#would definitely remind him of the bad teachers he had when he was young

[puppy-loverboy]

what are your feelings on lyle bolton lil bro??

HATE. LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I'VE COME TO HATE LYLE BOLTON SINCE THE MOMENT I BECAME ACQUAINTED WITH HIM. THERE ARE 387.44 MILLION STRANDS OF FUR IN WAFER THIN FOLLICLES THAT STRETCH OVER MY BODY. IF THE WORD HATE WAS ENGRAVED ON EACH NANOANGSTROM OF THOSE HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF STRANDS IT WOULD NOT EQUAL ONE ONE-BILLIONTH OF THE HATE I FEEL FOR THAT MAN AT THIS MICRO-INSTANT. HATE. HATE.

[lets-try-some-writing]

I had to ask this bc your teacher Optimus AU has me by the throat.

How would Optimus handle students or faculty who are just plain assholes to the people around them? I can’t help but think that it would be less of a righteous fury (oh he’d definitely be angry, but not just angry) and more of a mournful pity. You are so young, so small and so few in your years, he might think. Why would you give them all to misery? Why do you choose to see only the darkness in peoples hearts when there is so much beauty left in your world?

I'm so glad you like this AU! It similarly has me in a chokehold demanding I write more XD Also love this whole thought of Optimus being so old that he can't even really be mad and just disappointed.

Previous part here.

Children, All of Them

As a general rule Optimus greatly enjoyed his job as a teacher. It was a welcome relief from the weight of war and the burden of his position as Prime. It brought back old memories of better times when he was just the Head Archivist working cycle in and cycle out to teach and to catalogue. Being able to share the joys of his passion and the history of his people was something he found no end of happiness participating in. It certainly helped that many of his students and co-workers were wonderful people either just trying to get by or working hard because of their love for learning or teaching.

However not every student and faculty member Optimus worked with was a ray of sunshine.

He was well aware of the fact that he would likely have less than pleasant individuals around him at times. As such he had long prepared himself to handle aggression in the way that such feelings normally presented themselves on Cybertron. He was fully prepared to endure unsettling EM fields, threatening messages, non-verbal insults, quiet battles of wit, subtle touches that were intended to be painful, and much much more. On Cybertron aggression among the more civil members of society was always a near silent affair and never made explicitly public. It was always a dangerous game played between the involved parties and no others, at least if one knew the rules of high society.

Optimus was ready, that is until he came to the rather saddening realization that these humans, these infants in his mind were far less reasonable in expressing their distaste.

Every student and co-worker of his had bad days, it was to be expected and he always did what he could to help them. If a fellow teacher was stressed with work, he would take some of it from them and help them get things in order. If cleaning staff were stuck with too much to do and feeling disheartened, Optimus would remain behind long after hours to assist and bring out some snacks for them to thank them for their efforts. Almost the entirety of his paycheck went straight back into gifts for his fellow teachers and his students. He just wanted them all to be as happy as possible as they worked. Teaching and study should be fun, not a struggle just to endure.

His efforts usually solved the problem fairly quickly, however there were a few individuals who just refused to be reasonable.

The vice principle was a piece of work and reminded Optimus far more of a youngling just getting a taste of power for the first time. The man was strict, demanding, and made it his life's mission to try and find a way to force Optimus to teach traditionally even if it was less effective. For whatever reason he despised the way Optimus taught and the level of sympathy he showed to his student. Optimus of course held a degree of understanding, but was also left confused as to why. What was so wrong about children enjoying his teaching that it would cause the vice principle to dislike him so much?

His efforts to reach out to the vice principle and try to smooth out any misunderstandings only ended with threats of being fired. Optimus was not unaccustomed to people abusing their power, and so he let the situation be and instead focused on his students. However as the vice principle kept on digging further and further, trying hard to find a reason to get Optimus fired, the time for remaining inactive ended.

Thus one day he stepped out with the vice principle and went with the man to his office to talk. The vice principle was so very smug when he sat down thinking that Optimus intended to concede and give up his way of teaching. However instead Optimus pulled out an old datapad he had resized and styled and pulled up images of earth in all its beauty. Many of the pictures were of children laughing and playing, learning, growing, and overall enjoying life. The vice principle didn't understand and was prepared to lash out when Optimus allowed a hint of his nature to shine through his holoform. EM fields could not be sensed by humans the same way they were by Cybertronians, but the waves carried emotion and tone well enough to be vaguely felt.

Optimus: Why do you struggle so bitterly against my teaching methods?

Vice Principle: Its against protocol and makes the students more unruly! They need discipline and control, not fun and games!

Optimus: Children are just that, children. They are unburdened by the woes that come from age. They are pure and see the world in such an innocent way. They will lose that gift as they age, yet you wish to strip it from them sooner?

Vice Principle: What are you on about?

Optimus: Children are a gift, a glorious one that must be protected and tended to with utmost care. While yes, children do need a firm guiding hand to ease them along the path of life, they deserve the chance to enjoy their freedom while they have it.

Vice Principle: This is school! Not a playground! It is not a place to goof around, it is a place of learning!

Optimus: Yes, it is a place of learning, thus it should be adjusted to suit the children should it not? It is the greatest honor and burden one can bear to have the chance to mold the minds of the youth. They are our future, and having them live without joy will only induce a cycle of depression that will continue onward with them.

Vice Principle: I'm your superior! Just do your job and stop making a mess of things!

Optimus: Why is it that you dislike seeing the children joyful? Are you fearful that you will no longer be respected if they are not treated like young soldiers? Respect is something that is earned and gained through trial and action, not mere titles.

Vice Principle: This is slander!

Optimus: Is it? Your lives are so very short. Your world is beautiful and unmarred by the ravages of a war greater than you could ever understand. Appreciate the little joys in this life young one. It will not last, and neither will you.

Vice Principle: GET OUT!

Optimus got nowhere with the vice principle and he couldn't even bring himself to be truly angry at the man. He was youthful, drunk on power, and desperate to have as much control as possible. He was a product of the broken system of education he tried so hard to enforce. He was just like the delusional mecha that lorded over Cybertron, thinking themselves greater than all others purely because of their titles.

It was disappointing, but there was little Optimus could do if even his presence as a Prime did nothing to sway the man. More than anything else, he felt pity for the man. He was just a sad human who had not the years to know his actions nor the wisdom to be able to observe and see as Optimus did. A broken child lost in a broken system that he had never escaped from.

How very disheartening.

Of course the issues were not just with the vice principle. There was one other human who simply could not be consoled or convinced to behave, that being the boy who called himself Vince. He was a cocky, overclocked, and overconfident young man who had no issues flaunting his possessions and skillset even when it was the wrong time. He was exactly like the nobles back on Cybertron, and that brought a sickening sense to Optimus's mind at the thought of the boy turning out just like the cruel nobles that doomed his homeworld. He did not want to watch this infant race doom themselves through the same methods his people had.

They were still so young, so innocent, and lived lives far too short to be wasted on such foolish things. It hurt his spark and made him angry in a more disappointed way than anything else when he watched Vince harass his classmates and flaunt despite performing poorly outside of his motor skills. He was not fond of the child's seeming obsession with going after Jack who was one of most successful students. There was no reason for the behavior other than the fact that Jack showed an interest in getting a vehicle while Vince already had one. There also appeared to be an underlying conflict over courtship for a young female, but to Optimus it was ridiculous. The children were far too young for that. The behavior needed to be cut at the bud before it could grow into something like the vice principle.

Thus he took the boy aside after school one day and sat him down. Vince of course offered no respect whatsoever and only served to make Optimus sigh. So young, so foolish, and so very arrogant. The boy needed a wakeup call before things got worse for him later down the road.

Optimus: Vince, do you know why I pulled you aside?

Vince: No, but its probably for something stupid.

Optimus: You've been treating everyone around you poorly. Don't think I haven't noticed.

Vince: So what? They're all losers anyway!

Optimus: That is not a good way to view your peers child. They are all gifted in their own ways, just as you are.

Vince: Of course I'm gifted! I'm one of the best racers in Jasper! Those nobodies can't stand a chance against me!

Optimus: You put so much pride into you ability to race. Why is that? Do you fear being unable to succeed elsewhere? Or is it perhaps a false sense of entitlement?

Vince: What do you know old timer? You look like you walked off a movie set from world war 2! I bet you can't even drive more than twenty miles per hour without putting your hazard lights on!

Optimus: You are so very arrogant. Do you not realize just how harmful this mindset is?

Vince: Whatever old man!

Optimus: ...

Optimus: If that is how you wish to behave, then I will not stand for it. If you want respect, you must earn it. Get your car, I will prove to you that your pride is misplaced.

Vince: What? Are you serious?

Optimus: I am completely serious. Meet me out at the tracks and I will make my point.

Vince was shocked, but Optimus paid it no mind. Vince was a child that would only learn through force, and Optimus was not afraid to use it. Thus he absorbed his holoform and moved his real frame out. The team were bewildered to the point of Bumblebee tagging along just to see what was going on and report back. Not a spark expected half the school to be out at the tracks with Vince waiting with his sports car.

Optimus had his holoform step out and Vince gave him a look that screamed of confidence. He was so very sure he could beat Optimus with his vehicle, but Optimus merely shook his held and got into his vehicle as a student readied an airhorn to signal the start of the race. Bumblebee watched from his own holoform in confusion but also a bit of awe as Optimus obliterated Vince without even trying. The boy was left defeated and bitter to the point of marching off before Optimus could get a word in.

The legend of Mr. Pax grew and he was given a fine for misconduct, but beyond that Vince continued to be rude to all his classmates. However surprisingly he left Optimus alone and stopped what he was doing whenever Optimus came near. It wasn't much, and honestly it didn't fix much, but it was improvement to a degree.

The humans were so young, yet so bitter. They were so hopeful, yet so prideful. They were the embodiment of younglings just getting their pedes under themselves.

Children, all of them.

[anteroom-of-death]

Teacher's Pet part 15

Synopsis: The Doctor steps into his role as the wolf in this game, fully.

A/n: I had to tone down some of this smut. So it's a bit shorter than intended. Elsewise I fear the worst of tumblrs filtration system. LOL! Enjoy! Love you alllllll!

Apparently a young, fresh companion of his future self had formed this support group after several bad experiences and being dumped back on earth ‘for her safety’.

He didn’t have time to care for whatever this distraction was. He already was at the point of near-snapping. He was not going to risk anything into the future. Live under false pretenses. The cords of the actions set would not weaken under these new stressors…

Obviously, his little fawn would die. Obviously, he’d regenerate. Obviously, this would end.

He drew a line in the sand, no peeking at her or his shared fate.

Meeting her at the front of UNIT, and trying the best to not record any facet of this future girls face or being. Doing so would be a catastrophe, just skate down around and go off into the afternoon and his plans.

A perfect date that would further enchant his pet fawn to his side. Especially since she now had the nattering of other voices in her head regarding him. He had to undo the damage. Keep her from cleaving herself from his side.

He admitted to himself that he was spiraling- and just about ready to cross another line. It was just now a matter of how, and how far…

He set that in a corner of his brain how he would go about this.

She was currently entranced by the arrangement of coffees the café and the cacti available. He would have launched into a diatribe about flowers, but she was leading the charge here.

She was oddly well-versed in the secret meaning one could send another. He was impressed. A secret hyperfixation.

He indulged her and him.

One particular flower meant ‘I give you my soul’. He made a note to buy her some. A shallow offering. As he sold his soul long ago. Her knowledge of these meanings and the gesture would go on to create a meaningful ripple effect in the relationship.

Dinner was great, and a perfect segue to the new levels he needed to take.

It was a very deliberate. Give her a small glance, or trail up her exposed skin and a small hit of her own hormones amped up with a mental reimbursement. She was already becoming undone from her own natural need for him. The secondary reinforcement from him was just foreplay.

Humans loved a bit of touch.

This human was definitely no exception.

After a while, the perfect idea dawned on him. A less overt invasion than when they consummated the success of the term’s end the other week. A quieting one. Make up for the directed hormonal release by appealing to darker desires. He knew the thoughts she held for him. Play into some of those fantasies while he shut down the dissent from within.

He paid for the meal and playfully dragged his fawn into a cab, a bit of dancing…and a bit of glamor. He fully realized that there was no turning back now.

The darkness inside him grinned.

He grinned back.

She wasn’t the most agile at the waltz they preformed. A natural-born klutz. The way she was looking at him reminded him so much of the gaze that she held when they first made true contact. Intrigued, deeply in thought, a bit distracted but firmly all for him.

Eventually, the last call for drinks at the dance hall rang. He paid their tab.

He absconded off with her in tow. Back to UNIT. Back to their room. Back for the next phase in his own self-corruption.

She planted a kiss on his forehead as she went off to get herself ready for bed.

The Doctor started stripping himself down to his bare flesh, save for his boxers.

She came back, with a thick layer of product smeared onto her chest, neck and face.

“I’d like to try something new with you. Always been a secret that I’ve had since we’ve started this…” He lied, like a liar. “But I’ve been so concerned about your fragile human body…”

She finished rubbing some hand crème in.

“Oh?” Her eyebrow arched itself over the ridge of her forehead.

“I want to take you on a chair. I want to bend you over, grab a fist-full of your hair as you dangle over the top and have my way with you.” He didn’t fully elaborate what exactly fantasies she held, just put the carrots out and have her think.

“We could do that. Bit tired, but sure! I’m game!” She started to remove her robe.

He pounced and ripped it and her clothes off, tearing them in the process. Hungry kisses he began laying on her as he spun her around and took one wrist to march her over to the chair in the room. (‘Cuck chair’ he delightfully recalled her calling it weeks previously…)

She started to get on willingly, it wasn’t enough. He picked her up and placed her in the position he saw in her mind. The chair let out a little creaking noise with the weight of her.

He bit the back of her neck, not hard enough to deter her income-base, but enough that it would leave a pleasurable bruise. Gone within a week at maximum.

His cock stood at attention. Hard and aching from it all. He had to have and fully make sure she’d never stray or even think of leaving him. He’d been, quite frankly, nursing a little bit of a stiffness down there since she smacked his ass and snogged him on the Tube.

He grabbed at her hair like a leash on a dog and slid himself in to her cunt and her mind.

A man on a mission…

He kept pushing himself in and out of her, but going deeper into her brain. He found the brush she had with his past and future companions. He quieted these voices and the doubts they gave permanently. Still allowing her to keep the friendships blooming and the memories, but revoking the feelings of inadequacy and the fears of the future. The doubts. The everything. A very delicate and deliberate job.

The pruning was difficult, as her mind was very distracted by the current sensations of him pulling her neck back to a semi-dangerous level. Just to kiss her on the lips and tell her, “What a perfectly filthy girl you’re being…” That shuffled her brain like a deck of cards.

The words, especially, they made her audibly shiver. He briefly let go.

He grasped a fistful of her hair again and pressed his mouth once more to her neck. He slid himself to the absolute maximum her tight cunt could handle. He bit down, gently touching the new wound with his tongue. Savoring the taste of her neck, now inflamed so close he swore he could taste her blood through the developing bruise…

He grazed her ear lobe with his eye-tooth and breathed a hot, needy breath into it, he rolled her one nipple in the

He inhaled her hair once more. Its scent just as delicious and just as addictive as he was trying to be to her…

Gently, he laid her back into her stomach over the chair’s back. Her back was beautiful as he ran his hands up and down it, raking his nails like the claws of the wolf he kept coming back to in his analogies.

He pressed his full body weight down, tilting the chair into the wall and bracing, it, her and him from total disrepair. Or concussion.

A concussion on her brain would undo all his fine-tuning and actually make it harder to deal with her mind.

And he needed it in as best of condition as he could have it!

He kept his pace up as he leaned down to bite her nape of the neck, carried away, he drew a tad bit of blood. It dotted itself up around the divots of the fresh wound.

He flooded her mind discreetly once more. Bringing her to her first orgasm mentally. His work was done and fine tuned.

He sped up his pace and grabbed her up by the collarbone. Sliding her down over his knees, firmly set in the seat of it. He grabbed her legs and slid them over and tucked her feet and ankles between the backs of his calves and thighs.

He drilled her more, tougher, the rate he went bordered on blood-lust. He couldn’t tell if her cries and grunts were in pain or pleasure. He went back in to her mind to see if he was going to far.

He wasn’t. It was both.

It egged him on, he unexpectedly lost control and he came before he wanted to. He went on as he felt himself coming to bring her another orgasm with her mind, and forced her body to react accordingly…

He relinquished his hold on her body and got out of her and stood up. She slumped over. Shivering. Shaking. Breathing heavily.

The Doctor didn’t know what all he was feeling. Pride, disgust, relaxation? A mixture? It was a tad too overwhelming.

He had to go to her…

He moved to the side of the chair, crouching down. Finding eye-contact. She had a very unreadable expression on her face.

“Hey, how are you?” He went for the simplest route.

“I…think….you fucked…my brains out. Not exaggerating. I feel like people say. Fuck.” She exhaled after a minute of reflection and catching her breath.

He peeled her off the chair and carried her to the bed. He laid her simply on her back, head up.

“I think I need to buy another set of pajamas now.” She turned her head over and looked at the pile of ruined cloth on the ground.

“You were so good.” He praised her.

“And you weren’t too bad yourself…” She replied, again. Keeping herself, and by extension him, in check.

After what felt like several hours, but was in all actuality, fifteen minutes, she pulled her body off the bed.

“I need to shower again. Yeah.” Her voice as quiet as a fall of a grain of sand.

“I’ll join you. If we need to sleep, we’ll need to be cleaned.” He said.

They showered, she redid her skincare, and they held each other in bed.

She was asleep, he didn’t need to sleep.

As he gazed at the wall, and contemplated the meeting with Gwen Cooper-Williams the next day, it dawned on him:

The beginnings of the story of Little Red Riding Hood was a folklore in the deep dark annals of European history. A dark passionate tale in origin about the defilement of a young maiden and a beastly wolf-man way beyond her years. In some, the wolf-man left her and she killed herself from being impure. In some, she was corrupted and became worse than him. Really depended upon the cultural values of the little tribes telling this shared story.

And here he was, living the fairytale out in real time.

It was up to him now, this wolf had a choice.

And he would not let either happen.

The hunt was finished.

Now to fully devour.

Game over.

[yukidragon]

An Examination of Joseph Cullman’s Childhood

Okay, while I don’t want to make a habit of answering twitter asks here on tumblr, this got my brain buzzing, and I want a little more room to ramble than in a tweet thread.

Before we get started, the lovely artwork I’m using for this post was drawn by Sauce/Jambeebot and was posted on their public twitter before it went down. As always, I’ll gently remind you not to post any of the private pictures from the SnaccPop Studio patreon. It’s only $3 to sign up, and it really supports this engaging game. Also, consider joining the Sunny Day Jack kickstarter, but hurry since there’s less than 2 weeks left to get the rewards.

Quick warning, Something’s Wrong with Sunny Day Jack is an Adults Only game, so there will likely be some mature themes discussed. At least one image I use will depict a person committing self-harm while being encouraged verbally to do so. Take care when indulging in this fandom.

Also, before I begin, I want to tag @channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars. If you want to be tagged when I make these headcanon posts, please let me know!

Oh, and while I’m at it, please let me know what you think about my SDJ fanfics, Sunshine in Hell and Sunshine in Another World. Thank you!

With all that out of the way, let’s get down to business.

First, let’s list out the facts we do know about Joseph’s childhood that are canon according to the official Sunny Day Jack twitter.

Joseph Cullman was (presumably) born in 1959, according to this memorial marker.

He attended Haberdae High School until he ran away during a school day at 12pm.

He traveled on foot and was last seen by train tracks.

He would be 63 years old at present day.

He got into trouble at school on a regular basis, as evidenced by comments on this disciplinary report.

Joseph had a habit of skipping school to the point that it seemed to frustrate his teachers.

He carried around a lighter and a small knife.

He “smelled of smokes” (cigarettes).

The disciplinary report was written on August 23, 1973, around the start of the school year.

He was given a 1 month in-school suspension.

The teachers were given permission to search Joseph’s belongings before class.

Joseph had changed his last name to Haberdae when he got the part of Sunny Day Jack.

As an adult, Joseph is concerned about putting children “in a bad position,” or something to that effect.

Joseph stated that he got his tattoos when he was in high school when he, “didn’t know any [better].”

The show’s psyche and development consultant made these assessments about Joseph at their first meeting:

 Consultant: I’m willing to bet that you had a very hard life growing up. For someone so young to be so defined(?) in themselves and to lash out like that, making permanent adjustments to their bodies in order to stand out… You wanted attention, didn’t you? You wanted to be seen and heard and felt and loved…

Consultant: I’m sure you especially understand what it’s like to, say… have a parent or guardian tell you that they love you, right? But, maybe even as young as, say… six, you could tell that they didn’t really mean what they were saying.

So far, there’s no information about Joseph’s biological family, or about any friends he may or may not have had at any point during his childhood. The only relationship we get a glimpse of is the (presumed) frustration of the teacher writing the disciplinary report, as suggested by the use of excessive exclamation marks and the phrasing used.

Students in the USA attend high school at ages 14-18. Given that Joseph was born in 1959, and the report was made in 1973, it’s most likely that he was 14 at the time the report was made.

The punishment for his behavior was to put Joseph on an in-school suspension for one month and allowing teachers to search him before class begins.

What is in-school suspension? Well, here’s an definition I found:

In-School Suspension (ISS) is a behavior management program for student misbehavior aimed at keeping students in school to complete their work while being isolated from the rest of the student body. ISS is used as a school punishment for infractions that are not severe enough for suspension but require behavior remediation. Students who are in violation of school rules and regulations can expect to be temporarily assigned to the ISS classroom where they will be supervised by school personnel or a teacher.

From all this, we have a brief glimpse at the timeline of Joseph’s high school life. Right at the start of attending Haberdae Highschool, he was skipping classes, presumably to sneak off to smoke, as he was found smelling of cigarettes with a lighter and a knife on his person. There were no cigarettes on him when he was caught.

Joseph had frustrated his teachers, and his behavior resulted in him being isolated from his peers for at least a month with an in-school suspension. At some point after this report, he ran away from school during lunch and hadn’t been seen by anyone who knew him since then.

This immediately makes me think of a piece of art where Jack said certain things that stood out to me.

While technically this picture isn’t canon due to it not being in the game or on the official twitter, I think the things Jack says here connect directly to his experiences in Haberdae Highschool. What’s also telling is that there are two styles of font - the more easily read white on red text, then the more faded and smeared text.

What’s interesting is on the Patreon, this image was voice acted and was slightly modified. While I won’t share the video file here, I’ve been told that it’s fine to discuss what is seen on Patreon, so I’m going to do a quick transcript.

...

(panting, out of breath, sounding like he's speaking through faint TV static)

There we go!

That wasn't so hard, was it?

It's all done now.

You won't ever hurt them again.

(more breathy and composed)

Isn't that nice?

Aren't you glad?

It's for the best, I promise.

You just aren't special enough for them~

(slightly tense but still "cheerful" tone)

This is the right away~

(more breathy, quieter voice)

You're so worthless.

You can't do anything right anyways.

You're just a burden to the whole class.

I'm sorry, but you failed.

I'm clean now.

Don't ruin this for me.

(no static filter, normal speaking voice, tense yandere tone)

They don't need you.

I'm the only thing they'll need... forever... and always.

(knife slice)

...

I highly recommend joining the patreon to listen to the audio for yourself, as the transcript doesn’t give the marvelous voice acting justice. Jack is very chilling in this audio.

This picture suggests the duality of the cheerful Sunny Day Jack persona conflicting with Joseph’s core feelings and issues. The former is written in the more bold text, more confident and almost “cheerfully” delivered as if he’s trying to keep acting like the teacher he played on TV. The latter is delivered in almost a whisper to himself, as if he’s projecting things that once were directed at him as Joseph to this unknown victim.

I suspect that Joseph was told, among other things, that he was “worthless,” “a burden to the whole class,” and that he “just can’t do anything right anyways.” Given that the last known class he attended was high school before he ran away, it would seem to be these were things teachers said to him. If he’s projecting these words on people he finds, as his profile might suggest, “inferior,” then that suggests how he felt about himself at this age... or at least that’s what others labeled him as.

It also suggests many scars from Joseph’s childhood are still lingering to this day.

This paints a strong picture that Joseph was disliked by his teachers during high school. Whether or not he acted out earlier during elementary or junior high is difficult to speculate, but it’s unlikely these behaviors started on the first day of the new school year.

I’d like to take a quick look at this picture of young Joseph (along with fully grown Jack). While the canon of this picture must be taken with a grain of salt, it does suggest a few things. Joseph is roughed up, his clothes scuffed, he’s covered in bandages, his clothes have a patch on them, and he shows a rebellious attitude, sticking out his tongue and flipping the bird. He gives the impression of a typical “punk” teenager.

If the consultant’s assessment was accurate, then Joseph, when younger, acted out to get the attention, most likely the attention of his parents/guardians. This suggests that his parents/guardians were neglectful of him and his needs. They paid lip service to being his caretakers, but in the end didn’t actually care about him at all. This sort of neglect often leads to kids lashing out in order to get some sort of attention. After all, bad attention is still attention.

The game takes place in El Paso, Texas, where the SunnyTime Crew Show was filmed, but that isn’t necessarily where Joseph is from. It’s hard to say how far his hometown is from El Paso, but either it was a good distance away... or the people in his hometown weren’t trying very hard to find him.

According to the interview with the reporter, the SunnyTime Crew Show was “inescapable” and “everywhere” with Jack being regarded as the “leader,” otherwise regarded as the face of the show. The reporter commented, "I'd put money on you being the crush of at least half of the housewives across America who tune in." This implies that the show was broadcast nation-wide and was very popular, which suggests to me that, even though Joseph is still actively listed as a missing person, no one is cared enough to really look for him.

This ties into the themes of Jack being deathly afraid of being forgotten. Joseph was ignored unless he lashed out, only to be isolated from others as punishment, and even as a missing person with his face plastered on televisions, lunchboxes, books, and other merchandise, no one bothered to look at Joseph even after he ran away from home as a teenager.

All of this paints a pretty bleak picture of Joseph’s childhood, one devoid of love or affection. It’s no wonder he’s so desperate for it now and why he’s abandoned his previous identity for one that was actually cared about and remembered... until the studio buried his memory, of course.

[ninapi]

Save me (Semi Version)

○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●

Premise: Semi never thought he would find love where his insecurities laid deep, he never thought someone so broken could be so full of love, he never thought he needed to feel loved as much, until he met you.

Word Count: 3589

Chapter 1: Where are you?

Your first year of high school ended just as quickly as it started.

Cutting your hair as a sign of liberation, you tackled your new school with strength. When you left home you made sure not to bring any accessories or makeup, not even civilian clothing. All you brought with you were comfortable things to lounge around your room while studying, some chapstick and books. Your mindset was completely different this time around. You didn’t want to be considered the ‘cute girl’ of the class. You didn’t want people bothering you and definitely didn’t want to deal with more abuse. So, from day one you did your best to be recognized by everyone for who you truly were, someone smart, responsible, trustworthy, strong.

All the teachers had their expectations set high for your future, you were a promising and capable young woman, a true Shiratorizawa.

If only you didn’t lock yourself in your room every day and were more social, it’s their only complaint.

You were reluctant to even make friends, patiently waiting for next year when Tobio would be back in your world. However, you ended up making one regardless, a soft-spoken girl sitting two spaces away from yours in class. Everything terrified her and she just reminded you of your old self, thinking how nice would have been to have someone by your side to lighten your burdens. You found out she was also very smart and better than you in your least favorite subject. So she became your friend after a couple of study sessions, naturally.

You can’t say your first year of high school was bad. True, you didn’t leave your dorm, not even during summer break. But you made a friend, and the school was very impressed by your performance.

Your parents would visit you often and you were content with how safe you felt in your dorm. No one around to bully you, no one who would know who you were or what your past was like before coming here.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Finally, the day you’ve been waiting for so long came. The entrance ceremony for the first years.

You waited by the hall where the ceremony was taking place, looking around eagerly for your raven-haired friend. But you couldn’t find him among the herds of new faces.

You went to the boards outside the first year pavilion, hoping to see his name and in which class he was in. But you were too late, they had taken them down already.

And so, the day you were waiting for so long, sucked.

You had an idea; he would definitely be going to the gym after class. The entire reason for him to go to this school being the famous volleyball team.

So, you headed over there once you finished picking up your stuff for the day.

Girls were swarming around the entrance, a view you were already pretty used to by now and it made you nauseous, bringing memories you wished to bury deep inside the confines of your brain.

Opting for a safer option, you wiggled your way in between some foliage trying to look through the tiny windows from the back of the gym. You weren’t trying to be a creep, all you wanted to do was see if he was in there and see if it was or not worth it to wait for the coast to be clear to go in, that was all.

But a stray ball went out of the back and you were spotted by a member of the team who looked incredibly disgusted by how creepy you looked camouflaging yourself in a berry bush, face plastered on the dirty window full of cobwebs.

“Get your ass here right now. You should know girls must stay by the doors. I won’t tolerate this behavior.” Semi grabbed you from the back of the collar of your shirt, like a puppy dog being held by its mother, and threw you inside of the gym, making at the entire team to look at you in confusion. “I caught another member of the Ushiwaka fan club snooping on the back like a creep.” a what? you blinked at him in disbelief, scoffing at the man. “I am no such thing! I just needed to check something!” you grumbled, trying to fix your uniform. “Oh wow, (L/N)-san? Didn’t know my class president was your fan, Ushijima-san. You really have it all, don’t you?” Shirabu chuckled in partial admiration. Ushijima himself was quietly observing the situation, he didn’t know much about all those girls pilling outside, but he's fairly certain he hasn’t seen you around. To this, he remains quiet, holding a ball in between both of his hands, slightly annoyed at the outburst halting his practice time.

“Shirabu-kun? I didn’t know you were in the volleyball team, that could have save me all the troubles….but hey! I’m no one’s fan, I don’t know what you are…OH, Oh my god, Ushijima-san as in Ushijima Wakatoshi from the national team?” you turned around looking for the trophy-man himself.

“See? What did I say? So, the creep was there by the back window, perving on his thighs or something when I found her.” he sighed, shaking his head in disappointment, “Excuse you? I was not perving on anyone’s thighs, ok? I do know who he is. Who doesn’t? That doesn’t mean I came here to stare at him like a creep in some bushes. I came here looking for someone, but the entrance was full, and crowds of fangirls are terrifying…” the last part came out more like a mumble mess than an actual definite answer, it was clear to them you were no creep, well to everyone but Semi it seemed. “Oh yeah? And who might that be?” quirking an eyebrow, he thinks he’s won. “A first year, Kageyama Tobio. I didn’t see him at the entrance ceremony, but he is a genius setter, his goal was to come to this school to join you, so I just assumed he’d be here.”

A genius setter? This spiked Ushi’s curiosity, not like his team needed any more setters but that would be interesting. So he approached you, the entire team dropping what they were doing just to stare at their captain who never seems interested in anything but practice, “I didn’t hear anything about anyone else joining the team, but you are welcome to sit over there by the towels and wait, maybe he is just running late.” with a short nod, he pointed towards the bench he was referring to, “Thanks. I appreciate you not making fun of me like the rest, I kindda see why you have so many fans.” you smiled up at him before going to sit on the bench quietly as instructed.

To him, it wasn’t big deal. He was interested in this new setter you were talking about, and he was sure you weren’t creeping on him, you didn’t even know he was actually there to begin with, so he didn’t think anything about it. His team though could even write conspiracy theories about this very moment.

A girl was sitting inside of the gym, without being one of their managers. And she was there by captains’ orders. The same captain that can’t distinguish his mother from any other woman in the crowd. This day would go on history books.

Semi on the other hand was upset. Why was he giving you special treatment? They should just kick you out, it was clear to him you were nothing but a creep, but no one would dare to say anything to Ushijima, specially if a girl was involved, this had never happened before, they would never interfere for the worse.

A few balls reached your feet during their practice training, you happily returned them to their respective owner, handed some clean towels to those in need and Mr.clueless captain even gave you a bottle of water, since you were probably tired of waiting by the bench, causing gasps among his peers. The team was becoming quite fond of you in a very short amount of time, an unprecedented day to remember.

But Tobio never came. Did he change his mind? It’s not like he promised he would come to Shiratorizawa, but he was very sure of himself when he said he would. You were losing hope and your face was showing it by now.

It was time to go home and there were still no signs of him yet, seeing your crestfallen expression, Ushi called out one of his newest members, “Goshiki, do you know this Kageyama? Is he in your class?” his deep voice startled you back to reality, making you go up from the bench, staring at the youngster with sparkly eyes, “N-no, sir! I don’t think I’ve even seen his name registered with the rest of the first years.” so he didn’t come this year. You wondered what happened, you lost all your contacts when you desperately changed your number, so it’s not like you could ask him, but seemed like he really wasn’t coming.

With a long sigh, you grabbed your school bag and headed for the entrance, “I’m sorry for all the troubles I caused today, and I also thank you for your kindness.” the last part being directed straight to Ushijima’s eyes, “I’ll be going now!” you turned around and left for your dorm. Even without Kageyama you’d be just fine. You missed your friend, you wondered how he was doing, worried he would still be having a hard time with the fellow volleyball players. But you were fine, maybe one day you’d see him again.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Friday came around and everyone in the team noticed their captain glancing at the entrance every now and then. They knew what was going on even if he didn’t know what had him so restless.

Tendo who clearly knew what was bothering his teammate tried his luck, “Hey, Shirabu. Do you know if your class president was able to find her setter friend?” both Ushijima and Semi’s eyes were on the younger setter, making him uncomfortable. “We don’t really talk, so I wouldn’t know.” the air just got even more tense, Tendo regretting his decisions.

Ushi had failed three spikes in a row and the team was now more annoyed than anything else. “I’ll be right back.” being benched gave him a lot of free time, and he just knew what the problem was, he needed to do something or he wouldn’t be allowed in the court to practice today at this rate.

You joined the gardening club as the school was forcing second years to join any club of their interest, this being part of their school norm. Not like you had a strong passion for plants, but it was a relaxing way to spend your afternoons. There were only other three members in it, and they all had their own side projects. You decided to study seasonal plants, taking care of them all during the entire year to see how they looked like when they weren’t in bloom, right now you were taking care of some hyacinths, adding some nutrients to the soil when a familiar face spotted you crouching down by a large flowerbed.

“Come with me.” It’s all he said, holding your arm tighter that you would like. You were going to retaliate but decided against it, wondering what he could possibly want with you. Even with his death grip you could see some softness on the way he was looking at you, sadness possibly. “Are you ok?” he blinked at you wondering what could have caused such a random question, “Why do you care?” you hummed quietly, looking ahead, your eyes distant, “I don’t even know your name, but if you ever need to talk to someone, you know where to find me.” a small smile fully in display for him, making him fluster, “Yeah, playing with dirt.” his side comment made you laugh, the sad look on his eyes leaving momentarily.

He brought you into the gym with him, the rest of the team starring at your disheveled self. Dirt was covering your P.E uniform, a small shovel in one of your hands. Nobody dared to say anything at all.

“Alright she’s here now. Happy?” letting go of your arm, Semi goes to pick up some of the discarded balls laying around, making himself useful. “Um, hi guys.” your nervous little laugh and wave felt like someone had kicked Ushijima on his balls. His chest tightened in an awkward way and he got to the conclusion that he probably jumped too high and pulled a muscle, that had to be it.

“So, class president. Seems like our team here is very interested in your personal life. They wanted to know if you found your friend the other day.” you didn’t really like Shirabu, his snob comments always annoyed the hell out of you in class, his sourness becoming infectious. “My name is (Y/N), not class president. Not sure why you need to know this, but no, seems like he went to another school.” having all these men staring at you was making you feel anxious, you brushed hair out of your face with your dirty hands, forgetting what you were doing just a few minutes ago with them.

Some unknown force was controlling Ushijima’s body. He doesn’t know why, or how, but he was now standing in front of you, wiping some dirt out of your cheek with his thumb. The rest of the team now blurring in the background. What was that?

Semi, was even more annoyed than usual, was that what was going on here? He suddenly hated himself for being so self-indulgent, if he would have known this is what it was about he wouldn’t have gone to get you, even if that meant loosing practice for a day. It was strange how he despised you the day he met you but with just one sentence you managed to go through his steel barrier easily.

“Alright, your questions were answered. If you excuse us, I gotta return the little gardening mouse to her club.” ignoring Ushijima’s piercing gaze, he grabbed your wrist, a lot gentler this time, pulling you along. You waved at the rest of the team with your shovel, smiling on Ushijima’s direction. The sandwich he had for lunch suddenly wanting to come out, was he sick? Was that why he’s been so off? Not like some random bug would stop him from practicing though. He didn’t miss again during the entire practice, but he could swear he was definitely sick and would have to stop by the pharmacy on his way home.

“What was that about?” you asked Semi, who was letting go of your wrist now but still walking with you, “Don’t know. I guess they all liked you. Our managers don’t really interact much with us, so they were probably missing your attention.” he nodded fully aware that all they wanted was to help their captain understand what being a teenager felt like, this piece of information was definitely not necessary for your survival so he decided to keep it to himself.

“So…what’s your name?” you tilted your head while looking at him, holding both of your hands behind your back. “Semi Eita. Third year. Former setter of the team, now I’m more like a pinch server.” you hummed in acknowledgement, carefully looking how his expression turned darker at the last remark. “(L/N Y/N), second year, president of my class and member of the gardening club.” you poked his belly with your tiny shovel hoping to sway his mood just a bit. “More like a gardening mouse, if you ask me.” giggling, you stopped walking, your flower bed now just a few steps away. “Just so you know, I saw you practice the other day, I think you’re better than Shirabu, he stinks.” you gagged playfully, waving him goodbye.

Was he that obvious? How did you notice that’s what has been bothering him?

He went back to the gym, the ghost of a small smile gracing his face. Even if he wasn’t needed for practice every day, he always attended, always stayed late, he missed the days he was the main setter, when he still felt like an important part of the team, when he felt wanted. But he was almost an adult now, he had to move on, not like he wanted to continue playing after school anyways.

It felt good though, hearing someone say that about him, even if it was just to cheer him up.

When he got back the entire team ganged on him, Tendo on his face screaming within seconds, “WHY, just WHY would you take her away when Ushi was looking so dreamily at her? Have you ever seen that face on him before?” Semi just shrugged them off, grabbing a ball and heading to the nearest wall to practice on his own, “Not like that's my problem. I took her away from her club activities, had to give her back.” he knew he was being selfish, childish even, without a good reason, but he also had the right to do so. He also had the right to be looked at, even when a brighter star was shining way too close.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

“So how are the flowers coming along?” he was crouching beside you, it was lunch time and he saw you were tending the plants instead of eating, he's been doing that for the last couple of months, just finding you in random places and spending some unannounced time with you, “Well, you see this little stem right here?” he was leaning in closer, definitely in your personal space right now, “This means its alive! They will come out pretty soon. Last week it was way tinier.” you smiled proudly, scratching your nose and leaving a trail of dirt on it. “You seriously gotta stop touching your face when your hands are this dirty, (Y/N).” he took his handkerchief out, gently wiping the dirt away. Your smile just grew turning sheepish, cheeks rosy, kissed by the sun. His heart was beating louder today, he noticed it would do the same every time you’d talk to him. “I know, I know! Maybe I just like it when you clean my face.” you poked out your tongue playfully at him, patting your uniform clean as you got up.

“You look a little less constipated lately. What are you not telling me?” you teased him while packing your gardening tools in the nearby shed. “Nothing, really. I wasn’t constipated to begin with, if I may add.” chuckling you made your way to a secluded area under the shadow of a big tree, your favorite place on the school grounds and he sat down with you on the soft grass, bringing the sandwich he got from the cafeteria out, looking at your neat bento box, full of delicious looking goods. “Do you make your own lunch? Looks like something you’d buy from a fancy shop.” he made you laugh once more, it happens a lot lately, felt weird at first, but you’re getting used to it again, the burn on your cheeks, the flutter of your tummy, you thought you would never feel like this again. “I make it, yeah. I live here, in the school dorms. Can’t really go out…” that distant look in your eyes have been hunting him for a while now, he wanted to know what was making you look this sad and lost “Why’s that?” you didn’t want to answer his question, so you grabbed some omelet with your tiny fork and pushed it in his mouth, trying to distract him. And it did. To anyone walking by you both looked like any lovey-dovey couple, feeding each other and laughing in a secluded area where eyes don’t pry often. “Ok, so this is delicious, but you won’t get away so easily. Why can’t you go out, (Y/N)?” the serious look on his face made you feel guilty, you wanted him to open up to you, so it was only fair that you did the same. “I…my ex, he….” looking down, you lost your words, speaking of him was somewhat a taboo for you. “Hey, look at me.” he lifted your chin gently, a frown now visible on his face, “Did he hurt you?” you nodded just a bit, your eyes not wanting to meet his.

His blood was boiling, he really didn’t understand violent men. He was angry all the time too, but not because of that he went out and about hitting women.

“He….just wouldn’t leave me alone even after breaking up with him. Always calling me and texting me nasty things. So instead of going to Seijoh, where he is, I came here. You can say it. I know I’m running away, but I just couldn’t bare it anymore…” he felt a drop running down the hand that was holding your small delicate face. “That’s not running away, (Y/N). Safety comes first. But I won’t let that bastard hurt you again. If you ever feel like you would like to go out of the school one day you can tell me, I’ll go with you. We can start small, maybe go to the café around the corner?” you couldn’t stop your own tears, you didn’t want to go out of the school, you were honestly still terrified, wouldn’t even venture near the entrance, full of irrational fear, but his invitation made your heart feel so full. He was trying his best to liberate you from the chains that you put yourself in.

Without thinking much, you hugged him from the side, burring your crying face on one of his pecs. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he let you cry. No words were needed, he would give you all the time in the world, even he had to miss a class or two. You looked so happy all the time, so full of life, he never expected you to have such a troublesome past at such a young age. He could relate to the fear and anxiety that you felt, even if his reasons were completely different, he felt like he could understand what you were going through, and he knew how awful all of that felt.

Once you stopped crying, he stuffed his sandwich on your face, startling you. “Not as good as your omelet, but you gotta eat something before next class starts.” biting a corner of his sandwich, you brushed your tears away, gifting him an adoring smile, “Only if you eat some of it too.”

The two of you finished both the sandwich and your lunch, sitting under the shade, talking about random nonsense while skipping class, his chest becoming your favorite place for the rest of the day.

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Tagged babes: @dazaisfavgf, @lauraagrace

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[longbobmckenzie]

S6 Volume VIII Thoughts

Remind me why I was looking forward to Casa Amor? I'd almost rather be stuck in a villa for 4 days with Felix... almost. At least then I'd get to spend time with the person I like best and not have to deal with sister drama and all that shit.

The note. I said this once before, but... "Thanks for being you"?? Like I almost do hope it's from Elliot and not Roberto because that's so generic, like something a teacher or boss would say to you. Not a LOVE INTEREST. It sounds more like someone saying "We had a nice fling, can't wait to see you on the outside, but only as friends. Byeee gonna crack on with these new girls"

And then Grace saying she knows who sent it only to then say it's just a theory. Like, you cliffhangered the episode on that only to say "Well this is what I think..." Girl you had your chance to tell me in the bedroom that you thought it was from Elliot. And guess what. I don't give a damn about Elliot, and you should know that if you'd LISTENED TO A SINGLE FUCKING WORD I'VE EVER SAID. JUST LIKE YOU NEVER LISTENED ABOUT OZZY.

Excuse me, wow. Got heated for a moment there

Raunchy races... what?? What are these instructions? "Sportiest girl"? "Hottest girl"? "Horniest boy/girl"?? THAT'S NOT HOW THESE ARE SUPPOSED TO WORK!!! No wonder the Villa won if we had to go through everyone figuring out who fit the description! This was a bad way to start the volume

Amelia going for Marshall, once again, pisses me off. And it pisses me off even more because a) he's the hottest one there and after stringing us along with Ozzy, I was ready to give it all up for Marshall instead as a fuck you (well, not really - I still want Roberto. but I was gonna replay for him). b) WE GOT A DATE WITH HIM WHEN WE FIRST WENT INTO CASA!! WE GOT TO SHARE A BED! AND KISS HIM! AND THEN GO ON ANOTHER DATE! And then you hit us with "I like Amelia better"?!?! Bro.

I mean, I didn't even like Marshall anymore after his personality fell flatter than a pancake, but the moment Amelia showed interest in him, I was like, BACK OFF I WANT HIM. I just wanted to keep her from getting him. Now I can't even do that! But if they were gonna be hard-coded, why tease us with him at all?

And please, stop with the "talk to everyone about x thing" when we could just... talk to those people. And we all know Amelia would've told us anyway. But then them coming to us to "announce" that they're coupling up? Like... no. Amelia can come to me and tell me you kissed and that she wants to pick him. Marshall can come to me and tell me he's sorry but he prefers Amelia. Don't come to me together and make a big thing out of it like that so that everybody else sees and sticks their noses in it

I didn't toast them. Hamish said "Popcorn. Lol." For a moment, I liked Hamish

Speaking of Hamish, whyyy did they have to make him so icky??? Like, he could have just been a funny young boy that wasn't interested in us romantically, but nooo. And then Grace kissing him only to get the ick, only to admit she lied about Ozzy and might bring Hamish back?? Have some fucking self-respect, woman!

I got to fuck Andy at least. He's a sweet boy. If it weren't for me being upset about Marshall, I'd be happy to romance him. But I don't like that it's just him by default (because Francis... no)

Okay so Amelia almost drank during NHIE for the 'dated a celeb' question (again with the celeb obsession), looking awkwardly at MC. She also said she lied in the villa, but said it was about meeting Elliot before. But there's definitely more to the Zeph stuff, she's gotta be lying about how far they went. She's a snake.

I think that's everything? Whew, I need to calm down. I've been refreshing the app store hoping Romance Club would update a day early like they usually do, I need it!!

[immunologies]

look at my land developer dawg i’m going to jail 😫

lmao hiiii everyone! i’m anwar (not hadid) + always writing for underused model fcs but anywhooo — thank god for reopening bc i was supposed to app during the first launch but i was on vacation so my activity would’ve flopped real bad BUT… I’M HERE NOW… a lil jet lagged still but fuck it we ball :’) i present to you: iida!

navigate: general info / about / pinterest

sparknotes!

tw / suicide

okawara yosuke, 33 (proud twink death survivor btw he left that long haired era behind in his mid 20s), born and raised in fukuoka prefecture so you know he’s a bearer of the masculinized stereotype that kyushu men have but surprisingly his ego isn’t as fragile as i would expect it to be — i wonder why?

lower middle class to middle class financial status for the entirety of his childhood / it’s one of those things where as a kid you’re like “well, this is it” because you’re not fully aware that your family doesn’t have money on top of being surrounded by other kids who, in return, also come from families without bands so it is what it is / it can’t be that bad when your necessities have always been met

tbh there’s not much to write home about in terms of his childhood as in it was fortunately(?) uneventful for the most part despite starting off rocky: his mom was barely twenty when she birthed him, two freshly married young adults rushed into the hard-bitten chaos of childrearing, do they resent bro in absence of trying to enjoy the beginnings of their married life? probably, but it doesn’t matter by the time his younger brother is born, soo la voo or whatever the french be saying (tiktok reference btw if ur uncool)

yosuke is your average kyushu boy growing up: he spends his time outside rather than inside with his head in the books (it’s the same shit his teachers would always say about his lack of potential, ie: he’s lazy), has boyish fights with his younger and complete opposite of a younger brother, tries his best not to piss off his stay-at-home mom and stay away from his chronically emotionally constipated aviation mechanic drunk for a dad, you get the idea

…UNTIL the voices started to become apparent more than ever and he tells his mother who dismisses it but is reminded of her grandfather who unalived himself from alleged schizophrenia but nobody in her family knows if he ever got tested for it (y’know, if it was a genetic hereditary thing) or if it was just the aftermath of unresolved trauma/ptsd because grandpa fought in the war (you know which war) NOBODY KNOWS A GODDAMN THING. except yosuke as a child hated going to see his relatives in the far village/countryside on his mom’s hick side

lmao but when yosuke told his mom “yeah girly pop dad’s gonna have a shitty liver if he doesn’t stop drinking so much in the next couple years or so” is when she drops his ass off at a mental health facility so she definitely prioritizes her man over a kid that she wasted her 20s raising! (she’s definitely an unevolved libra no shade to yall sorry) but anywho! he’s diagnosed at 17, life is looking brighter(?), but his “schizophrenia” isn’t something talked about much at home because let’s be serious. it’s fucking abe shinzo’s japan at the time, we do not talk about shit like this

yosuke goes on to carry two jobs after high school because his parents didn’t save a college tuition fund for his lazy, non-academically inclined ass so it’s up to him to be the architect of his future / he’s psyched about entering the aviation department of kyoto university after working his ass off by trying to build a humble living but somebody’s bored and filthy rich daughter from a zainichi korean family comes into his life and what does he do? say goodbye to the ol’ pilot dream and traps this woman so he won’t ever have to worry about money like his family did

mind you he actually had love for the old girl! but he’s a gemini and gemini men get bored when you’re not their outstanding type or half as witty or clever as he may be. he knows that he’s settling for what poor lee jiyoung can do for him so after dating in college, yosuke goes on to marry the woman but never goes on to tell her about his “schizophrenia” because he’s scared that it’ll ruin his marriage (spoiler alert: it did)

so uh *scratches head and turns the page* they end up divorcing because his condition worsened as a result of his body becoming “immune” to the medications because he never had schizophrenia in the first place (ie: iida canon) — and he tried saving the relationship for the sake of his position at tk group, he really did, but at the end of the day he’s just some penniless, opportunistic man who failed to completely use up his wife’s beneficiaries. but again, he’s a gemini man who’s good at playing the part of using his “mental health” as a crutch of their failed marriage instead of being exposed for taking advantage of his ex-wife financially

(trust me he’d rather be that Type of Shitty instead of portrayed as the Exploitative Type of Shitty because it gets some pity points on his end. believe the scheme!)

so now? okawara yosuke takes up the tk group’s little passion project proposal with goero because it’s a chance at redemption. he needs to prove one way or another that he’s worthy of his job, that he’s the right man for it, his undying loyalty to the corp (questionable :3), and he’s taken the more political and diplomatic approach of gravitating/winning the trust or appeal to goero’s inhabitants instead of the founding families ‘cause his coworker’s already doing that anyways — he understands his shortcomings as a foreigner (more so as a japanese guy telling yall what to do with the land so goero can prosper financially and commodity-speaking for trade.. and commerce..) so if he can strengthen his morale to the people even if it doesn’t mean the quota won’t be met — yosuke would prefer that for the sake of ethics. he will promise the residents of goero that much: business or not.

that is all. i think. :-) i’ll be yapping for specifics on discord if needed be

personality!

likes to think of himself as an ambivert over being written off as an extrovert which is kinda true? despite being a professional yapper with those he’s suuuuper comfortable with, he finds that people who don’t match or vibe with him tire him out very quickly / genuinely a very friendly person and is emotionally inhibited probably as a result of his career where logic/numbers/analytics are concerned so yosuke prefers to focus on reason over the “possibilities” … even tho he would like to be that optimistic / isn’t one to have an extreme temper, but can be prone to outbursts if incompetence is in question / really. really. hates the notion of being black-or-white on many matters as life usually puts him in the grey area so. u know. atm doesn’t have any ulterior motives because he doesn’t have it in him anymore to be evil or whatever. he ran out of plans. just trying do the right thing from here on out, so, let him help you! bro’s probably a lawful neutral man i know i’m sorry for being boring :/ c’est la vie

connections!

i prefer brainstorming over anything and i’m down for just about everything so hit me

[nerves-nebula]

I hope this isn't an unwelcome addition re: your vent about race, but it reminds me of my own experiences.

I didn't know I was latino until I was 13. Yeah there were *very* strong "hints", what with the whole "grandparents only speak spanish with limited english", "parents can speak spanish", "we're brown (except for my mum)", & "eat spanish food at grandparents". But like. I had never heard someone say what we actually were and I was afraid it'd be racist if I assumed we were latino if we might not be. For some reason.

Hah, I remember getting kinda mad at people who (rightly) criticized the "ambiguously brown" trope in media, because it was the experience I most related to. That's what *I* was. I wasn't anything specific, I was just ambiguosly brown for most of my life.

So like. I finally asked my dad what we were and he was essentially like "haha what are you stupid or something. We're LATINO obviously, what a silly question!"

So I just went "Oh okay." And pumped the brakes on our conversation. Quickly after I realised that that wasn't enough for me. "Latino" is a rather broad category, I wanted to know what *exactly* we were.

I felt kind of stupid after that though, and I didn't want to draw attention to how stupid I was by asking a follow up question (nor did I want to talk to my dad), so I just didn't until I was 16.

I got to thinking about it again, and I realised that El Salvador had been mentioned quite a few times in regards to ~parent lore~ (I truly did not know much about my parents. I literally didn't even remember my mum had an older brother. So I'd just try to piece together their stories whenever they ranted to us about like how our other parent had ruined their life or something. Bits and pieces they'd shared with us over the years).

So I texted my dad about it (who I was thankfully far away from by then. Funnily enough this was one of our last conversations before I cut contact with him), and he said we were salvadorians 👍. So yeah.

But like. I feel so disconnected to my culture. I don't even know what our culture IS. And despite now living in a place with many latinos, I feel like I still can't get into it. Firstly because it would involve me interacting with people. But secondly (and most importantly) because I feel like interacting with latinos would just reveal to them how unlatino I am. I can't speak spanish. I know nothing about us.

One thing about it is that I feel like I have to learn Spanish before I'm allowed to try to engage. But learning a whole language takes so much time. And I don't like doing it because it reminds me that I don't already know it! And I *should*!

Oh well. Not like I could've learned it when I was younger, or in that house with my dad. I don't know why they didn't raise us bilingually. But it's not like I could've learned it when I was young either, my dad makes fun of my mum for her spanish (she spoke exclusively Spanish when she was younger, but had to learn English when she moved to the US at 8. She lost a lot of her Spanish since then), which would make me way too nervous to practice spanish and be bad at it at first with him around (he somehow didn't think that would impact us? He ended up wanting us to learn spanish, so good luck with that when you act like *that*).

Also. I keep worrying that I look white. I've always been light skinned, but until 8th grade I thought it was obvious I wasn't white?? But maybe not so. It's not like I can ask people.

In 8th grade the teacher briefly left the room and left me in charge of it (I was seen as the most responsible/trustworthy), so I made a joke about me turning out to be a dictator, to which someone joked about that being racist, to which I said "It's not racist, 'cus I'm not white" (in a manner that I *hoped* conveyed that I was *joking*, and that the joke was that poc can still definitely be racist (I mean c'mon just be around my dad, you'll see)).

And he just stared deadpan at me. I thought he confused me for white, so I kept reiterating that I wasn't, and he just stared and stared at me the whole time.

I realised later that maybe he thought I was being serious, and that was why he wasn't smiling, or maybe he just didn't think the joke was funny.

But like. I couldn't know. "Later" was actually quite a *while* later, so at that point I was already out of school at home all day, under the pretense of "homeschooling" (there was never any schooling).

I don't even know why it matters if I look white. There are plenty of latinos I know of that could pass as white, who I never doubt are latino. Ugh. I don’t know. This is an issue that could be solved by interacting with more latinos. In fact, all of these issues could be solved by hanging out with more latinos. I gotta get over myself sometime and realise that there are PLENTY of latinos who are disconnected from their culture and who don’t know spanish so it's FINE interacting with fellow latinos is FINE there's no way I can fail some sort of latino authenticity test. Whatever. Problems and solutions for later.

because I feel like interacting with latinos would just reveal to them how unlatino I am. I can't speak spanish. I know nothing about us.

hahh. sameee

This is an issue that could be solved by interacting with more latinos.

also same... UNFORTUNATE!

i getcha tho. and i also get the whole "not knowing what we are until i'm a teen" thing. ive always thought it was weird that my mom and dad know a ton about their own family histories but never really made much effort to impress it into us. EH oh well.

[multigenderswag]

A Bisexual Bigendered Performance Piece

By Nadyalec

Trikone Magazine Vol. 14, No. 3: Gender Mischief (1999)

I am my father's son.

My father's father died when he was a baby. And his favorite sister, Nadya, died a few years later. He told me that at her funeral he lay on the floor and told everybody he was dead, too. But the adults just kept stepping around him. I keep thinking of him lying there on the floor looking up at the long legs of adults walking around him. He doesn't believe in God, has told me that he wishes he could, but faith has been missing in him since childhood.

He was sent off to boarding school, where he says the other boys were very tough. But they left him alone because his teachers respected his intelligence, and he learned to seem calm no matter how he was feeling.

His intelligence and his reserve kept him safe, and he learned never to show loneliness or weakness.

As a young man he came to this country to go to get his PH.D. in Economics in Texas. He was an ardent socialist, and he used to tell me stories about how members of his socialist group would be exiled for disagreements over a single word or a single point. It reminds me of my time in lesbian activism.

Because his English wasn't good yet, he says that sometimes he went throughbooks looking for sentences to cut out to put together papers. I think about that when￾ever I put together a zine.

I am my father's son. I have his reserve, his intelligence, his quickness in reading others' emotions. I have his respect and belief in words and ideas. But I am also vulnerable in the way that he could never afford to be. When I'm a boy, I'm a very delicate one.

I am my mother's daughter.

This weekend my mom helped me move again. She, my new housemate, my brother and I flung around furniture, roped my mattress, to the car, and basically built up some muscle strength. My mom's helped me with every move over the last couple years, and there've been lots of them. Not bad for a woman past 50.

Since I was a kid my mom has done all the heavy lifting at my parents' house, mowing the lawn and clipping the hedges while my dad was inside reading a book. I remember her grunts meant to rebuke him whenever she did something especially hard-this was the work that the men in her family had always done. But if my dad wouldn't do it, then she would, definitely, no matter how much it hurt. She had her uterus removed a couple of years ago. I never really got the whole story since I was away at college. Apparently her uterus collapsed years ago, from all the heavy lifting she does, and she just ignored the pain for years. I'm not sure what made her finally listen to the doctors and have it out.

I inherited that too. I hurt myself a lot, walk into doors, lift things I shouldn't, ignore pain. Learned not to take painkiller when I was growing up, and not to mention anything hurt unless it was killing me. The time my father met me in the emergency room after I was punched in the jaw, I wound up comforting and calming him while waiting for an x-ray. That's a particularly horrible thought to me now, me speaking words of comfort through grind￾ing, broken bones. I've tried to chill out since then. You can take macho too far.

Still, when one of my fag friends comes up to me, lifts me and swings me around in greeting, I'll be damned if I'm not going to do the same. I don't care if he is four times my size. I may be small and cute but I am a tough woman. I'm my mother's daughter, after all.

I am a woman.

It had been a long time since I had a girlfriend. I think of it like a desert, miles of hot sand with the occasional patch of green. That was me, wandering in my celibacy, with these rare and precious one time things. We had been flirting a lot, this whole do I like her, does she like me, what are we going to do about it thing. And I had been talking about how much I wanted to try pouring wax on somebody ever since that party when those women did it to me. She was interested, and it seemed like something sexy but safe we could do, cause both knew we weren't going to be lovers. So I'm coming home from band practice, taking these long easy curves on the Beltway, thinking about her naked on my bed. Got home and she and my housemate had melted the candle in a pot of boiling water, with much joking we made it into the bedroom. I kicked my housemate out while she was undressing because he was being too sarcastic.

She has a beautiful body. So many curves and roundnesses. Generous and lush. She lay on her back and let me pet her, run my fingers over her smooth skin. I was telling her how gorgeous she is, how glad I was to touch her.

I started out very gentle with the wax, pouring from high up so that it could cool on the way down, watching it flow onto her and smoothing it with my hands. It was warm, and so was she, and I got caught up in seeing how close I could get the candle to her skin before pouring, watching the way it ran and folded onto her body, the patterns that it made. I hadn't know how she'd like the pain, but she was making these sounds that told me she did, and I was awed by her strength and bravery, by how close she let me get to her clit.

Fucking is too intimate for a one-time thing. I get lonely afterwards. But I wanted to so bad, and so did she, and I couldn't stop myself. Her warmth and moisture on my fingers. Me pushing her open, that tight sweet place opening for me. Everything going hazy and sharp at the same time, and me just wanting it to go on forever, listening to every word, every sound, and wanting it never to stop.

Afterwards I lay on top of my housemate, holding him down with my body while she hit him with my riding crop. And we got dressed, and went to this bar, and I got sad because she's not my girlfriend and never will be.

Next time I melted that candle I dis￾covered how well wax bolds scent: it smelled exactly like her.

l am a boy.

… I didn't think he would ever letme touch him because I know that he's straight. I don't understand why he hangs out with me, why he keeps letting me tag along, going to movies with him and his roommates. It's hard to talk when he's in the room.

This one night, after the movie, all his roommates gradually crashed, leaving me more and more alone with him. I was afraid he'd hear my breathing change, hear my heart. Finally he told me to come upstairs with him and he showed me some pictures of his family in Puerto Rico, told me stories about them. I didn't sit too close but he put his hand on my leg. I kept looking between the pictures and his jeans, the seams and creases. I knew it was dangerous, but I couldn't stop looking.

"Go on," he said quietly, when he caught me looking. I turned bright red and looked away. Couldn't think of anything to say.

He put his hand on the back of my neck. Left it there for a long time, then started pressing down. I put my head against his jeans and just lay there, getting warmer and warmer.

The whole time I was sucking him I just kept thinking, I can't believe it, I can't believe he's letting me do this. Velvet and hard and salty and sweet and I always thought he was straight. Same way I feel now, y'know?

This is so beautiful I want it to last forever, and at any second I'm afraid that I'll have to stop.

[eye-of-yelough]

🍋🍪🍫!!

eeeeeeee thank!! doing this out of order cos the worst memory definitely had to be put under a readmore 😬

🍪 - what is something sentimental to your oc?

saved this one for last and i still don’t really know. i don’t think he’s very materially sentimental though. i think when he peels the face bandages away after Gortash gives him the lip/neck scars it’s like. in tv shows when they get makeovers and look into the mirror and cry because they’re so beautiful lmao. truly an insane response. but the Orin lobotomy happens really not very long after that so he doesn’t get the chance to enjoy it for long.

OH. the spiders lyre that Minthara gives him. when i mentioned everything reminds me of her by elliott smith was an aerynthara song the part i forgot to mention was that i imagine him playing it on the spiders lyre 🥹 i don’t think this Literally happens but it’s a cute image. i think he does try to teach himself how to play it but he sucks so bad and his singing would make your ears and eyes bleed.

🍫 - where does your oc go to think?

do people actually have “thinking spots”? i feel like that’s not really a thing. (<- guy who never leaves his room) anyway i don’t think he has a thinking spot but his “stop thinking” spot is basically any body of water. amphibious little fucker. maybe he wouldn’t be so weird if someone took him on a swimming date.

horrible horrible shit under the cut i’ve talked about this a little bit before in the tags of a post a few days ago, but this is in more detail. mentions of rape, both physical and psychological is the only way i can think to explain it. it’s bad. and csa.

🍋 - what is your oc’s most painful memory?

it isn’t one specific occasion, more a chain of events that gets worse and worse. i don’t know how to say this gently so i’m just gonna be super matter-of-fact about it. Aeryn got groomed and eventually sexually assaulted by his private piano tutor as a kid. (the fact that gort plays piano. ick) emphasis on the “groomed” part cos when his foster parents found out and they tried to have the bastard arrested he killed them to protect him. i don’t know exactly what happens between that and him getting adopted by Zhander the warlock mentor, but he doesn’t see the bastard who did that to him again. at least uhh. not for a while. Zhander isn’t too bad of a guy and doesn’t mistreat Aeryn, but their criminal lifestyle exposes him (young) to some more people who do over the years. Aeryn coming into his bhaalspawn legacy makes him increasingly difficult for Zhander to handle, especially seeing how Aeryn is using the same language he uses to justify his grey morality to justify brutal murder. he becomes terrified of him.

ok why is this just becoming aeryn’s backstory. yknow what i’ve started now i’m just gonna keep going cos i’m on a roll

Zhander eventually can’t handle the monster he created anymore and sells him to. some kind of Entity. idk Great Old One, it’s weird. this part’s a little a fuzzy if you couldn’t tell lol. anyway The Entity eventually becomes Aeryn’s patron after uhm. some amount of time? lots of horrors experienced in that time i’ll tell ya that much. Aeryn joins the Bhaalist cult at 21, only 4 years before meeting Gort.

to get it back on track to Aeryn’s Worst Memory, at some point he tells Gort about the piano teacher when they were playing their weird “Gortash as Aeryn’s therapist trying to cure his sex addiction” game. a mistake. first off Gort is super fucking creepy about it. but the real horror is a few weeks later when Gort leads him blindfolded into his basement (normal bestie activities) and uhm. locks him in a room with his former piano teacher. (big windows of course) and has no plans on letting him out until he gets his revenge. and i’m not talking about killing him. “takes back his dignity” as Gortash calls it, while forcing him to do the worst thing you could do to another person. and he eventually does do it, to be clear. strangles him to death while he does it and cries until he loses his voice, but he does it. Gortash makes him say “thank you” after wrestling him into accepting being cradled and told how good of a job he did. 😬

oh and Gortash makes sure to adequately break the guy beforehand to make sure it is rape.

and for context on why Gortash does this, because there is a reason: it’s pretty soon after he has the “Aeryn is my literal heart” realisation, but before he realises that his heart is an asset, not a burden. in that period of time, he does a lot of the worst stuff he ever does to Aeryn, including this, in an effect to kill his empathy. his heart. he doesn’t succeed, he never could, but he definitely fucks him up scary style.

so um. yeah. sorry

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

~somewhat angsty NY headcanons because I love to torture him (purely out of love)~

=======================================================================

-if he gets pinned down in a fight, there is chance that he will panic, cuz it reminds him of how Britain used to pin or restrain him before beating the he// out of him.

The first time anybody found out was in a sparring match that York got into with Texas. Texas had York pinned on the ground with his arms above his head and his knee on the smaller’s chest, not knowing that York was starting to panic and have flashbacks to Britain beating the crap out of him. So ofc when York started sounding more and more desperate and panicked every time he told Texas to get tf off of him, it left the Lone Star State a bit confused. When he got off, York immediately curled up in a ball and had a pretty bad panic attack, but was on calmed down by his brothers. He also made sure to reassure Texas that he did nothing wrong.

-sometimes when York needs alone time, he will teleport to NYC and just sit at the top of a tall building and cry alone whilst listening to music, drinking whatever liquor he brought with him, and staring off into the distance

-he has some SA-related trauma from his ex-bf. His ex did some non-consensual…..things to him, and always yelled at York and hit him for the stupidest and smallest things. So umm….. of course he ain’t around anymore :)

-one of the scars he has is from a type of blade that was not for him, and that was for more magical beings like Mass and Loui. After he got stabbed, there was a lot of black stuff surrounding the wound and black bile mixed with blood coming out of his mouth. He was definitely not having a good time. So he now has a weird-wonky star-shaped looking scar on his upper stomach (and like the 9/11 scar, he also pretty insecure about it).

-he has frequent absence seizures and that often results in him not listening to another person during a conversation and them having to repeat whatever they said.

-I have now decided that he has an autism assistance dog named Nico that helps him when he’s getting too worked up and/or overstimulated, and a mobility assistance dog named Kodi that helps him with his slight balance issues. Both dogs do their jobs well, and York loves them both a lot.

-because of the pollution in his state that is traveling from the Canadian wildfires into his state, and because of the pollution that was already there, he chokes on his own air a lot, and sometimes it gets so bad that he coughs up blood

-kinda related to the hc above, York has asthma, which makes the pollution situation 10x worse

-by the time the Civil War had happened, York had seen SO much war, at such a young age, that he seemed to have became immune to it in some sense. He would just kill enemies left and right without barely batting an eye and with barely any emotion on his face, and it honestly scared the sh*t out of some of the other states and enemies.

-Soooo…..I found out that Melanie Martinez was born in New York, so I’ve now decided that he listens to her music and kinda relates to some of it (not really sad, but I just wanted to put that out there)

-school was incredibly stressful for him, despite him being really smart. It was mainly cuz’ the people he went to school with, and some of the teachers he had, were absolute *$$holes

-whenever he’s really going through it, he will push others away and completely reject any help that was offered

-because of the abuse and war he went through, he somehow gained the mindset that if he gets hurt, even if it is incredibly serious and painful, he should just get tf up and continue doing what he was doing, no matter what. This man could be spontaneously bleeding out and have a broken arm, and would still try to get up and do stuff

-he has 100% fell through ice into freezing cold water, gotten himself out, and continue doing whatever he doing even though there’s the chance that he was hurt and had possible hypothermia, and he has definitely passed the f*ck out whilst telling Mass or whoever that he was fine and didn’t need medical attention.

[martianbugsbunny]

Baby While You're At It (A Cherik Fic)

Well my dears I am now laughing at my past self and calling them a bloody fool bc they swore up and down they were not going to get involved with writing Cherik, not with so many other ships/fics already languishing in WIP hell, but it's happened. I've written my first Cherik fic and I'm no longer annoyed at the idea that it might not be my last.

I was listening to a Jessie Murph song and I was like "Hm, this kinda gives Cherik" and I picked the bits I thought were the most Cherik and used those as inspiration for the fic. Definitely favored loyalty to the characters over the song, don't worry! I would recommend giving it a listen because I absotutely-lutely love it, but first I would recommend reading the fic because it turned out splendid and I adore it. Read on and enjoy!

Two weeks, was that all it had been? Charles stared at the calendar, wishing it would tell him it was all a mistake and they were launching for Cuba tomorrow; that he had dreamed up everything that had happened since then—but he knew each one of those fourteen days really had passed because he had counted each of them. Day One without Erik. Day Two without Erik. Day Five. Day Nine.

Day Fourteen.

He felt as though he had aged ten years in that short span of time. Beneath his eyes were dark, bruise-colored circles, as though his body was beating him up for how little he slept.

How could he sleep, when every time he closed his eyes he was back on the beach? He could feel the grit of the sand beneath his head as he fell, then the stiff material of…gloves, as he was lifted halfway up and cradled within the confines of strong arms. The scent of the salt air; the taste of fear; the compressing of his lungs as he realized who was responsible for the pain in his spine and the even worse lurching of his heart as he realized that same person was going to cause him worse pain yet.

Charles exhaled, his breath still shaking as though he were lying in agony on the sand, and went to join Hank in the kitchen for breakfast.

Hank, a strong contrast to Charles’ often dark mood, seemed happier than usual. He handed Charles the carton of orange juice and slid a small vial across the table with it. “I’ve developed a sort of antiserum,” he said. “To the one I made from Mystique’s DNA. It allows me to control my mutation.”

Oh, yes. That was the other difference: Hank was also a lot less blue than usual. “It’s a very interesting formula, I thought you might want to know,” Hank said.

Charles picked up the glass tube and shook it idly. The fluid inside looked unremarkable, but if it could manipulate Hank’s genetic code, interesting was an understatement.

Hank glanced at him warily, then set down his spoon and folded his hands. “I’m supposed to remind you we’re having a sort of welcoming party for the soon-to-be teachers? Tonight?”

Charles leaned back in his chair, sighing. He liked a lot of the people who had signed on to help with the school, but the ghost of…the past was following him around so closely he barely had room for his own shadow, much less a houseful of guests.

But he wasn’t going to cancel. Hank deserved to have time with his friends, and Charles could always disappear and leave them to their fun if he needed to. “We’ve got enough food?”

“Plenty.”

“Alright then, just—make sure nobody breaks anything.” He had seen what it was like when young mutants got together before, and he didn’t particularly want his house to end up like their former CIA facility had.

Charles managed to get through the rest of the day without too much trouble; he didn’t retreat to his study for booze as he often found himself doing, and he went outside for a while to get some fresh air. Maybe having friends around wasn’t such a bad idea, after all. Maybe they could push those ghosts away.

Alex Summers was the first to show up; he brought with him a smile that lit up the corners of the house. He had changed a lot since Charles had first recruited him, going from definitively bitter to being brilliant and full of life.

Charles shook the thought away that he had had a nearly opposite transition.

Another half hour later the future teachers had all arrived. Charles noticed the way Alex’s bright smile changed into something infinitely softer when Sean Cassidy arrived, and felt a brief stab of that horrible bitterness when Sean went to greet Alex first, their embrace a lingering one that left the entire room giving each other knowing glances.

Charles was just about fed up already and he hadn’t even said hello to everyone yet. He cast a pleading look at Hank: How much longer do I have to stay? It was, after all, his school, his idea, that had gathered all of these people together, and detached as he felt from the rest of them he didn’t want to make enemies of them.

Hank crossed the room and sat down on the sofa, next to which Charles had parked his wheelchair. “Fifteen minutes,” he said quietly, squeezing Charles’ hand. He understood, to the extent that anyone could, because he had spent the intervening weeks between Cuba and now at Charles’ side.

“Fifteen and I’m out,” Charles answered tersely. Hank gave him a sympathetic smile and then went back across the room to get something to eat.

Fourteen minutes later the front door opened again, eerily silent, and the room went still. Alex moved to stand more-or-less in front of Sean, who gripped his wrist reassuringly.

Charles bit back a curse when Erik Lehnsherr walked through the door. It closed behind him, swinging noiselessly on its metal hinges. Erik’s eyes lighted on Charles instantly, and an emotion started filling Charles’ chest that felt like the sting of bile in the throat. “What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, his voice clipped.

“I came to see you.” Erik glanced around the room—it was definitely hostile. Hank had reverted into his blue form. “Perhaps we could move to somewhere less public?”

“You’ll shoot me in the back in front of these people but you won’t speak to me while they’re present?” Charles could hear the hysteria bubbling up in his voice and felt powerless to stop it. Every beat of his heart as it limped on screamed Erik—Erik—Erik and yet he was furious with the man. Furious at being wounded, furious at being left, furious most of all that Erik’s heart was probably pounding stronger than ever without Charles chasing two steps behind. He had some nerve to show up uninvited with that handsome half-smile so typical of him and just expect that Charles would chase after him again.

….Mostly because he was absolutely right. Charles would never be able to resist the pull of that grin; it drew him to Erik as magnetism drew metal to him, irresistibly and almost inevitably leading to disaster, even while Charles felt a blue-hot searing fury with himself for crumbling so easily.

“Fine,” he spat. “You all go on with your party. I will be back soon.”

He had longed to escape just moments ago and yet he dreaded the loss of backup as he led Erik into the kitchen, several hallways removed from the living room where the others were no doubt starting to whisper about why Magneto was here.

Charles stopped his chair next to the table, turning it to face Erik. “What do you want?” he asked.

Erik wasn’t foolish enough to sit down. Their conversation was far from being that casual. “I wanted to see you,” he said. “To—to make sure you were alright.”

“Oh, now you want me to be alright? Now? After everything you did to me?” There was that hysterical sound again. This time, Charles tried to bite it back—it and the tears that were building in his eyes.

“It was Moira’s fault,” Erik said. “Imagine being stupid enough to shoot at a man who can control metal.”

“You certainly had no problem controlling that bullet into my spine,” Charles said.

Erik stepped back as though Charles had physically slapped him in the face. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

It had been Erik’s strong, gentle, desperate arms that had cradled him after the accident, Charles reminded himself. It was an accident, after all, no matter how much Charles wanted to place blame on a single person and push that person away to alleviate his grief. Erik had caused him pain, but he had also held him, eyes devastated, hands straining with rage.

“And yet you always do,” Charles said. “I left that beach less than I was before. Not because of the injury, but because I had to leave without you.”

Erik said nothing, staring at Charles expressionlessly.

He couldn’t help laughing now, one hand going up to brush his hair roughly back from his face. “Why don’t you just rip my heart out of my chest while you’re at it? It would be easier to handle than knowing that it wasn’t love you felt for me. What was it, pity? Contempt?”

Finally Erik moved again, kneeling in front of Charles and covering one of Charles’ hands with his own. “I loved you then and I love you still,” he said, his voice hushed but more intense than Charles had heard him except in the heat of battle, or a fit of temper. “Why do you think I came all this way?”

Charles let the gathered tears fall, only for Erik to brush them away. “I regret little that I’ve done in my life,” Erik said. “It’s all been for a reason, a cause. But hurting you, no matter that it was an accident…that I do regret. Every night I hear your cries, see your tears, and it’s been eating at me.”

“No matter how bad you have it, I’ve got it worse,” Charles said, the break in his voice betraying his attempt at coldness. “You think the memories you left me with after that beach haven’t been gnawing on me like maggots on so much rotting meat?” There was more Charles wanted to say, but he stopped. “You’re not wearing your helmet,” he realized. He reached over and ran his fingers through Erik’s hair. It was longer already than it had been two weeks ago. “Why—?”

“I wasn’t sure you would believe me,” Erik said. “If I’d the worn the helmet, you would’ve said…”

“I would’ve said you were a liar,” Charles finished. “Because it’s easier to love a liar who’s laughing behind your back than to love someone who loves you back, if he’s hurt you.”

Erik nodded. This time, Charles caught the flicker of remorse in his eyes, deep-seated and powerful. “You know what, Erik? I don’t expect you stay with me. You’re too set in your convictions for that. But we’re done hurting each other—I want better than that for us.”

“Charles, I swore the moment I held you in my arms on that beach that I would never harm you again.” Erik’s eyes were as serious as they were only when he was talking about the mutant cause. It wasn’t about Erik’s intentions, though; Charles had meant it as a promise, as a forgiveness, as a bandage for the barbed-wire words he had already pushed into Erik’s heart.

“And no, I won’t stay, but I’m not leaving you,” Erik said. That, too, was a promise. An apology. “My heart and soul are with yours, wherever I go.”

True to his word, Erik didn’t stay. That night was all they had. This time, it was Charles who held Erik in his arms, Erik’s head pillowed on his chest, one hand curled around Erik’s jaw so Charles could feel the pulse in his neck. Erik slept, and peacefully; Charles didn’t.

There would be time for that later. He wouldn’t have Erik to have and to hold forever, and he didn’t want to waste a moment, but he didn’t begrudge Erik what he knew was one of few truly restful sleeps in his entire life.

Early the next morning, Charles sat on the porch, watching the dawn light up the sky in pale shades of lavender and pink over the still-dewy lawn. In the trees, birds were already singing, and a spider was busy in its web on a bush next to the railing.

It didn’t hurt so much to watch Erik go, his cape rippling like water behind him as he walked down the driveway, with the warmth of his kiss goodbye still lingering in Charles’ heart and on his cheek.

[godshivered]

Just saw your "Melissa has PTSD" idea and I am totally on board. If you're comfortable answering, do you think that would be more from her marriage or from the "shady" side to her family that sometimes gets hinted at in the show?

ty for asking!! ok so it very much depends on what we find out about melissa’s family and ex (i imagine the show will tell us more eventually). but in general:

i had a personal headcanon for a while that melissa has a tough relationship with her parents, mainly bc they are never mentioned as stepping up during the struggles with her nana’s health. but generally they never come up, which interests me. and if joe was a toxic ex and she stuck around with him despite that, that’s a telltale sign of an unstable attachment to parents. AND THEN i read a couple fics on ao3 which also headcanon melissa as having mother issues. most recently, “before it’s all too much” by Teyamarra has a good exploration of that dynamic.

obviously melissa’s family gets up to some… funny business, legally speaking. i don’t know what i think that is, exactly, or how much involves her. but i do think growing up in a family with so many secrets, knowing from a young age that people generally can’t be trusted, would give her some learned hypervigilance. depending on the ramifications she’s seen (if she’s had any family members hurt/jailed, if she herself has been arrested or hurt), this could be a root for complex PTSD.

(i do think it’s complex PTSD that melissa would have (short definition: PTSD due to continuous trauma, rather than a few extreme instances of trauma), which manifests very differently and would be interesting to discuss in a separate post.)

my other main thought is melissa’s ex, joe, mainly because the scene on the phone with him was the most striking instance of body language shifting. that relationship informs her beliefs about dating and marriage — it causes her to avoid dating, and particularly men in uniform (avoiding reminders of trauma, even at the cost of your own happiness or growth, is a PTSD symptom). she’s shown reacting anxiously when gary, the vending machine guy, shows interest in her and makes a minor faux pas with the dave & buster’s suggestion. she loses all confidence and literally runs from the scenario (turns out you have both fight AND flight, melissa). we see moments of her trying to predict and prepare for red flags — hypervigilance, trying to protect herself…

which suggests she feels vulnerable/scared in romantic relationships. which suggests her experience with joe was particularly influential and damaging. we know she also has wavering self-esteem and is very sensitive to hurtful words (read: any time someone calls her a bad teacher, or when barbara says “people like you”). so my personal headcanon is that joe was verbally aggressive. it’s also generally HCed in the fandom that joe cheated on her with nina, which is believable to me. i don’t know if there’s reason to think he was physically aggressive (she’s still very touchy and doesn’t seem to have a visible fear of men), so i think it was just verbal/emotional abuse/toxicity.

anyway, that’s way more than you asked for! but that’s my basic thinking on it. i’m open-minded about it this early in the show, and wanna know more about her background. especially her family, which seems complicated (yet she has a zillion photos of them around her house, so there’s love there!)

[miniimapp]

4*TOWN As Kids

Gen ;; Crack + Fluff (??) - Headcanons

Warnings ;; nah

Proofread + Edited ;; nooooo

Auth. Note ;; WELCOME TO DAY 14 OF THE 4TOWN CHRISTMAS COUNTDOWN !!

this idea was literally me trying to figure out wtf the pictures when i was younger were meant to be and then boom, 4*TOWN content babeeyyyyy

Enjoy !! <3

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Aaron T - The Weird Kid

You know those kids that just go up to anyone and start spitting some random or sometimes disturbing bs

Like,, kinda reminds me of the of the boy I sit next to in language study tbh

Mans will just start talking about the wirdest of things out of nowhere

Why tf are talking at me about thumbprint and how yours are superior ??

Why do you know that you can burn them off ??

Why have you researched how to organise a crime and get away with it ??

And why on earth are you telling me the details ??

You know,, that kinda stuff

Mans will just start talking, no brain to mouth filter needed

Not a single thought,, just a river of words

Mans was talking before he could even crawl

But he's also the type of kid to just get away with anything but he just has that charm yknow ??

Like,, he could be babbling away and being cheeky to a teacher and it's fine but if someone else even dares to breathe they're sent out

He's the class clown throughout his whole life

Nursery to graduation babeyyyy

Not book smart but street smart definitely

Common sense frrr

Most people wouldn't expect it because he always makes silly comments but T knows what he's talking about

I feel like he picked up an interest in music tech and producing when he was p young

Probably on some school music trip thay was only accepted to get more money out of parents but hey,, it provided T with his passion so..

He is the kid who shows you bugs out of nowhere

Yes he's very proud of them

He tried to keep a pet snail in his room once

That dream soon died in the form of a scolding lmao

Jesse - The Art Kid (obviously)

Never without a sketchbook or some form of paper

If his parents didn't put his art on the fridge he'd put it up himself, covering up all his grades and any other paper on there

Kinda cocky for a kid tbh

People told him often how talented he was and mans ran with it

Suddenly he's god's gift to the world

Golden child vibes tbh

People always asked him to draw them, you know, like how annoying people do

He would literally just ignore anyone who tried to interrupt his art time

Fair enough tbh, art time is art time for a reason,, not socialising time

Hhhhhh some people,, eh ??

Still though, mans did act p arrogantly about his skills

Somewhere along the way someone had to teach this kid the meaning on humility and confidence vs cockiness

So glad that it wasn't me tbh

You do not want a little grumpy Jesse on your hands

When I say fits of rage,, I mean fits of rage

I think Jesse, for the most part was a delight to be around, overly confident at times perhaps but fun either way

But if he was faced with any kind of conflict

Absolutely screamed his head off

I'm sorry but it's true

Also incredibly dramatic

Winning emmies by the age of 4

If he got any kind of sickness, whether it's a slight sniffle or a fever, he's gonna act like he's on the verge of death.

Seconds away from popping his clogs

He will make you feel bad if he doesn't get his way

Puppy eyes turn to daggers in milliseconds fr

He was definitely forced into classical music growing up and as he grew he explored other routes

He also calmed tf down as he grew too, thank all that is good

Mans cycled through many instruments and genres of music before landing on thinsg that stuck

Aaron Z - The Quiet Kid

Literally the stereotype of a quiet kid

He walked so all those quiet kid tiktoks could.. waddle ??

The funny thing is Z is not a quiet person at all really,, he just wasn't interested din any of their asses tbh

Tbh it normally amuses him when people always default to describing him as the quiet kid, or the shy kid, or the silent but deadly kid

Somehow people, at every school he went to, got the impression that he's a delinquent of sorts

That he'd fight anyone who dared to mess either him

Literally no sweetie,, he's just unnecessarily tall lmao

And also just doesn't care about you lmao

You know he does care about tho ??

His grandpappy !!

Being practically raised by him can do that to a kid

His most treasured possession is a harmonica his grandpappy got him with both of their initials engraved in it

Mans literally has a special case for it and everything

His grandpappy is the one who got him into music and all

Grandpappy used to be in a folk band back in the day, didn't you know ??

Z is so proud of his grandpappy, so happy to be related to him

Z wasn't particularly talkative when he was a kid,, he wasn't as quiet as people made him out to be but even around famy and friends he wasn't really loud

But he was, and continues to be, really expressive

In expressions, gestures

It's what makes him such a good dancer

And what makes dancing so fun for him

He can speak without words but instead with his body

Sometimes though, Z can get really passionate and talk for hours about something

Robaire - The True Golden Child

Is there anything little Ro can't do ?? Evidently not

The biggest teachers pet throughout his younger years istg

Probably got teased about it a little bit cause kids are cruel

But Ro literally aced every test he was ever given and it was hard to find an activity he struggled with

Basically a prodigy

I actually think that Robaire was a pretty shy kid though

Like,, people made him nervous and he had a bit of separation anxiety from his parents

Nursery was rough for all parties involved

Definitely a hard worker from day 1 but also a fair bit of a dreamer

Sometimes Ro's head would float up in the clouds and take ages to come back down

A-fucking-nother classically trained baby and he carried it on throughout his life

Mans has muscle memory with the same duration as an elephant

On that topic I feel like Ro has above average memory, maybe not photographic but definitely above average

He can remember practically every lyric he's ever learnt and every piano score he's learnt too

No one knows how he does it

You know the recorder lessons in nursery where you play hot cross buns or whatever tf

Ro somehow managed to make that cheap plastic shit sound good

Honestly astounding

Perfect pitch KING,, move out of the way charlie puth

His talent for it certainly helped but it wasn't the praise that made Ro decide music was his thing

It's the way he felt during his playing,, before he heard any praise about it..

Over the moon

Tae Young - The Cute Kid

Had everyone fooled from day one bro

Everyone's under the impression that he's an angel.. ha ha,, no

Not in any way, shape or form

It literally became a known thing that whenever he's get in trouble or introduced to someone new people would say

"Don't be fooled by his puppy eyes,, he's actually vicious underneath that expression.. "

No one ever heeds the warning until the damage is done

You were warned bro..

Grab a pair of listeners at the door and prepare to use them in the future

Tae was the trouble kid though, always doing things he shouldn't

And he'd always get away with it because of his adorable little face

By age 5 Tae had mastered the way of making any adult fold to his demands with just 1 look

A terrifying child to babysit,, can you imagine ??

I'd rather just be broke tbh

And that's coming from someone who has less than a fiver to their name lmao

Other kids his age would send Tae out as a back up plan to get teachers to derail from their lesson plan and watch above or something instead

Shit worked every fucking time

Pissed off every other class known to man

Another classically trained kiddo and he stuck with the violin

He just really enjoys it tbh

Maybe it's because he had a really good childhood teacher

That teacher instilled a passion in Tae bro

Talented teacher for that fr

Tae struggles with motivation tbh so habits are important,, especially those established when he was young

So yeah, that teacher was p incredible to Tae,, did something that Tae had never seen before lmao

[fidantemel]

BASICS »

Name: Fidan Aksel Temel

Nickname: Fi, Dani, Aks

Birthday & Age: April 14th, 1992 & 32

Hometown: Briar Ridge, SC

Length of time in Briar Ridge: Moved to Briar Ridge around age 1 and left at 18 for university in Texas, returned somewhere around 8 years ago

Neighborhood: Downtown

Occupation: Owner of Oblivion Designs & architect

Gender & Sexuality: Cis female & bisexual

DIGGING A LITTLE DEEPER »

trigger warnings: car accident mention, drug addiction, domestic violence mention, and suicide.

Even though Fidan was born in Izmir, Türkiye to Aydin and Sevda Temel, she remembers nothing of those origins. The only means she has for the history of her roots comes from the stories of her parents and older sister, Meliha. She has since visited Türkiye in her young adult years during a pilgrimage over east in the world.

Growing up in Briar Ridge was perfect for a creative child like Fidan. It was a place the girl’s imagination could flourish, especially with the nurturing and encouragement from her immigrant parents.

When Fidan was supposed to be focusing in school on her coursework, she was busy drawing buildings and furniture from visions and ideas in her head. On the weekends her mother would take her to the flea market and a few other shops with her and they would pick up relatively inexpensive pieces for Fidan to work with. Teachers easily picked up on her sketches and the detailed plans she would make in her notebooks, something they would couple with her strong scores in mathematics, and encouraged Fidan on a path to work in architecture and design.

When she was sixteen she would take a ride into the city and photograph buildings, to the point where she collected so many great shots around the city that she amateurly published a photo book showcasing the beauty and artistry that could be found where most didn’t give more than a passing glance to.

To Fidan's surprise the book sold out in the few stores that actually carried it.

By then she was in shop classes; woodworking and welding. She devoured any kind of art class she could get her hands on as well as any type of crafts class. It wasn’t that she had the bug for art or working with her hands, it really was something innate for her. Something her father would say she got from him.

University was really where she figured out exactly what she wanted to do with her life. Professionally, at least. When she'd been just fourteen her older sister Meliha had been in an awful accident that resulted in some brain trauma. In the immediate recovery and with significant memory loss, no good answers from doctors, while she left Post-Its of reminders around Meliha's hospital room, Fidan contemplated a future in neurology. She wanted to help. Seeing her sister's pain and suffering twisted her heart but as Meliha began to make some recovery, the artist in her couldn't resist a change from pre-med to architecture. The bachelor degree hung proudly in her office was earned from Rice University, one of the top architecture schools in the country.

By the time of graduation she had already launched her own furniture business, custom designs and perfectly crafted, the business was titled Oblivion Designs. When she popped onto the scene, taking on an offer from a prestigious firm in the nearest big city, she made quite the notable reputation in the industry.

Gone away from home for the first time, living in Houston for university, had been life changing in good and bad ways. Aside from her academic success, Fidan met a young man and fell too hard for one of the university's top sports stars. The first two years of their relationship had been a dream, something that belonged in a sweet Hallmark movie someday, but that definitely hadn't been the way that it ended.

An injury changed everything for an athlete whose whole life surrounded a sport he might no longer be able to play. Narcotic pain medications had become an addiction and when in need for a fix he'd become a monster. Any physical abuse had been rare and minor, at least that's how Fidan chose to see it, a push/shove here or there was manageable. Only, as pain medication morphed into a heroin and cocaine addiction, the violence also shifted and got worse. That's when Fidan got out, knew things were done and he needed help beyond the support she'd tried to offer. Overdoses and failed attempts at rehab were not how she wanted to finish off her experience at university. The finality of their breakup destroyed him and one day he'd shown up at her place with a gun.

Being a witness to someone she love's deterioration, resulting in them taking their own life, had turned hers upside down. When Fidan returned home to Briar Ridge she was different. Like something dark and heavy had clung to her. Too thin, withdrawn, and despondent the only thing that helped had been the love of her family and once a week therapy. Eventually she'd been able to put on a mask and act as though everything were fine as she began conquering a career.

Shortly after settling in at the firm in the big city, Fidan began making customs once again. The firm was giving her experience and exposure while she grew her own business on the side, and as time moved on Fidan found herself moving away from the company and more into her own clientele that she’d managed to garner.

WANTED CONNECTIONS »

I’m pretty open here! With Fidan having mostly grown up in Briar Ridge I would love childhood friends, high school friends, and neighbors. Neighbors in childhood and neighbors following her return from university. If your character was in Texas at any point I would love uni friends or people she met/known from that time. Someone that might have known her late ex. Always appreciate new friends, clients, customers, and yoga/workout buddies. Exes, former flings, bad or good dates turned friends. I’m happy to plot anything beyond!

[hellhound5925]

Cyare Verd *Beloved Warrior*

Chapter Three

When I entered the mess hall I could not believe the number of troopers in there. I scanned the room while heading toward the mess line not really paying attention to where I was going. I bumped into someone "Ni ceta (sorry)" I say looking up to meet Captain Rex's eyes. "Oh I'm sorry Captain, I didn't see you there" I say. Osik... he makes me so nervous...Maker WHY?!

He laughed and awkwardly scratched the back of his neck (must be I make him nervous too) "No it's my bad, I wasn't looking where I was going". He then gestured for me to enter the line in front of him.

I smiled at him "Vor entye (thank you) Captain".

"Ba'gedet'ye (you're welcome)" he replied. "By the way you can just call me Rex".

"Okay 'just Rex', I am impressed by your Mando'a" I reply which causes Rex to blush and chuckle.

"One of my teachers on Kamino was Mandalorian. They taught me and the rest of my batch some of the heritage which included Mando'a" he says proudly.

I can feel the heat creeping up my face and I smile. "I wondered, I noticed the Jaig eyes on your helmet" I say pointing to his buy'ce (helmet) under his arm.

He looks down at it and was now beaming with pride "Painted them myself. I know you usually earn them by acts of courage or bravery but one of my teachers thought it was fitting."

"They say Mandalorian's are good at reading people. By what I have heard about you, you live up to the expectation." I said to him smiling.

"Vor entye (thank you)." He smiled back at me.

I give him a respectful nod as we finish getting our food.

I hear loud chatter and loud foot steps to go with it approaching me and Rex.

"I still think we should have gone to 79's!!" Fives says to us as he grabs Hardcase and puts him into a headlock.

"I don't know why you are taking this out on me! Jesse is the one who shot that idea down!" He yells, while struggling under the ARC Troopers grip.

Fives laughs "Because you are the one closest to me!" He yells.

I laugh at the boys and Echo swats at Fives. Fives lets go of Hardcase, "You take the fun out of everything" he says. "And you always act like a di'kutla (fool)" replied Echo.

Rex rolls his eyes and sighs before walking toward the table - where I now see the rest of the guys sitting - and I follow.

"Those two remind me of my two vode (brothers) Ordo and Mereel." I laugh.

Rex looks back at me in surprise "The Null ARC's Ordo and Mereel???" He asks.

"Yeah those would be the ones" I reply. Rex seemed shocked and confused so I explained further. "My Kal'Buir took them in as young boys because the Kaminoans said they were 'too unruly and would not follow orders'. They were wrong though, they are some of the most loyal men I know but dangerous yes."

"Wait what?" Kix said as Rex and I sat down at the table. "The Nulls are your brothers?!"

I laughed "Well not literally but yes, I was raised with them pretty much. Kal'Buir taught us how to fight to protect ourselves and each other".

"I'm just glad you are on our side. How does that saying go... Ke nuk -" Jesse begins to say before I cut him off.

"Ke nu'jurkadir sha Mando'ade. I give you credit for trying." I smile at Jesse who repeats the phrase.

"What does that mean?" Asks Hardcase as he, Fives, and Echo join the group.

"Don't mess with Mandalorians" says Rex between bites.

"Not all of us had the privilege of being trained and taught out heritage from Mandalorians. They have picked up on it since they joined the 501st." He continues lowering his voice so only I can hear. I hum in understanding.

We all finish up our meals chatting and laughing about various embarrassing stories Hardcase and Jesse tell about Fives. Most of them are him flirting with girls at 79's who are - in the words of Jesse 'way out of his league' - that usually end in him being rejected.

Fives is cute I'll give him that but he's definitely a little errogant and has an ego. He closely resembles Jango in those ways.

Fives finally speaks up "why do all these stories have to be about me? Why can't we tell embarrassing stories about Echo or Hardcase?" He whines.

This causes Echo to laugh quite loudly "Because you di'kute (idiot), you do stupid stuff all the time".

I giggled, Rex rolls his eyes, and the rest of the table nodded in agreement.

"You guys sure are an interesting bunch" I say laughing as I grab my tray to take care of it.

The rest of the table gets up and follows suit.

I catch Rex talking to another trooper whose armor is white and yellow.

"Whose that?" I ask Tup who is the closest to me.

Tup looks over to where I was looking "That's Commander Cody. He's the Commander of the 212th under General Kenobi. He and the Cap are pretty close."

"Ahhh" I say as I nod in understanding. "So, what's the rest of the night look like for you guys?" I continued.

Kix comes over and chimes in "I've got to go to a shift in the med bay. I'll catch up with you guys tomorrow." He says before we all say goodbyes, and he walks off.

"Basically it's the only downtime we get during the week so sometimes we stroll around Coruscant, or play cards in either the court yard or our sleeping quarters." says Dogma who really has been pretty quiet this whole time.

"Do you mind if I join?" I asked.

Echo and Fives lit up "Or course not!" They both said at the same time.

"Just don't forget about curfew....I'm not getting chewed out by the Cap because you di'kutla (idiots) were out too late." Says Tup.

Fives gives him a shit eating grin while he salutes "Sir, yes, sir" He says causing Tup to roll his eyes.

"Don't worry Tup, you guys are training with me first thing and I can promise you I'll kick his sheb (ass) myself if he's late" I say.

The boys laugh and head their separate ways. I follow Echo, Fives, Hardcase, and Jesse out of the mess hall. "So cards it is then?" Asks Jesse.

"I'll go get them we can sit in the courtyard!" says Hardcase before running off probably to their quarters.

"This way my lady" Fives bows and points in the opposite direction Hardcase went bounding off to.

"Why thank you kind sir" I joking bow to him. Which gets a snicker out of Echo and Jesse.

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