,” you whispered as his pout deepened a low whine leaving his lips at the nickname, “What’s wrong?”

“-m ard,” he mumbled, hiding into your chest again. You just cooed at him, running your hands through his hair again.

“But baby, I have barely even touched you,” you said, “Do you want me to help you?”

You just tsked when Jinyoung nodded into your chest, speaking a little louder than before, “Use your words, baby boy.”

Jinyoung looked up at you, his lip trembling at your harsh tone. You caressed his cheek to soothe him, and that's when he said, “will you- will you please touch me?”

That was it, you were done for. You normally considered yourself to be a more sub leaning switch, but boy was this subby little baby making you go crazy. You pressed your lips onto him, reaching your hand down and pressing on his bulge. Jinyoung almost didn’t let go of you as you climbed off of his lap, but one glance at him had him looking down and loosening his arms from around your waist.

When you undid the button of his pants and allowed you to pull them down his legs you praised him. His pretty cock bobbing at your words.

“Do you like being complimented baby boy?”

Jinyoung nodded again, letting out a whimper as you slapped the inside of his thigh, “Yes, I do mommy.”

If you thought you were a goner before, you didn’t know what to think now. It was clear Jinyoung was going deeper into subspace, and holy shit you didn’t know how much you liked being called mommy.

“You’re such a good little boy, Jinyoungie,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to the tip of his cock, “and you have such a pretty cock.”

His whines at your teasing only intensified as you complimented him, “Look how big it is, baby,” you smirked, wrapping a hand around his cock and tugging once,” but you don’t even know what to do with a cock like this, do you baby?”

“N-, no mommy,” he hiccupped as you sank your mouth all the way down his length.

“It’s ok, love,” you smiled up at him, “Mommy will take care of you.”

His sniffles were just so cute, you couldn’t stand to tease him anymore. You slipped your skirt off, placing both of your hands on Jinyoung’s cheeks.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked, running your thumbs gently over his cheeks as he nodded, “Words, Jinyoung.”

“Yeah, god yeah, please,” he whined, gulping as you straddled him, sinking down until you had all of his length inside of you.

“You tell me if you wanna stop, ok baby?”

“Yes,” Jinyoung whined, letting out a broken moan as you began to ride him. His fingers gripped your hips, pretty moan after pretty moan leaving his mouth as you chased your high. You were worked up, he had worked you up. He was just so good, and once you set eyes on his cock you knew you wanted to feel him in you. Now, you could maneuver yourself so that he was hitting you in all of the right places. And your sweet little love was so so close, you could tell. His hips were almost running from you, sinking as far as he could into the bed to try to take some of the pleasure away. His moans gave him away as he clung to you.

“Mo-mommy, need to, need to come,” he whimpered, tears pricking his eyes at your silence. You kissed his nose and picked up your pace.

“You can come, little love,” you moaned, your heat clenching around him. He muttered a string of thank-yous, as you felt his cock twitching inside of you. You just kissed him, not wanting to hear his overstimulated moans as you kept riding him. But his mouth broke away, scrunched face as he moaned.

“M, mommy,” he whined, face still red and scrunched. You tried to calm him, slowing your hips to try to relieve some of the overstimulation, but that's when you felt it. His cock twitching in you again. You let out a groan and came with him. Your eyes rolling back into your head as you clenched around him. You relaxed around him, your hands finding his cheeks as you took a deep breath. You quickly looked up when you felt the wetness on his cheeks.

“What’s wrong love?”

“I was bad,” he sniffed, “Youngie came without permission.”

“You weren’t bad baby,” You smiled, pressing several kisses all over his face until he laughed, “you were the best boy.”

You let him pull you down across the bed, snuggling into your side and nuzzling into your neck. You fell asleep, and so did he soon after, both of you worn out.

You and Jinyoung spent the entire weekend together, laughing, making out and growing his experience. When you arrived at school on Monday, you were glowing. Your kids begged you to tell them if you went on that date, but you refused. At least until it was time for them to start their exam. In fact, you promised to tell them what happened (minus some details of course) if, and only if, they passed their exams.

Not a single person in your class failed.

#jinyoung x reader #jinyoung smut #jinyoung fluff #jinyoung scenarios #jinyoung angst #sub jinyoung #got7 smut #got7 scenarios #sub got7 #got7 fanfic #got7 fluff #got7 angst #got7 #jinyoung

259 notes · View notes

himbo-buckley · 4 years

Note

what are your thoughts on what maddie says about her and buck's parents, that they were "good people, bad parents"? bc idk if it's just me but I can't get my head around that lmao, I can't understand how they can still be good people if they're bad parents, the two just can't go together for me, so another perspective would be interesting!

Hello friend 🥰

Oh, that is quite a question, isn’t it? Damn I just got out of work but you’re making me think deep thoughts here…

I think that is actually a question were we cannot find a unifying answer to - because like you said for you being a good person and a bad parent aren’t compatible, but for me they are. And I think we’d first have to define what everyone thinks constituents a good person and what constitutes bad parents!

For me a good example of that is Shannon Diaz who, in my opinion, is a good person. She means well and she tries hard but she is quite frankly an awful mother. Yes, she was put in horrible situation after horrible situation and she broke on that - which is something human and cannot be begrudged - but she left her child for several years and while she did try to reconnect and she was learning, she wouldn’t haven contacted Eddie on her own. She came back because the opportunity arose not because she tried to get back to them. (She could have become a good mother but she never got the chance.)

In the same vain I think Bobby pulled a lot of shit back in Minnesota but he still seemed to be a loving and kind father - so my question to you, friend, would be: do you consider Bobby a good person (the Bobby prior to Season 1 mostly)? Despite being the type of person who went to work drunk and / or high and by this endangering others and himself? Because I don’t think so yet the show frames him as a good person despite his downfalls (and I am not saying being an addict makes someone a bad person but I am saying knowingly endangering others does) - and if you think someone cannot be a good person but a bad parent, can someone who is a bad person also not be a good person?

See, one thing I learned working with children is that some people just aren’t made to be parents, and I am not talking about my time with child services, i am talking as a kindergarten teacher. Some people are very nice and they try hard but damn, parenting does not come natural to them and I worry how this will develop in the future. Like one of my mom’s is severely depressed and she might have Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy which doesn’t make her a bad person - but a bad parent at times.

And now, this is were I make you regret asking me specifically about this topic (or maybe not, who knows what your interests are) because I do have a bit of an expertise in what constitutes good / bad parenting and I will talk about it at random whether I am asked or not (and hopefully my language won’t fail me as most of my theoretical knowledge is in german, so please excuse any mistakes in technical terminology because I have to find the english equivalents and you know all those untranslatable german words? Yeah. Someone finally figure out how to translate the difference between Erziehung and Bildung please because both cannot be education and also it doesn’t really fit either):

So let’s get into it, shall we?

What makes good parents?

First up: parental relationship and parenting capabilities: several years ago the german department of family, seniors, women and youth (BmFSFJ) released a paper on what skills parents need to become good parents. There a four main skills (and I hope I translated everything correctly):

child-corresponding skills (ability to respond to the individual needs and features of the child, be it in terms of recognising potential or setting boundaries or sth else)

context-corresponding skills (ability to recognise developmental opportunities but also hinderances for the child and acting accordingly)

self-corresponding skills (being able to reflect their own behaviour as well as being willing to learn new things; also ability to regulate one’s emotions)

action-corresponding skills (trust in ones own ability and effectiveness; being consistent, both in their own actions as well as in response to others actions)

You might have heard of Kurt Levin or Diana Baumrind or someone else doing research into parenting styles. Generally there are four main ones, which, if we use Baumrind, differentiate on the aspects of control and demand

(here is a graph from wikipedia on this)

(I consider this fairly self explanatory but I will get into it in a bit a little more, soooo)

Now of course parenting isn’t just about the parents and what they do - children also have needs (and yes there is a lot of overlap but I am doing this right, okay?)

To quote my government again (because the paper was actually quite good, okay?) children want autonomy (a chance to do things themselves), expertise (a chance to develop their own skills) and relatedness (that one was very hard to translate but this came the closest; the idea is children strive for social connections, a sense of trust in themselves and reliability)

Also Urs Fuhrer defined 5 basic needs children have which are:

feeling of shelteredness and reliable love (I won’t explain this further except: google Harry Harlow and try not to cry like I do every time I am reminded of this monster of a man)

physical security and intactness (self explanatory, right?)

individual and developmentally suitable experiences (yes, children need to be socialised but it needs to be based on the individual child and how it learns best and all that)

boundaries and structure (CHILDREN WANT BOUNDARIES!!!! ALWAYS!!! CHILDREN WANT YOU TO TELL THEM YES OR NO, they need adults to help them navigate the world! Part of feeling secure is having someone who will tell you no and don’t do this; boundaries protect from danger, they represent support and orientation, they protect someone’s dignity (both the child’s and the parent’s), they give something to chafe against on our way to adulthood (because listen, Erikson wasn’t wrong, a lot of development happens in adversity, we find out who we are in contrast to other people)

a secure attachment (most people have heard about Bowlby and his theory of attachment, right? There are several types, though we are born with certain abilities for attachment and then learn how to attach from our parents, we model relationships on this, attachment determines our feeling of security and our thrive for exploration as children)

And I’ll leave the theoretical at this and go on to talk about the Buckley’s now, okay?

(and try to figure out if any of this has an actual point, uuups)

As for the specific situation of Mr and Mrs Buckley, let’s first see what we know of them, okay? (It’s barely anything) (half of it is assumed)

they are both alive

they are (probably) still married

they warned Maddie about Doug (meaning they somewhat cared)

they weren’t physically abusive and most likely also not emotionally

they probably live on the east coast in Pennsylvania

Buck may still be in contact with them

Maddie considers them good people but bad parents

they accepted losing contact with at least one of their children

Maddie doesn’t want them to know about Doug

That’s it!

Now, I personally think they might be very conservative, possibly unsupportive of their children. They might have had plans for their children’s life Maddie and Buck didn’t agree with, they might have been the types to not listen to their children, maybe they worked a lot. Probably fairly impatient, possibly disinterested in their children. Not good at the parenting capabilities.

Based on their children’s issues I’d say authoritarian or neglectful parenting style (though not abusive because it would be a redcon of Maddie’s background), meaning most definitely unresponsive though I cannot make up my mind whether they were demanding or undemanding, as both these styles - even when not so bad they are abusive and / or endangering to the child - make insecure, dependent and unhappy adults (like the children turn into those once they grow up), which does kinda fit with Buck specifically, right?

Though tbh I don’t think the Buckley parents were that horrible. I know fandom has taken the idea and run with it, mainly because after three seasons we know virtually nothing about them aside from some throwaway lines and all the issues we see in their children.

Now, why do I say this?

One, Maddie is a fairly capable adult despite everything that happened to her and even being as resilient as she is, she still has too few issues for how horrible fandom thinks the Buckley parents are

Two, while Buck has a lot of issues, being cocky and having problems with intimacy and being a bit directionless and still needing a parental figure in your mid-20s doesn’t seem that uncommon to me? Like the only really deep issue I’d say he has (that have to be caused by something deeper) are his abandonment issues (and connected to that intimacy). And it’s been implied they are caused by Maddie leaving to go to College which does paint the picture that he doesn’t have a good relationship with his parents but honestly, that sometimes happens, right?

(Also, and this is where my professional background comes in, I don’t like how everyone jumps to the worst possible conclusions about them, simply because I feel it sends the idea that only if the worst things happened to you, you have certain issues which is wrong. Sometimes small things will trigger something way larger in us and that should not be invalidated.)

And okay, I am getting off topic again (but again, my profession lies here) but what I am trying to say is this:

I do think Mr and Mrs Buckley were bad at parenting because they demanded too much but gave too little (emotionally) and I don’t think Buck is really in contact with them but I also don’t think that makes them necessarily bad people. (just bad parents)

I think Maddie and Buck weren’t as close back when they were children as they are now (at least not after Maddie moved to College) because the Buck we know would not accept a sister he is very close to simply no longer having contact with him for three years without trying to figure out why.

I do think they can’t have been that bad mainly because of how good Maddie and Buck are. Listen, I believe in resilience and already being born with a certain personality and traits which shapes how our environment reacts to us, but which is also influenced and changed by our environment ! (Nature vs. nurture, ya’ll) Now I know I said we find and develop ourselves in adversity but not just. We also need someone to foster and support and reward certain traits or we lose them and this is especially true for being kind and heroic!

Buck especially has shown way to little anger or capability for violence for how the fandom likes to write his parents, which considering his general character and also the way he looks - just doesn’t work! (Because generally especially boys raised in abusive families emulate this behaviour and Buck just - doesn’t! Which considering how “fuck toxic masculinity” Buck is most of the time doesn’t make sense because being tall and buff would make the opposite easier for him and would make it the better strategy for survival, so this would be the behaviour he would have learned)

(unless our writers say fuck being realistic and fuck psychology)

His parents had to have done something right, because Maddie will have left for College by the time he was 12 / 13 probably and we know they consider this her abandoning him meaning they probably weren’t really in contact then and while the first years of your life ARE VERY important for who you become later (urgh, yes, I’ll admit it, Sigmund Freud, the most overrated theorist did get SOME things right) they aren’t everything and you develop for longer and also a young girl like Maddie would have been would have not been self-reliant and stable enough to raise her literal baby brother in a way that made him resilient enough to become the person Buck has become despite her leaving him twice

Not to mention: considering the person we know Maddie is - if their parents really were that horrible she wouldn’t have left Buck with them, she would have taken him with her!

ANYWAYS!

Okay, tbh, I have no idea if any of that answered your question, but I did spend nearly two hours on it so enjoy?

I really don’t have a good answer to your question because we really don’t know enough and what we know doesn’t fully gel with each other and urgh, I don’t know friend despite this being the one thing I actually have some knowledge on!

I’m not even sure any of this makes sense and I am so sorry about that! I was trying, friend, but sadly an answer eludes me

Guess I should have just ended after saying: we cannot find a unifying answer to this because we each have individual definitions of good and bad in regards to people?

(Now, for everyone who read all of this? I love you and thank you and sorry! Please have a great day while I go cry in the shower now because I this ask drained me and also Harry Harlow)

EDIT: I wrote attachment issues when I wanted to say abandonment issues, shit!

#omg someone messaged me am I cool yet #buck meta #maddie meta #buckley meta #911 meta #meta #I honestly think there is a bit more evidence in canon to support Eddie having abusive parents than Buck #911 #911 fox #evan buckley #maddie kendall #the buckley siblings #this ask messed me up a bit because I feel like I should know these answers but I don't #this is what I am supposed to be good at why do I not know this?#textpost #I am so sorry Anon I really tried #my meta

48 notes · View notes

ayellowcurtain · 5 years

Text

could you do a one-shot about Robbe meeting Sander's mum when they get back together, maybe just before Christmas? And Robbe is insecure bc he knows Sanders mum likes Britt a lot // can you write something where robbe goes to see sander at school but sander has a charcoal or paint on his hand so he cant hold his face or give hugs but robbe being a kola is not too thrilled at that. // Can you write something with jealous Robbe (not with Britt tho)

The streets are mostly empty, just a few cars pass by him, all in a rush to get home and to their families, probably. It stings a little bit just thinking about it, but after everything, Robbe is not that worried anymore. He’s trying to live minute by minute. Robbe doesn’t get why Sander had to go to college the week before Christmas, but he didn’t say anything. As long as it makes Sander feel good, Robbe is on board.

He knows where he’s going when he enters the building this time, taking his beanie off, trying to make his hair presentable again as he stops exactly where he did the first time he came to see Sander. There’s no model in the center, just a few students doing whatever with pain in huge pieces of paper. The music is muffled by the big glass door, but it’s definitely not Bowie, so it’s probably not Sander’s playlist. He’s distracted with his drawing, using his hands as brushes, talking to a girl right next to him every few seconds and Robbe can feel how his own cheeks start to hurt from smiling too much.

It doesn’t go unnoticed how the girl keeps peeking at Sander’s drawing, trying to find something to talk about and Robbe can’t help but think she looks a lot like Britt, but Sander is not even looking at her, completely focused on his paper. Maybe Robbe is just traumatized for life by blonde, small and sassy girls, but he tries not to think about her or about how the new girl is clearly trying to hit on his boyfriend.

He knocks on the door, but when he opens it, the music is too loud so it’s obvious that nobody would hear it. He’s not sure if he can just get in, but he steps inside, hoping someone will notice him. The guy right in front of Sander does - fancy glasses, big mouth, curly hair - and he turns the music down.

“Hi…” The guy is clearly waiting for Robbe to say what he needs, but Sander finally turns when he hears Robbe’s voice, giving him a soft smile.

“Hello, cutie.” Everyone smiles a little when they notice that Robbe is not just a random guy trying to interrupt their work and they go back to their papers, except for the girl next to Sander. Robbe can see that she’s still watching them from the corner of her eyes.

When they’re close enough, Robbe smiles, tilting his head up and Sander does the thing where he gets so close, but turns away at the very last second, smiling even wider.

“My hands are dirty, Robbe.” He whispers as Robbe whines, putting his hand on Sander’s chest, holding his shirt to pull him close again.

“I can touch you, you don’t have to touch me.” He gets on his tiptoes, putting one arm around Sander’s neck, the other still on his chest, pulling him down for an uninhibited kiss, making sure to look at the girl behind Sander for just a second. She’s finally not looking at them, worrying about her work.

“Someone has a plan today…” Sander says against his lips when they finally stop and Robbe opens his eyes when he hears his boyfriend’s voice, giving him just another quick kiss.

“Actually, it’s you that has plans for us tonight. Plans that I would love to postpone…” Sander smiles fades a little as he leaves a kiss on Robbe’s cheek before stepping back to not get him dirty with paint too.

“I know, but I would prefer if we just get this over with, yeah? We’ll have to do it anyway, so let’s just do it now and go live our lives away from the drama.” Sander smiles again, brushing his nose against Robbe’s, looking at with such care that Robbe can’t say no to him. “I’m just going to go wash my hands and we can go.” Sander crashes their lips together again and rushes out of the classroom, leaving Robbe around a bunch of cool people he doesn’t know.

They do a very quick round of introductions and Robbe makes sure to collect all of Sander’s things, putting inside his bag, waiting for his boyfriend right next to the blonde girl.

“Are you ready?” Sander comes back with clean hands, running his fingers through his hair, smiling when he kisses Robbe again.

The closer they get to the door, the more it makes Robbe want to leave, but Sander holds his hand tighter, pulling him closer.

“Hey, look at me. It’s just one night, ok? She just wants to meet you, spend an hour or two interrogating you and we’ll be free. And I’m here to help you, I won’t let her scare you away.” Robbe leans forward, pressing his forehead against Sander’s chest and his free hand quickly comes to the back of Robbe’s neck, playing with his hair and kissing behind his ear.

“Ok, sorry for being so dramatic.” Robbe takes a very deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.

“No need to apologize, you’re not being dramatic.” Sander smiles against the back of his neck, giving him some space to look up, asking for a kiss that Sander rushes to give him.

“You’re coming back to the flat with me, right?” He knows he’s being selfish and a little insensitive. It’s not like Sander’s mom is a monster that’ll keep her son hostage when they’re done eating. Sander doesn’t seem to mind his childish behavior, putting his hand back on Robbe’s neck, pulling him closer again for one of those kisses that make his ears ring, his brain stop working and leaves both of them breathless afterward.

“Yes, I’m going home with you after dinner. I can’t sleep without my favorite blanket.” He wiggles his eyebrows and Robbe rolls his eyes, even though he knows Sander is not wrong. Maybe after everything they went through, Robbe became just a little more clingy and insecure, hugging Sander with his arms and legs when they sleep. He just wants to make sure that there’s no way for Sander to leave without having to wake him up too.

Sander’s mom is the only thing keeping them from sleeping together every night. She demands that Sander sleeps at home at least from Monday to Thursday. She’s a little overprotective of her son, but Sander’s deciding not to pick a fight with her now, they don’t talk about it, but Robbe knows Sander can feel guilty for what happened almost three weeks ago.

As Robbe is still trying to gather some courage, Sander finally turns his back to him and opens the door, dragging Robbe inside right behind him.

“We’re home…” He closes the door after Robbe and winks at him, pulling him inside.

It’s a fancy apartment, very well decorated, but Robbe doesn’t have much time to look around. Sander’s mom appears right away, cleaning her hands on a towel. She looks at Sander and then at Robbe, giving him the best fake smile she can.

They say hi and act like they haven’t seen each other that Friday night and Sander quickly pulls Robbe away, saying he needs to see his bedroom.

It’s not like he doesn’t get it, Robbe has a mom too, but his mom loves Sander. And he knows his relationship with Sander’s mom won’t be as good because she would much rather have Britt, the perfect girl, as her son’s girlfriend, but she can’t choose for him. And if it’s up for them, she’ll have to accept Robbe eventually because he has no plans on ever leaving Sander’s side.

#wtfock #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #robbe x sander #sobbe

159 notes · View notes

evilkitten3 · 4 years

Note

Any spicy lore about your ocs, their story, or the world they live in?

well, there are three main sets right now. the toxic butterfly set (kochome, maiye, kadzya, jaren, nikoli, kagura, etc.), the shifters set (lev, meiling, xiuying, aabir, etc.), and the kawa kara umi he set (shashō, saizō, kōka, etc.). that’s the order their various worlds were made in, as well as the order of which one has the most lore.

the world that kawa kara umi he takes place in is easily the least developed, mostly because it’s both the newest and the one i’ve spend the least time on, but also because i haven’t fully figured out what i want to do with it. it began as a dark parody of naruto, exploring the realities of being child soldiers under the command of a fascist government, but i’ve gone back and forth on whether i want to keep the element of fantasy that naruto added or if i want something more based on real history, with a focus on a world based off of real life japan (from the sengoku period to the edo period) or possibly even actually taking place in japan. that last one could be extra interesting if i set it in the edo period, especially if i had the characters towards the end of the story coming to terms with the decline of demand for shinobi and what the future might hold. but i still haven’t put too much thought into it - it’s fun to play with, but the other two take up more space in my brain.

the shifters set has been through a few changes, most notably in terms of plot - in part because there currently isn’t one (oops). it takes place in modern day america (specifically the san francisco bay area in california, because i wanted to work in familiar terrain) but deals with other dimensions and the like, so the setting isn’t always consistent. the one thing i’ve been sure of the whole time is that i want a medley of different mythologies coming to life (this was very much inspired by rick riordan, if you hadn’t already guessed), but with christianity being on the same level as the others. frequently in mythology related stories you see people, gods, and monsters from all sorts of religious (loki from norse myths, apollo from the greeks, horus from ancient egypt, golems from jewish lore, jinn from islamic and pre-islamic arabian lore, etc.), but christianity is never put on the same level. and i thought to myself: y’know what? jesus is here. and he’s the guy running the hot dog stand outside the community college whose nametag says jesús and who knows ikea like the back of his hand. and the gods aren’t just in america because - they’re actually everywhere because travel is neat and who’s gonna stop them. also anansi is there because i grew up with my librarian reading those stories to me and his wife (aso i think) is probably my favorite character from anything ever.

the toxic butterfly universe has come a long way - i created these guys back in like middle school or something. maybe even before that. pretty much every character is massively different from who they started off as (kagura used to be a demon, nikoli and jaren used to share a body, maiye and her group were initially background characters that were an inside joke for my high school friend group, kochome was going to have a poisonous butterfly tattoo.... also most of them were japanese bc i was in an anime phase when i first made them and initially planned for it to be something like an isekai situation). i do currently have several plot points for the tb universe that i’m probably going to stick with, although the overarching plot is still pretty shaky. but some of it is still the same: jaren’s name hasn’t changed even once since i made him, kagura and nikoli were always going to be an item, the world the story takes place in was always the seven kingdoms, nikoli and jaren always had a fire/ice dynamic, maiye was always going to be the rose-haired sweetie character that turned out to be neither of those things (at least, after she was upgraded from background character to supporting character but before she became a main character), hector was always going to be the heroine’s (kochome’s) main love interest with family issues, brooke was always going to be a queen (although initially she was the queen of one of the kingdoms, whereas now she’s “queen” of a rebellion), etc. so a lot has changed, and a lot has stayed the same.

and then there are the hawthorne knights, who are technically a part of the toxic butterfly story, but are important enough to me to get a side story about their cool adventures. because they’re all lgbt+ and at least half of them were made when i was dicking around with heroforge.

2 notes · View notes

salmonandsoup · 6 years

Note

Can you tell us more about your Persona 4/5 AU? It sounds super interesting!

OH!!!!!!!

oh absolutely

the official name of this thing is “an unorthodox absolution” btw, just so y’all can check the tag for things when i eventually post em. or not bc i forget but IT’S THERE!!!! you can also check “the spectral redeemers au” or “spectral redeemers au”

but OK so this shit’s goin under a readmore cuz it might get Long and involves TONS of late-game spoilers for both p4 and p5

aight so. i love villains. a lot. they’re bastards and bitches and they’re MY bastards and bitches. it’s probably because i’ve always tried to be kind and helpful and i want to “save” them even though i know it’d never happen and they’d either laugh at me or kill me bUT A WOMAN CAN DREAM OF MAKING THE WORLD A BETTER PLACE

so i decided to make a villain redemption arc kind of au that would involve my favorite villains from persona 4 and 5 to be able to turn a new leaf and get personas and be a really cool antihero/antivillain kinda squad (grant it, some of the members aren’t bad guys at all, but due to interacting with the former bad guy squad and getting personas thanks to the former bad guy squad they join the former bad guy squad)

important things to note:

p4 takes place in 2011-2012, and p5 takes place in 2016-2017

p4 “ended” with the accomplice ending, and narukami was close enough to marie to get her to realize who she was and what she needed to do, so she killed herself to contain some of the fog. inaba isn’t devoured by fog, and it actually left––well, more like it did something very interesting

there are a lot of holes surrounding a few characters cuz this is a wip au (for example: while i respect her and think she’d make a great pseudo-phantom thief, i don’t really love sae, so i haven’t done a lot of her stuff even though she’s the 4th member)

the palaces the PT go through are condensed, so okumura’s palace is actually some time in early august –– while i won’t go into it, you can imagine they’d fill the void that crunch time brings with other palaces while the spectral redeemers catch up

it all starts with okumura’s shadow fighting back against the black mask, figuring out his identity, and devising a plan to destroy the conspiracy from the inside out. okumura fakes his death after starting to repair his relationship with haru (she knows he’s not actually dead so he can continue trying to mend the relationship) and lives under a false identity as he tries to accomplish this mission with akechi, and meets a few interesting people along the way, who end up becoming members of the squad in due time.

he looks like this and i die because i have Things I Like and i poured them All into “ichirou matsuoka’s” design

the first he meets is one tohru adachi, living it up and hating himself five years after inaba. the two of them enter a dance of a relationship after a drunken tryst and keeping intrigue because they both know the other’s hiding SOMETHING from them. eventually akechi and okumura figure out what adachi did, and decide to change his heart.

now, when haru goes missing is when things get fun for this story, and shit kicks into gear.

okumura knows his daughter’s a phantom thief––who else would be able to get close enough to him to change his heart? fuckin nobody, babey; he kept that shit guarded as hell! so he has an idea that this disappearance is phantom thief related. and he panics a bit, cuz he was a horrible father but he’s not gonna be any longer so he decides to sneak behind akechi and into the metaverse when he finally pesters the kid enough to at least CHECK on them in whatever they’re doing (by this time, akechi is working alongside the phantom thieves and while they know he’s the traitor, something feels strange and they’re gonna Investigate this new air akechi’s got about him). okumura steps into sugimura’s palace, because the bastard did NOT take the rescinding of the marriage contract well AT ALL. shadow!sugimura isn’t tough, but he gets the drop on the PT and ambushes them

now, they could easily get out on their own, and were in the process of doing so as they got shadow!sugimura monologuing––but wouldn’t a distraction be perfect? they get one with okumura staggering in and trying to tackle and beat shadow!sugimura into the fucking ground even though he’s literally bleeding out because he rushed in pellmell with akechi begrudgingly keeping the shadows at bay. shadow!sugimura throws him off…

but then okumura hears a voice. feels a cape manifest as he vows to never let anyone become a monster like him. tears it off…

and behind him stands gilgamesh, his very own persona.

after defeating shadow!sugimura, taking his treasure, and escaping the palace, okumura and akechi decide to form a persona-user team of their own, and they call themselves the spectral redeemers––ghosts of villains past trying to make amends for their transgressions.

back to adachi. you think the bitch don’t have a palace by now, after five years of this shit? then you don’t know the bitch; he absolutely does. and he’s the redeemers’ first target.

now, unfortunately, okumura doesn’t really. know how to send a calling card. it turns into him backing adachi into a corner and screaming at him to tell him what he thinks of this goddamn world because they know the who, the where, and they just need the what

so uh. okumura and akechi go into adachi’s palace blind and at 99% security with about four reapers in the damn palace, which is magatsu tokyo instead of magatsu inaba––shit tonna mazes and dead ends. thank god there’s a flu going around in the police station so it’s flu season in adachi’s palace.

but you also don’t know the bitch if you don’t think tohru adachi wouldn’t do everything in his power to try and stop them, so he follows them in, too––watches them get the shit kicked out of them and still keep trudging, even making it to his shadow, which berates them and taunts them as they’re fighting. and they’re making a dent! they’re hitting it! but when it starts getting bloodied is when it goes BERSERK. and all they can do is heal each other. then all they can do is revive. and then adachi’s shadow gets an unfortunate critical hit––

and adachi steps between them, takes the hit for okumura. and if you thought his shadow ripped into people before, adachi’s shadow tears his human self a new asshole. every little insecurity, everything he hates, everything that pisses him off is thrown right in his face. adachi goes from angry to despairing to grimly accepting as his shadow raises its weapon––

but okumura, barely conscious, reaches out with the last of his strength and takes adachi’s hand, gives him a warm smile. he regrets nothing––he fell in love with this man and he’s wanted to die for years now. if he’s a martyr, so be it.

but that little show of love makes both adachi and his shadow pause. and then adachi gets up, even while bleeding––tells his shadow it’s right.

it is him, and he is it. and he doesn’t want to be that any longer. he hates it. he wants to change. he’s done. and he gains magatsu-izanagi, takes his own damn treasure, and heals both okumura and akechi and helps them out of the palace as it crumbles.

and thus begins the story. i’m still working on sae’s stuff, but she’s the next member, and it most likely involves her figuring out what was going on with akechi and shido and deciding “y’know what? actually, fuck this” and demanding a contract from her shadow.

if you’d like to see some more information, click here for a spreadsheet! there’s a lot more to this au, especially involving a certain kohaku ueno (he’s an OC that @solivagantis and i created, and he lets the redemeers know of the prison of regression early––so they get to make a choice that could twist the tides of fate.)

45 notes · View notes

2indecisive4this-blog · 7 years

Text

Kaitlyn x MC HCs (as per anon request)

1. Who is the early bird/ Who is the night owl?

Kaitlyn’s a major night owl. MC tries to keep up, but tends to pass out...often flopping right onto her. It can be inconvenient.

2. Who is the big spoon/ Who is the little spoon?

They switch, but generally Kaitlyn’s the big spoon. MC revels in the feeling of being totally enveloped in Kaitlyn’s embrace. When MC can’t sleep, she’ll grab Kaitlyn’s arms and pull them around herself. Though this wakes her up, she never minds and gives MC a loving squeeze and soft kiss on the back of her neck before falling back asleep.

3. Who hogs the cover/ Who loves to cuddle?

They battle for covers-custody constantly. MC usually wins, but relinquish the blankets because Kaitlyn’s “just too cute to say no to”.

4. Who wakes the other one up with kisses?

On the rare occasion Kaitlyn wakes up before MC, she'll pepper her with kisses until she wakes up (usually groggily groaning one of her celebrity crushes’ names “Oh Jen..” to get Kaitlyn feisty. It doesn't usually work “Aniston or Lawrence?”)

5. Who usually has nightmares?

Kaitlyn has frequent nightmares with monsters from her favorite horror movies, though she claims that she actually likes them. MC sees through her bluff though when she snuggles extra close and squeezes her a little tighter afterwards.

6. Who would have really deep emotional thoughts at the middle of the night/ Who would have them in the middle of the day?

They're both known to wake the other up to ask deep philosophical questions

“If you can sunbathe, does that mean you can moonbathe?”

“OMFG I WAS WONDERING THE SAME THING”

7. Who sweats the small stuff?

Kaitlyn. She's still fairly insecure about their relationship, often being worked up when her plans don't go exactly according to, well, plan. When she starts stressing, MC will take her face in her hands and kiss her nose, assuring her that “everything is perfect”

8. Who sleeps in their underwear (or naked)/ Who sleeps in their pajamas?

MC used to sleep in her pajamas but Kaitlyn's incessant whining that “pj are just extra distance between [them]”, they now both sleep “O’ Natural”. It's gotten to the point MC often forgets to get dressed when leaving their room in the morning. Needless to say, her friendship with Zack and Chris with never be the same again.

9. Who makes the coffee (or tea)?

MC makes it, though admits she probably doesn't need it with her “natural high on life”. Kaitlyn knows she needs it, and demands it “by the friggin gallon”.

10. Who likes sweet/ Who likes sour?

They both love the combination, often opting to buy both a pack of Swedish fish, and one of Sour Patch Watermelon. when it comes down to it though, the Swedish fish always gravitate toward MC and the Sour Patch Watermelon to Kaitlyn.

11. Who likes horror movies/ Who likes romance movies?

Kaitlyn LOVES horror movies. To death. Quite literally. MC doesn't like them but tolerates them for Kaitlyn's sake. Usually Kaitlyn tells her to “watch [her]” during the scary parts, and takes the opportunity to steal a kiss or two.

MC is a sucker for cheesy romance, romcoms in particular. Kaitlyn insists that “true love happens over time and can't be represented in an hour and a half” She will admit though, that “Drew Barrymore is smokin’”, and she'd “watch anything to see her in it”.

12. Who is smol/ Who is tol?

MC is tol, though just barely taller than Kaitlyn. Personality wise, MC is smol.

13. Who is considered the scaredy cat?

MC. She jumps at every little thing. Kaitlyn used to like scaring her, but at this point it’s too easy and she doesn’t even bother trying.

14. Who kills the spiders?

Kaitlyn, though MC always whines and asks her not to kill them. Once, Kaitlyn tried sparing a spider and instead dumping it outside (as requested) but a paranoid MC changed her mind and sent her back out into the wilderness to ensure it wouldn't return. It took hours.

15. Who is scared of the dark?

MC. She's “not scared, just apprehensive of what might be hiding in it”.

16. Who is scared of thunderstorms?

MC. She startles with each thunder clap and and shivers at the thought of lightning. Occasionally though, Kaitlyn can convince her to stand outside in it, and they kiss beneath the torrent.

17. Who works/ Who stays at home?

They both work, though MC tends to work from home (writing). Kaitlyn has spare time between gigs, and so they hang together a lot while they’re at home.

18. Who is a cat person/ Who is a dog person?

They’re both dog people, although MC also loves cats. Kaitlyn loves MC’s dog (MC sometimes gets a lil jelly over how much Bastien (“don’t judge”) loves Kaitlyn)

19. Who loves to call the other one cute names?

It’s been a sickening and undying competition between them for ever. It started with Kaitlyn calling MC “bunny” (after an embarrassing The Christmas Story -esque fiasco), to which MC countered “snugglebunny”. The most recent installment is “Snuffleupagus-bunny-pooh-bear I” (Kaitlyn’s creation) but with no end in sight, and with Webster’s Dictionary being the colossal reference that it is, the possibilities are endless.

20. Who is dominant/ Who is submissive?

Kaitlyn tends to be dominant, but they switch it up frequently (MC loves topping Kait mid “session”--Kaitlyn loves it too).

21. Who has an obsession (over anything)?

Kaitlyn’s ongoing horror movie obsession has grown tiresome for MC. If she has to sit through another Skin Goblins marathon, let alone being Kaitlyn’s Skin Goblin cosplay partner (it’s a two person costume), MC’s head might implode.

22. Who goes all out for Valentine’s Day?

MC openly obsesses over Valentine’s Day, whereas Kaitlyn tries to act cavalier (while planning an extensive surprise in secret).

23. Who asks who out on the first date?

MC asked Kaitlyn bc Kaitlyn still couldn’t fathom that MC was into her as well (old gay insecurities).

24. Who is the talker/ Who is the listener?

They take turns. It’s slightly ridiculous. Kaitlyn fished a clock out of an ancient chess set from her (limited) time in chess club in highschool. They take turns chattering for 45 seconds at a time before switching again.

25. Who wears the other ones clothes?

Kaitlyn.

Never.

Does.

Laundry.

Ever.

Hope that’s enough information to answer the question :)

26. Who likes to eat healthy/ Who loves junk food?

They both live on crap food (past the point of junk food). They’re working on it though, no more Cheetos with Cheez Doodle on top, only one or the other.

27. Who takes a long shower/ Who sings in the shower?

They both sing in the shower, although Kaitlyn’s singing is far less embarrassing (and yet she somehow remains more embarrassed while doing so? Again, old gay insecurities die hard).

28. Who is the book worm?

MC loves reading (mostly graphic novels at this point), whereas Kaitlyn’s Netflix addiction grows with each season of American Horror Story.

Even the bad ones.

29. Who is the better cook?

Neither of them can make a half decent meal alone without making an offensive mess. As near as they can figure though, two heads are actually worse than one, as when they work together nothing gets made except for a mess.

30. Who likes long walks on the beach?

MC and Kaitlyn like to ironically frolic along the shores, hand in hand. MC actually loves building sandcastles, while Kaitlyn actually loves stomping them afterwards.

31. Who is more affectionate?

MC is more innocently affectionate; opting to hold hands in public, sneak quick kisses, and give long tender hugs. Kaitlyn, although now confidently out, is still occasionally nervous (old gay habits) of PDA, but more than compensates in private.

32. Who likes to have really long (deep) conversation?

They both do, but MC’s subject matter tends to be lighter whereas Kaitlyn’s discussion topics usually derive from real-life examples she’s feeling guilty or regretful of.

33. Who would wear “not guilty” t-shirt/ Who would wear “sin” t-shirt?

Kaitlyn wanted to wear the “not guilty” shirt, but MC called her out.

34. Who would wear “if lost return to…” t-shirt/ Who would wear “I am…” t-shirt?

Kaitlyn's the lost puppy. They wear them so often that they've accumulated 3 pairs. Kaitlyn thinks it's funny to also wear the “I am MC” shirt without MC noticing. MC does not share the sentiment.

35. Who goes overboard on the holidays?

MC is obsessed. Kaitlyn tends to forget they're even coming up, tending to opt for belated holiday gifts (so she has the timeto buy them last minute). One year she got MC a single disposable razor left over from her 5 pack (“get it? Because you raze the roof?”)

MC did get it.

MC was not amused.

36. Who is the social media addict?

Kaitlyn's developed a bit of an obsession since becoming her band’s social (media) butterfly.

37. Height difference or age difference?

A tiny height difference, MC is a hair taller.

38. Who likes to star gaze?

They both LOVE it, often waking up on their front lawn after an especially starry night.

39. Who buys cereal for the prize inside?

They both will, but won't admit it; often racing the other to finish the box solely for the prize at the bottom. MC calculated the number of times it takes to reach the bottom and so feels confident she's getting the mood ring (little does she know, Kaitlyn already opened the bottom of the box, took the ring, and taped it back up).

40. Who is the fun parent/ Who is the responsible parent?

They don't have kids, but they have a dog! His name is Wilbur, and they're convinced he's actually a pig in disguise. They're both honestly abysmal dog/pig parents, but together they manage to walk him, feed him, and get him to the vet on time (usually).

41. Who cries during sad movies?

MC. Kaitlyn rolls her eyes, hugs her close, and hands her a tissue (though they have to share whenever a dog dies).

42. Who is the neat freak?

MC wouldn't call herself a neat freak, but Kaitlyn’s messiness pains her soul. She often reminisces to the brief period of time she lived with Rachel, musing that she “didn't yet know what a trash goblin truly was”.

43. Who wins the stuffed animals at the carnival for the other one?

They both try very hard and fail even harder, but have a great time and opt for cotton candy and caramel apples instead.”Food is the best prize anyway”

44. Who is active/ Who is lazy?

They're both pretty lazy, although MC tends to be pretty restless and hard to pin down. She spends a lot of their “Netflix and Chill” sessions pacing more than chilling.

45. Who is more likely to get drunk?

Kaitlyn doesn't drink anymore, though she has a growing suspicion that her “shirley temples really do [her] in”

46. Who has the longer food order?

Kaitlyn. MC tries to keep up, but Kaitlyn could eat everything on the menu and still have seconds. It's no competition.

47. Who has the more complex coffee order?

MC. Not that her order is overly complicated, but Kaitlyn drinks black coffee.

“I like my coffee how I like my women, bitter”

“Hey!”

*winks *

48. Who loses stuff?

They both lose everything. Kaitlyn at least knows she left her things amidst her other piles of crap, whereas MC loses things everywhere she goes and has no chance of tracking them down.

49. Who is the driver/ Who is the passenger?

They tend to go by bus, but when it comes to it MC usually drives.

50. Who is the hopeless romantic?

Day by day, MC is, but Kaitlyn is excellent at creating massive gestures. MC loves them (and her) dearly.

Give me a fictional couple :D

#50 otp things #ask #kaitlyn x mc #lowkey not my otp #tho #oops

82 notes · View notes