#with another perfect dog | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dazais-guardian-angel · 1 year

Text

Happy birthday Mushitarou!

The sad silly green man is one of the absolute best and also one of the most criminally underrated characters in all of BSD. I don’t have any fics or anything for him today (EVENTUALLY... eventually....), but I’ll share some headcanons for him (+others) that I have 💚 (part headcanons/part analysis tbh)

Under the cut cause uhhhh this got a lot longer than I expected it would ahaha, smh:

While I don’t think he had any particular falling-out with his family, I think Mushi is naturally isolated from them, and only became more closed off after his father died, someone whom he was especially close to and who shaped him into the good person that he is. He was lonely growing up in school, and Yokomizo was as well, even though it didn’t seem that way on the surface due to the latter being much more outgoing and extroverted; neither of them had anyone who truly understood and engaged with their interests (especially not Mushi after the loss of his father). Yokomizo was also estranged from his relatives, even more so after he became obsessed with writing, so he and Mushi became as close as family after enough time had passed – they really were all each other had, in so many ways.

Mushi already visited Yokomizo frequently enough as it is, without much else to do in his life, but began coming to see him even more often after he was told about Yokomizo’s terminal illness/given the request to kill him. Despite Yokomizo’s desire to finish his novel before his health deteriorated enough to be noticeable, he was unable to do so, and as time wore on, Mushi began to worry that something would happen to Yokomizo without anyone there to help, and took it upon himself to take care of him. Yokomizo’s urgency to finish his writing became more desperate, yet Mushi tried to keep him from pushing himself, which somewhat worked – there was an unspoken understanding that both were trying to put off the inevitable; for Mushi, it was out of utter denial of losing him and of what he’d have to do, and for Yokomizo, it was out of a sorrowful desire to spend as much time with Mushi as he still could, and guilt for the tremendously selfish and cruel thing he was ultimately asking of him, even as both of these emotions fought with his stubborn desire to go out the way he wanted to.

Mushi’s façade of hatred towards Yokomizo after killing him, although mostly a coping mechanism to distance himself from him and his grief, is not entirely without basis: a small part of him did want to genuinely hate Yokomizo for forcing this upon him, though ultimately a much larger part of him simply hated himself for doing something so unspeakable to the person he called his friend, even if it was asked of him.

Yokomizo, however, wanted Mushi to hate him over all, even if he never said this outright. The months leading up to his death were filled with worry for his friend, for the person who was essentially like a younger family member to him (not exactly a little brother, but… something akin to that. Although they’re probably around the same age, I feel like Yokomizo was more mature (not in every way though of course), and was protective over Mushi in a lot of ways); he knew Mushi very well, and he knew that Mushi would not cope well with his death at all, let alone what he was asking of him – he already wasn’t coping well. Mushi always had walls up and pretended to be arrogant, pretended to be selfish and not care about anyone but himself, but Yokomizo was the one person he was comfortable around, and he had long since practically become home for him: although their time together was never anything extravagant, he was able to bring him out of his shell, and force him to do and think about things he never would have otherwise, giving them both a happiness they each would have never otherwise known for so many years. But then that fragile peace they had together, that safety net, was being cruelly ripped away from them both, and the thought that Mushi would go back to being lonely, closed-off, and isolated after he was gone, drowning in his grief and with no one else to support him anymore, was more devastating to Yokomizo than even the fact that he was dying. As cruel and selfish as asking Mushi to kill him for his perfect crime was, I think a part of him felt it would be even crueler to force Mushi to watch him slowly wither away from illness (and he, too, dreaded and was terrified of having to go out like that, after so much drawn-out pain), and he selfishly hoped that Mushi’s hatred of him for forcing this upon him would overcome his grief, and the inevitable self-loathing he would have – yes, Mushi could hate him, needed to hate him, anything to keep him from hating himself. Of course, Yokomizo knew that wouldn’t happen, because Mushi was far too kind, far too caring, and far too selfless – anyone who would do so much for him for so many years as he had, especially after he became ill, and would willingly agree to go as far as to essentially euthanize him for his selfish final dream, no matter how much all of it hurt him, was truly the greatest friend anyone could ask for. Mushi was and is a beautifully selfless person, but he himself could never see it – only Yokomizo could, and so he knew exactly how he would respond, and worried about him immensely because of it. And that worry made him want to try to distance himself from Mushi as much as possible, to die as soon as possible, even, so it wouldn’t be even harder on him than it already would be… but in the end what won over that was his desire to make as many happy memories with him as possible in those final months, so they could somehow try to forget about what was coming, if only briefly; so that Yokomizo could, maybe, somehow, in some small way, believe that Mushi would be okay in the end after he was gone. :’ )

Continuing this, as part of those memories, I headcanon Yokomizo liked to dance with Mushi a lot, since there’s some art of them doing that 💚 Mushi also took Yokomizo out to various quiet place, like to see fireworks or the beach. He canonically doesn’t like the smell of the salty sea air (why? I have no clue), but I hc Yokomizo loved the sea, so Mushi went with him there at least once oops my Yokomizo Oda similarity headcanons are showing-

Yokomizo wanted Mushi to be happy, but it also worried him that his friend clearly bottled everything up and never allowed himself to cry, either. So seeing him cry in his last moments was a huge weight off his shoulders, and was somehow what ultimately convinced him that Mushi would one day be okay again. :’ )

At some point, probably multiple times, Mushi and Yokomizo had a discussion where Mushi tried to make sure that Yokomizo truly, sincerely wanted him to do what he was asking of him. Around and around, trying to talk him out of it, insisting that he hadn’t truly thought it through, but Yokomizo was always gently steadfast. After they settled on strangulation (poison, aside from being ruled out for the sake of the reader, was not what Yokomizo preferred when his body was already painfully killing itself from the inside), Mushi tried to suggest that he be given a strong sleeping pill/sedative before being killed so that he wouldn’t feel it, but Yokomizo insisted against it, as it would imply sympathy on the part of the killer, which couldn’t happen. His sickly state, although it wasn’t yet public while he was still alive, would already suggest a mercy killing and was putting the plan/general reception at risk enough as it was. </3

After killing Yokomizo, Mushi handled his body ever-so-delicately, tenderly, almost reverently, just as he had many times before while carrying him, as he strung him up the way he was instructed, and even as he cut off his ears. He took his time doing it, wanting to hold his friend close and memorize what he looked like for as long as he possibly could in these final moments, even though he felt like his hands didn’t have the right to touch him anymore. Then, after everything was in place and he’d fled the premises with the manuscript, he promptly threw up somewhere. :’ )

Yokomizo was the second person to give him the nickname “Mushi”, after Mushi’s father. No one else ever calls him that now; it’s a name reserved only for them.

Mushi struggles while trying to write at Poe’s mansion out of a feeling of inferiority compared to Yokomizo; writing and mysteries were never his passion, they were Yokomizo’s, and he was just indulging the latter’s hobbies. He has no right to claim the role of writer for himself, not now that he’s gone and when he was only ever in it for Yokomizo to begin with… and there’s no possible way he can ever create anything good or original, when they’d already talked at length about how everything in the mystery genre had already been done, and Yokomizo himself created the ultimate mystery that no one could ever possible top, least of all him.

But Poe knows that what he writes doesn’t need to be perfect or even good; Mushi only needs to do it as a form of therapy for himself, because it will bring him closer to his deceased friend, since mysteries are what they enjoyed most when he was alive. (and I honestly think Poe would understand and empathize Mushi very well, having been so isolated and lonely in the past himself before Ranpo essentially saved him just as Yokomizo did for him) Once he’s able to convey that to him, it gradually comes more naturally to Mushi and becomes comforting for him as Poe intended. 💚

Mushi forms a reluctant friendship with Karl over the course of his stay with Poe (inspired by this person’s art series of them together 🥹). It starts with Karl trying to help the first time Mushi has a nightmare there, and after that he starts bothering him/trying to get his attention in general, until Mushi slowly gives in, becoming begrudgingly fond of the little creature. Whenever he’s having a hard time, whether it be a nightmare or a panic attack or just listlessness, Karl is usually there for him, as his own personal therapy raccoon. 💚

To add to that, Mushi canonically dislikes thunder; I headcanon that when they were together during storms, Yokomizo always made sure to be even more chatty than usual, to distract Mushi from his fear of the noise. Once he’s at Poe’s mansion, when it storms, he suddenly realizes how much louder and scarier the thunder feels now… but of course he doesn’t let it show. Karl, however, notices his discomfort, and is there for him during storms now. :’ )

Post-series, in general, Mushi always brings treats for Karl whenever he meets up with Poe again. 💚

A headcanon plenty of people have, but Ango is absolutely crucial to Mushi’s journey of healing. Post-series, they have quite a few talks about their respective situations, and Ango is the one person Mushi ultimately (after enough time, of course) bears the most of his soul and his pain to, because Ango can empathize with him and understand his guilt/self-loathing/sorrow in a way none of the others can. Earlier on, Ango checks on Mushi the most (Ranpo and Poe do too though) to make sure that he’s taking care of himself, just like he occasionally does/did with Dazai.

Mushi starts wearing traditional clothes more often after Yokomizo’s death, including a few old things that used to belong to him, that are comforting to Mushi.

There aren’t many public photos of Yokomizo, since he was a rather private author. There is, however, only one single personal photo of him, one he roped a grumpy Mushi into taking with him once, his own expression being as sunshine-y and exuberant as always in contrast. Mushi cherishes it now :’ ) oops the buraiha trio vibes strike again

Because of his period of dealing with Yokomizo’s terminal illness, Mushi has some medical-related knowledge that the average person probably wouldn’t. It isn’t the kind of thing he wants to dwell on after Yokomizo’s death, and he can’t stand being around hospitals, for obvious reasons, but regardless, whether he’s consciously aware of it or not, he is especially compassionate/understanding towards those who are sick and disabled that he encounters. His time with Yokomizo has given him perspectives and philosophies about life that he wouldn’t otherwise have, and when he’s not trying to write strictly mysteries, it’s the sort of things that are evident in his writing. In a way, writing about it in general is healing for him, separate from mysteries being comforting to him solely because they’re associated with Yokomizo.

At some point, Mushi starts visiting Yokomizo’s grave together with Ango, Poe, and Ranpo, or sometimes just Ango. Similarly, he, Poe and Ranpo join Ango in visiting Oda’s grave. He and Ango each tell stories about their respective lost loved ones, so that more people will learn about and remember who they once were. 💚

With his ability, Ango is able to read the memories within the room Yokomizo was living in (or perhaps in objects Mushi owns), and see numerous happy memories he had with Mushi, long before his illness and death. With what he sees and conveys, Poe is able to write a small story of the memory, which he then gives to Mushi, allowing him to go into the story and relive the memory and see Yokomizo again for the first time in years. It’s not the real Yokomizo, and Mushi knows this – he’s long since stopped seeing the hallucination of him, because he’s healed enough by this point. But even so, just knowing that the book is there, that he can see his friend moving and talking again whenever he wishes – a version of Yokomizo that is just as happy and bright and energetic as he always remembered, without suffering from illness – is the greatest gift and kindness he could ever imagine receiving, and from his new friends no less, and it’s enough to make him cry, from how loved he truly is :’ ) 💚

I love Mushitarou sooooo much, and I truly hope he gets more attention in the future (can’t wait for tomorrow’s episode!!), because his story is so touching and his character so relatable and comforting 🥹 and I sincerely hope he finds his ultimate happiness in the manga one day. Happy birthday, you sweet, sentimental, pathetic (affectionate), goofy little gremlin man 💚

#bungou stray dogs #mushitarou oguri #meta #HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MUSHI TAKE MY ANGST-FILLED HEADCANONS #that will hopefully be fics someday. ha. haaaaaaah.........#'i dont have anything for his birthday :(' *writes 2.3k words of headcanons/character analysis dumping* typical me smh #'this will be short' narrator: it was not and never will be short #i just love him so much!!!! he's too underrated!!! more people need to talk about him *cries*#then again i feel like literally everyone who isn't skk or fyolai are underrated in one way or another in the bsd fandom sooooooo lol #but especially mushi </3 #it took me way too long to appreciate him but he is genuinely one of the best written characters in the series imo #up there with Oda #god #mark my words there's gonna be parallels between his and yokomizo's story later with fyolai #as there already is with him and oda & dazai #and then you all will see!!! the importance of his arc!!!!#him and ango too!!! aughhhhh i never get over how asagiri tied him and ango together so BEAUTIFULLY in a way that makes PERFECT SENSE #I'M NOT READY TO CRY TOMORROW FUCK 😭😭😭#anyway stan mushitarou he is best boy #he could take down fyodor with one kick full stop #in fact i think that's what he deserves

59 notes · View notes

cyberdragoninfinity · 8 months

Text

i havent been normal since it was pointed out how perfectly symmetrical Aporia's design is, and my subsequent realization that all three of the Emperors have such wildly asymmetrical designs in contrast.... these little imperfections, little things denoting how theyre not exact copies of Aporia, theyre 'flawed' mechanical recreations of moments that weren't supposed to be split up in the first place. their personalities are all so erratic and maladjusted because separately theyre in a way incomplete. and im ONLY SPEWING BLOOD EVERYWHERE A LITTLE ABOUT IT. PROMISE.

#ygo posting #iliasterliker9000 #another reason i get rabid dog when people act like it's canon that primo is A Perfect Robot Clone of Aporia BECAUSE HES NOT #THATS THE POINT!!!!! THE POINT IS THAT THE EMPERORS WERE NEVER HUMAN!!!#5DS IS ABOUT WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A PERSON AND THINKING ABOUT THAT WITH THESE GUYS MAKES ME EXPLODEE WAHH #dana's ygo bible study

15 notes · View notes

ratsandfashion · 1 month

Text

My mom pointed out that chinchillas only live 10 years on average just....out of the blue. I said yeah, but they can live up to 20 and change. She was like, yes, but the average is 10, and by then I think you'll be ready for a dog. 1) I am always ready for a dog. 2) WHY WOULD YOU MAKE IT A POINT TO REMIND ME MY CHINCHILLAS MAY LIVE SHORTER THAN I HOPE

#my mom #as if I wasn't harassing my dad to adopt Tater JUST THIS WEEKEND #I WANT THAT DOG SHES PERFECT #the one who isn't ready for a dog is dad and he doesn't like pits and she's a staffy mix of some kind #god tho wtf my chinchillas don't need to DIE for me to get another pet jesus woman #also they are not a stepping stone to the next level of pet or whatever she means

6 notes · View notes

sherlock-is-ace · 5 months

Text

#the week before last my mom and i decided to spend more time in nature since we've been cooped up inside since like 2020 #we decided to enjoy our garden again #(mostly cause we can't afford to turn on the AC because of bills going up but it was still a nice change in routine)#we cleaned up the patio table and got our folding chairs from storage (things we hadn't properly used in years)#i got an old unused notebook out to write outside and just have a nice chill time #we were combating mosquitoes but it was fine and my dog was really happy to just chill with us on the grass #it was perfect and lovely #...#that lasted exactly 3 days #last tuesday night some fucking asshole jumped my neighbors wall (or our gate idk) and stole our two old ass folding chairs #and wednesday night he came back to get the table he forgot (a table so fucking heavy idk how he managed to get it up the wall/gate)#and as you can imagine... if we can't afford to turn on the ac because the electricity bill is already impossible to pay...#it was a real fucking effort to buy another table #but i fucking REFUSE to go back inside like a fucking puppy with my tail between my legs #we can barely make it to the end of the month #buying something silly like icecream or an extra sweet has us revaluating the entire month's expenses #and we can't even own fucking furniture that we've owned for like 15 years #i'm so fucking tired!#i want to either die or leave this place and honestly dying is more achievable #anyways i just spent almost half the money i had on my bank account #but i bought a small folding table which i will fold up and bring inside every fucking night because not even a gate can keep you safe #i will fucking sit outside and enjoy fucking nature so help me god!#(if the rats/lizards let me lol)#see why i'm so fucking tired all the time?! when you're not dealing with pests you're dealing with human pests #i do thank god and all angels above they didn't try to break in and kill us in the process but my fucking garden furniture!!!#that was too long cause i'm still pissed #and tomorrow is grocery shopping day so i'm depressed again #angel talks #personal

7 notes · View notes

gorillaxyz · 14 days

Text

im just a girl

2 notes · View notes

tumblasha · 11 months

Text

i'm 99% certain that one day i'll be an elder and my opinion "vegans that make a big deal abt ppl eating 'pet' animals are annoying bc i have no problem eating Any Animal" will sound a lot like the edgy opinion "i'm not a bigot bc i hate everyone equally" and idk how to feel abt that

#a lot of white usa americans make such a horrified when ppl say that they sometimes culturally eat guinea pigs or dogs or cats #and the way that i perceive it #it's just racism (not even well-hidden)#(arbitrary animal hierarchies are silly imo)#but also the animal-farming industry is v evil #but yummy : (#yes this all stems from a tweet abt some rando being horrified abt being invited to culturally eat a dog at a full moon in another country #(rather than politely saying 'no thank u')#i know that in a Perfect society we don't kill animals so horribly to eat them #(my personal problem is the excess killing and not the killing itself?)#or maybe we don't kill them at all (lab-grown meats and such)#but as for now i really wanna eat the way that i was raised bc it's one of the few ways i feel connected to my culture #thinking abt that speaker at the mit vegans club that compared hanged dead gay ppl to hanged dead chickens in a market #W H A T #but oh well #there are bigger problems (imo) in the world and i'm okay w not caring abt the animals' feelings #dash rambles #dash may be problematic #dash is an elder bigot in 2050 #tumblasha #vegan #animal rights #thinking abt the time i was in the ihouse kitchen and i said #'so we all agree that animals are inferior to humans right?'#and i didn't give anyone time to disagree bc i'm not gonna do all that at 2 in the pm ifjewoiajfew

11 notes · View notes

cuteniaarts · 2 months

Text

Fanny, my sweet, beautiful girl

17.11.2012 – 14.04.2019

#my art #artists on tumblr #I cannot accept that it has been 5 years already #I know covid messed with everyone’s sense of time but it simultaneously feels so much longer and so much shorter than that #exactly five years ago I was holding onto my mom for dear life and sobbing as we watched lilo and stitch together #not the best movie to watch when you’ve just lost your first ever pet you know #and then I cried myself to sleep at the next morning we never mentioned her again #I know it’s because it was way too painful for everyone involved. but I do wish I was allowed to process that grief properly #instead of bottling it up and pretending everything was okay until I was reminded of her #feeling like my heart was being shattered over and over again every single time #well anyway. enough of that. I’ve allowed myself a nice long cry today and got most of it out of my system #and once I was feeling okay I decided to draw her #and I can count the number of times I’ve drawn animals on one hand so.. I’m not too sure about the result #but it felt like to commemorate her in some way.#so yeah. here she is. my dear girl. the best dog in existence. she was always so affectionate and kind #which I didn’t always appreciate bc of how young I was. when you’re a kid it feels like pets will live forever #never barked. never bit anyone. her only crime was chewing on my mlp and lps toys that I left out on the floor #but I’m grateful she did that. it taught me not to leave my toys lying around and to clean up after myself #she really was taken from me way too soon. ideally she could still be alive right now. but I’ve been down the road of guilt and regret #there was nothing I could do. I was a child. I can only hope that she knew she was loved right until the very end #even if I didn’t know how to show it properly. and great. now I’m tearing up again #I suppose it’s unavoidable. April 12th will always be a melancholy day. and maybe that’s not such a bad thing #it’s good to have a day when I can freely remember her and cry if I need to. it’s healthy. it’s better than crying every day #she never liked it much when I cried. always tried to comfort me. that’s the kind of dog she was. I miss her so much #when I move apartments and get a dog of my own I’m getting a spaniel. just like she was #well. maybe a different colour so I don’t end up sobbing every time I look at it. but spaniels really are the perfect breed #I mean. cavaliers especially were bred for love and warmth. that’s just what I need. it will be nice to have someone waiting for me at home #and while I don’t necessarily believe in the afterlife… I do hope that Fanny’s watching over me #spiritually comforting me when I feel all alone in the world. it’s a nice thought for sure #and hopefully she won’t mind me getting another spaniel too much. it will be done in her honour after all. to make up for my past mistakes

5 notes · View notes

kunikidas-lost-glasses · 2 years

Text

Nikolai comforting Fyodor when he's feeling empty and depressed

TWs: depressive episodes, feeling empty, feeling broken, feeling helpless, depression, slight mention of high fever and injuries, struggles with eating, dissociation, probably a bit ooc

Not proof read by now

-------------------------------------

There are some days where Fyodor can't get out of bed or can't manage to do anything. Dressing up, washing himself, working; everything seems either boring or overwhelming. He feels like he isn't really real. Everything is disorted. He drowns in his thoughts and if he manages to read something, he drowns in these fake worlds. As soon as he snaps out of the bubble, he gets hit by the overwhelming scary reality. His mind is filled up with too much racing thoughts like every day and usually it doesn't bothers him but on these days it's overwhelming. He feels broken but at the same time there is a strange emptiness deep inside him. He keeps telling himself that he has to stop feeling this way. He can decipher the mind of nearly every human being and the structure of nearly every mental disorder so he knows exactly what is going on with him but he is unable to stop it. He is unable to help himself on these days. Dressing up feels like a challenge and working is impossible even tho he knows how important it is for him to come up with new plans. On these days he won't eat or drink. He will just lie in his bed, spiraling down dark thought spirals. He hates it. He hates feeling vunerable and he hates negative emotions. He shouldn't be feeling them. His tired violet eyes lost every light there might be left and he stares blankly at the wall.

On these days, his only light in this cold cruel darkness is Nikolai. His Angel. His Koyla. Nikolai always visits his hideout. Every single day. Due to this, he will always notice when his Fedya is suffering again. Seeing Fyodor lying in bed during the day isn't something strange since he often sleeps very long after days and nights without sleep were he only sat in front of his laptop and worked without any break but Nikolai will still immedialy notice if it's one of these days again and not just normal exhaustion. The whole athmosphere of the hideout is diffrent on these days and it immedialy alerts him.

Nikolai will always kneel down next to Fyodor's bed, greeting him softly and shifting Fyodor's attention fully onto him. It pains him to see how dull and empty his Fedya's beautiful eyes look. When Fyodor allows him to, he will gently grab one of Fyodor's oh so cold hands, warming it and run through the others black messy hair with his free hand.

Nikolai might be a very loud and energetic person but in these moments, he is quiet and gentle. They don't talk much. Nikolai doesn't need to ask what's wrong. He knows what's wrong with his love. He knows him inside and out after all. They grew up together on the cold cruel streets of the ukraine together after all. He held Fyodor close while the other was shaking violently, suffering from the high fever. Fyodor patched him up when some people on the streets tried to rob them and slashed thier dagger through his face, over his eye, giving him his scar. They saw each other at thier weakest and now they know each other better than they know themselves.

Nikolai often kisses Fyodor's forehead, asking him if he can climb into the bed too to hold him. Fyodor usually never says no. If he doesn't feel crime and punishment raging inside him, he won't say no. He feels so touch straved and Nikolai is the only person who isn't afraid to touch him. He knows about all the risks. He knows that Fyodor could kill him with one single touch but he still holds him, warms him, kisses him and caresses him. He isn't scared. He loves his Fedya.

Fyodor feels cold on these days. The cold which he hates so much seems to linger around in his room and consuming him fully. He freezes. The cold creeps under his blankets and his clothes but when Nikolai lies down next to him, pulling him to him and holding him close it disappears nearly completley. It never fully fades away but when his Koyla is there, it's barley noticable anymore. Nikolai holds him and Fyodor can feels him breathing and hears his heart beating steadily in his chest. In these moments he allows himself for once to feel vunerable, loved and sad. Sometimes he clinges to Nikolai as if he would disappear if he would let him go. Nikolai then caresses him, plants small kisses on his head and whispers calming things in his ear in thier mothertongue. The lie like this together for hours. Limbs tangled and bodies pressed close together. Slowly Fyodor's dark thoughts get flooded with the warmth and light which Nikolai always brings him. It's funny really. Nikolai calls Fyodor his salvation when in truth, the clown is Fyodor's salvation. He is the only reason why he hasn't completley gone insane by now.

When Fyodor feels better again, Nikolai will get up and make something to eat for them. He brings the meal to his bed, together with a glass of water to drink and his iron pills which he forgot to take. He helps him to sit up and he helps him to eat. Eating is hard then but Nikolai is there, praising him for eating and helping him. After they finished eating he will make Fyodor his favorite tea.

While the russian is slowly sipping it, letting the warmth of the tea fill his chest, Nikolai will clean his messy depression room. He doesn't mind that everything is lying around. He doesn't mind the embarassing pile of dirty plates. He doesn't mind the clothes lying around and the papers which lie around torn apart in shredds. He doesn't mind that it takes hours for him to clean the room and he doesn't judge his Fedya at all. After everything is cleaned and the first round of dirty laundry is in the washing machine, he will climb back to Fyodor into the bed.

He knows that it would be better if Fyodor would get out of bed and take a shower and dress up while he puts clean sheets on the bed but he won't force him out of bed now. Not today. Maybe tomorrow but not now. Right now it would be too overwhelming.

Lying back down with the russian in his arms, he gets rewarded with a kiss from Fyodor and he actually mumbles a thank you. Nikolai may be incredibly happy about hearing such words from Fyodor but he doesn't burst out in sheer happieness like he would usually do, Fyodor knows how happy he is now anyways, but holds him even thighter and tells him that he doesn't need to thank him for this.

The rest of the day, the lie together, Nikolai playing on Fedya's hair,caressing his back, talking about random things and taking away all the bad thoughts from his boyfriend for this time until Fyodor manages to doze off. Fyodor feels safe, warm and loved and for once his mind isn't racing that much and isn't filled up with dark thoughts so he lets himself drift off into deep sleep.

Nikolai will continue to hold him through the night and when Fyodor wakes up the next day, the curtains are opened and Nikolai walks cheerfully into the room, bringing him breakfast, his favorite coffee and kissing him. The room seems bright and warm now.

Even if the dark thoughts are still there, in the back of his mind, Nikolai is there for him. Patentially going through this and all the other depressive days with him. He never leaves. Maybe they will get Fyodor out of bed today. Maybe they spend another day in bed. But he isn't alone anymore. There is someone who loves him and who makes everything more bearable.

59 notes · View notes

southern-friedfemme · 2 months

Text

purse dog is a cheetah girl

#she’s so perfect #everybody marvel at my perfect tiny dog #femme’s best friend #i’m getting another tiny terrier bc of her lol

3 notes · View notes

innytoes · 2 years

Note

“You got me a stocking?” - “Of course, you’re family.” For either Reggie & Ray or an AU where the Molina family adopts Reggie, please!

For my fourth and final version of this prompt, I decided to go full sci-fi dystopian AU because of course I did.

"Reassignment assessment, Reginald Peters, written portion." The computer said as he sat down at the terminal. He'd just finished the physical scan, and from the way some of the squares had coloured orange, it wasn't going great. Probably his weight and blood work, if he had to guess.

"Um, I can't... I can't write," he told the terminal. "Or read." Immediately, the keyboard disappeared, and a little speaker appeared next to the questions, with a microphone icon replacing the keyboard. He took a deep breath, and started the questionnaire.

After his dad had been caught stealing, he'd pretty much flushed away any credits their family unit had down the drain. Mom had managed to save herself by taking a blood alcohol test, proving she hadn't partaken in any of the stolen goods (though Reggie was pretty sure that was just dumb luck). She had managed to stay in her job in the kitchens, reassigned to the bunks there, instead of being sent to the jail like Dad.

But the lack of credits did mean there was no way she could keep Reggie on. And Reggie had been going to work with Dad, cleaning, since he was seven, so he couldn't be reassigned to the Kitchen bunks.

But all the credits he earned were transferred straight into the family account to pay for food and rent, so it wasn't like he had any credits of his own to rent out a room somewhere. Carl had kept him on until he was transferred to Reassessment, let him take over Dad's route as well as his own, so he'd managed to earn enough to keep himself fed while he stayed in the Cleaning bunks.

But now he had to prove he was worth keeping on permanently. Or get lucky enough that one of the better paying departments would take on a scrawny thirteen year old who couldn't read or write and wasn't deemed bright enough to get a scholarship for school when he was little.

He spoke as clearly as he could, knowing the voice-to-text AI wasn't perfect. He laid out his work history, his references (which was really only Carl). There were some weird questions at the end as well. Like his favourite colour, and his favourite class. Probably because he was a minor. He tried to keep the bitter upset tone out of his voice in case it messed with the AI when he answered. "I don't know." And: "I don't go to school."

The last question, the one about what he wanted for his future, he wasn't exactly sure how to answer. "I hope to stay on and work my way up at the Cleaning Department, or perhaps get transferred to the Kitchens," he said.

Except when he let go of the mic button to submit his answer, a flashing yellow warning came on the screen. Apparently the facial recognition had flagged the answer as dishonest, would he like to try again?

He tried again. And again. Finally, frustrated, he said: "I want to earn enough credits to be able to afford my own rooms, in whatever Department that will take me, and maybe even get enough to be able to afford a dog, or a hamster." He'd never told anyone about that dream, but it was at least flagged as truthful, and before he could edit or resubmit his answer, the test declared he was finished, and to please move on to the next room to wait for reassignment.

It was the first time he'd been alone, had his own rooms, since his dad was caught. Reggie reveled in the quiet, taking the standard issue meal from the Fabricator at set times, and catching up on some much needed sleep. After a few days, though, he got a little antsy, so when he computer terminal finally beeped that he'd been reassigned, he was thrilled. He quickly washed his face, tidying the bed and getting dressed, stepping out ready to meet Carl, or maybe even the head of the Kitchens.

Except it wasn't Carl. It was a family. A mom, a dad, a girl about his age, and a little boy. They looked like the kind of family that had enough credits to send their kids to school without scholarship credits, wearing non-standard-issue clothes and cool shoes and even jewelry.

Before he could tell them they probably had the wrong room, and that the orphanage was down the hall, the woman said: "Reginald? It's so nice to meet you!"

So it wasn't a mistake. Reggie stayed quiet as they lead him away from the Reassignment wing, up to levels and past parks where he'd only dreamed of being promoted to clean, until they arrived at their unit. Inside was big, but it still looked cozy, like a real home. The walls all had non-standard colours, there was art displayed, the furniture was non-standard issue.

"Come on, let me show you your room," the little boy, Carlos said, dragging him along. "You still have to pick your own colours and stuff, it'll be fun!"

So he got his own room. That he got to decorate. And he got to pick out non-standard-issue clothes, and they enrolled him in school, and every day Reggie was waiting for the Molinas to realise they'd made a mistake, to send him back to Reassignment, but it never came. Not even when he bombed his first pop quiz for his Writing class (the p and q were hard, okay?), or when he accidentally burned dinner helping Rose cook.

Three weeks in and they still hadn't sent him back. When he came home from school, thrilled to report that he'd actually passed a test for once (math was way easier than letters), the apartment looked... different. There were twinkly lights all around, and the furniture had been rearranged to make room for a tree, and oh. Christmas.

"Hey, mijo," Rose said, smiling from where she was hanging a garland up below the screen of the TV. It was playing a video of a fireplace, which just made the whole room feel even cozier. "How was school?"

He shyly showed her his Pad, with the bright red 100% at the top of the page on his math test. "I got my math test back," he said. He glowed with pride and maybe something else when she caught him in a hug, telling him how proud she was. She even insisted on wasting using credits to print out a copy to hang on the fridge.

"Do you want to help me decorate a little before you start your homework?" she asked. He usually waited until Ray was home, because Ray always looked over his letters and helped him sound out the really long words for his reading. He was really nice about it, too, and never got frustrated when Reggie made a mistake.

"Okay," he agreed happily, helping de-tangle even more lights, and hang pretty baubles in the tree. Ray came home from his shift, smiling and jumping right into helping decorate.

Together, they finished up the tree, except for the star. That would be put on when Julie and Carlos got home. They were in school longer than Reggie, because Rose and Ray hadn't wanted to overwhelm him. He had Writing and Reading and Math, and because Rose insisted school should be fun as well, once a week he also got to go to Music. They’d let him pick whatever he wanted, from art to sports to flight school.

Finally, Ray made him stand back and decide how high the stockings would go. He could read the names on them now. Rose and Ray both had fuzzy-looking stockings with a faux fur trim on it. Julie's was purple, of course, and shimmered in the light. Carlos' had a fabric that changed colours when you ran your finger over it, so you could draw little doodles on it.

And then Rose handed Ray the last one. It was red (he had a favourite colour now), and it looked very soft. And on it, in shimmering letters, it read Reggie.

"You got me a stocking?" he asked, startled, eyes flitting over the name again and again, just in case he misread. R-E-G-G-I-E. Reggie.

"Of course," Ray said. "You're family."

Maybe it was time to stop waiting for the other shoe to drop, Reggie thought, even as his face crumbled. Rose pulled him into a hug, Ray wrapping both his arms around him. Maybe this could be home.

#julie and the phantoms #reggie peters #make reggie a molina 2kalways #fanfic #ray molina #rose molina #best parents rose and ray molina #I wrote a thing #sci-fi #dystopias #yes it's another dystopian au from my gremlin brain #was this what you wanted anon? probably not. is it what you're getting? yep.#girl help I already have so much headcanons for this au I'm never gonna write #of course they get Reggie a dog for christmas #he cries and cries and Carlos is like: oh no did I pick out a bad one?#and he rushes to reassure Carlos the puppy he picked is perfect #the dystopian space station au

32 notes · View notes