#and even if the word itself doesn't apply to me

[bunybunn]

See you are assuming that world of Dream smp was not extremely disfunctional which is not the case. Like I pointed out one day on the server was th and same as on in real life. The only instances where that was not the case was the afterlife/limbo and the tales of smp stories (because of time travel). The L'Manberg revolution didn't lasted years, it was short but brutal conflict.

Also actually Tommy's 18 birthday is reference during negotiation between New L'Manberg and Dream about the potencialy punishment for burning down c!George's house. Earlier in the same vod Tubbo also references his actual year of birth while in character.

I feel like trying to age them up does disservice to the story itself as it takes away the tragedy that it was. It was full of trauma and insanity and the fact some of the members were just teens adds to that. Besides Dream smp was not realistic because no matter how hard you try it's story is mixed in with Minecraft mechanics. Many of the laws and rules that would apply in real word doesn't exist there. Why wouldn't teens live alone? Why wouldn't they adopt random zombie pigling? There is nothing actually stopping them.

As for Wilbur's original idea, it isn't cannon because it never was part of the actual lore and because Dream smp was an improvised mostly (the script was just points that needs to happen ex. C!Schlatt's death was a point that needed to happen but cc!Schlatt was just improvising what to say or do exactly) and not made with the idea of rp originally in mind most characters was quite close to how the streamers playing them were.

For example c!Tommy didn't acted like adut especially not someone in his early 20s. That was very much a teen behaviour with how reckless and stubborn he was. Him being immature because he was young was such an important part of his character.

It just doesn't feel right for me to try to age them up to make things feel more "normal" ignore big part of what Dream smp's story was. It was full of destruction, cruelty and immoral. The only truly mature c!Tommy we see is the one in cc!Jack Manifold's last dream smp stream and even there you can see how different he was from when the dream smp was ending.

An angel dies when someone calls c!tommy a kid or says he's 16 when by all means he's implied mid 20s by the end of the series, same with c!tubbo and c!ranboo, plus they all to my knowledge have no canonical ages

[ragdollic]

It's always a "let me know if you need anything" until I try to tell them to not misuse the word delusional and then I feel like they're suddenly acting off to me specifically and fully expect them to avoid me and that in turn causes my symptoms of paranoia to act up which answers my previous "I'm pretty sure this word *probably* doesn't apply to me, I don't know. Does it affect me? I dunno, probably doesn't directly affect me right? But even if it doesn't, I need to try to correct them and pray they listen and take me seriously"

[morporkian-cryptid]

This year, for the first time in my life I'm going to attend a TDOV event while identifying as non-binary and being comfortable in that identity ^^

It's been a long, long road, and there's still much of it to walk. It still feels strange to me to say explicitly that I am non-binary, I am very shyly counting myself when talking about the trans community. But here I am! I am not a woman and I haven't been for a long time. My gender is complicated, blurry, and I still don't have a clear word for it, but I no longer feel like I need one. For a long time I felt like I lived in the margins of gender; not woman enough to be cis, but not other enough to be trans. But there's no such thing as "not trans enough"; I have my place in this community. Thank you all for being here, being so welcoming and patient, and giving me the time I needed to grow into myself. I'm not quite done figuring myself out and I suspect I never will be, and that's not only alright, it's reassuring and exciting!

Happy Trans Day of Visibility!

[shadowedresolve]

also. should i make a persona 5 oc. place ur votes now. more details in the tags so if you're interested, i'd appreciate your input!

[gold-onthe-inside]

Request (slightly nsfw): Spencer comes into work and doesn’t info dump in the briefing. The team questions him and turns out he cut his tongue on his gf’s piercing.

tongue-tied

who? spencer reid x bau!reader (no use of y/n, called cupcake by morgan) content warnings: a little making out and a little foreplay, doesn't really get past that word count: 1.6k songs: say when by the fray a/n: i really struggled balacing the line between banter and bullying for derek and spencer, but consider it early seasons where derek doesn't know where to draw the line <3

They weren't even supposed to be working today, but it's not like crises come scheduled, and who was to blame Spencer for starting his Saturday morning with a little enthusiasm?

He liked taking his time with his girlfriend (a fact that still felt unreal to him, the word itself felt so strange in his mouth), kissing every inch of her. She was like poetry. Everything about her drew Spencer to her. He took her all in - every breath, every movement, the way she arched up into him. His girlfriend. He still wasn’t entirely used to the concept, but that was what he enjoyed about this slow Saturday morning. He had time to memorise every inch, his fingers gently tracing over her skin.

His mouth trailed up to her ear, feeling her shiver, and then a jolt of pain stabbed through his tongue, catching on the back of her piercing. He let out a slight hiss, drawing back. “Ah…” Spencer’s hand lifted, gently dabbing at his tongue, the pain spreading across his mouth.

"What happened?" you asked, looking at him, concerned, tucking strands of hair behind your ear.

“Your earrings…” Spencer ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth, his face twisting at the lingering sting.

You tutted, sitting up. "Show me."

Spencer obeyed, opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue to show her. A small bead of blood pooled in the centre, a testament to the tiny yet rather painful wound.

"Hold on, I probably have some glycerin somewhere," you said, shifting off his lap and towards her wardrobe, rummaging through a drawer.

Spencer raised a quizzical eyebrow at her, slightly amused despite his uncomfortable injury. “What kind of person just has glycerin laying around?”

"The kind who eats pizza too quickly when it's hot," you replied, returning with a small bottle and a cotton bud. "Open up."

Spencer’s mouth curled up in a smile, which was quickly interrupted by a brief wince as she used the soaked cotton bud to apply the glycerin. “Well, at least it’ll taste good this way…” he teased, poking his tongue back out.

You chuckled as you dabbed at the cut, and their phones rang simultaneously, making your shoulders sag.  "With that kind of unity, it must be Hotch."

Spencer grumbled slightly, reluctantly leaving the bed to reach for his phone on the nightstand. “I was hoping for a quiet Saturday…” he mumbled, lifting his phone. Sure enough, Hotch’s name was on the caller ID.

"Ha, no such thing," you scoffed, grabbing your own phone and answering JJ as you grabbed an outfit from your closet.

Talking hurts. In fact, everything that hits his tongue sends a sliver of sharp pain, and so he's uncharacteristically short with everyone, which raises more than a few eyebrows in the briefing.

"No statistic on that to bring up?" Emily asked, her smile teasing and even Derek's got a laugh that he's masking.

"Didn't seem relevant," he said quickly, withholding a wince, and it was like you could sense the danger of getting caught when you brought up a question to Rossi to bring attention back to the case. If only that had gotten the them off his back.

Derek cornered him in the kitchenette, smirking as he sauntered over. "What was that in there? Cat got your tongue?"

On another day, he would have launched into a story of how the phrase originated from the cat o' nine tails, and so saying it meant that you had been flogged into submission, or from the Middle Ages where it was believed that witches would allegedly steal tongues and it transferred onto the black cats that accompanied them as familiars, or that ancient Egyptians who worshipped cats would punish liars and blasphemers by feeding their tongues to cats. Instead, all he said was, "Just didn't feel like it," and continued stirring his coffee.

Derek immediately noticed the lack of a long-winded, completely off-topic, but fascinating rant. And that caught his attention. It was even more suspicious when he couldn’t even look him in the eye, instead keeping his gaze firmly on the coffee maker.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Derek pressed, moving so that he was standing just behind Reid. Derek knew from experience that, if you wanted to prevent him from making a run for it, you had to block his path before he thought to try and escape.

"This kind of behaviour is exactly what gets you in trouble with HR," Spencer pointed out, then winced, his tongue flaring with pain.

Derek’s eyes narrowed as he observed Reid’s face, noting the subtle wince. Something was definitely up. “What’s wrong with your mouth?” he asked bluntly, his eyes now drifting over his face as if they would somehow be able to glean some sort of answer from his expression.

"Nothing," he replied, his voice hitting a higher pitch, a flush colouring his cheeks.

He’s lying. “Bullshit,” Derek said bluntly, his arms folded. “Every time you open your mouth, you wince. So just tell me. What happened?”

"I just burnt my tongue, that's all," he mumbled, hoping Derek would leave it.

Derek’s eyebrows lifted in disbelief. It seemed like a flimsy explanation, and he wasn’t going to let this go. Spencer was hiding something. “You burnt your tongue? How?”

"O-On coffee, I forgot it was hot," he said. God, he should be better at lying than this.

Derek’s frown deepened at his answer. “And you’re sure that’s it? No other reason why your tongue would hurt when you talk?”

"What other reason would there be?" Spencer asked, sipping stale coffee.

Now they were getting somewhere. Derek couldn’t help but notice that his cheeks had turned a light shade of pink. “That’s what I’m asking you, pretty boy,” Derek said, folding his arms across his chest.

"What's it matter to you anyway?" Spencer asked, trying to make his escape.

Derek moved to block his path once again, his eyes watching his friend closely. Something wasn’t right here. “It matters because you’re hurt,” Derek pointed out. “So, just be honest and tell me the truth. What really happened to your tongue?”

Spencer groaned. "I... cut it this morning..." he said, halting and hesitating.

Derek’s eyes narrowed once again at his words, instantly sceptical of his answer. “You cut your tongue?” he repeated, his tone clearly indicating that he didn’t believe him. “And how exactly did you do that?”

"Morgan," he pleaded, protesting.

Derek’s eyes remained locked, searching Spencer’s face for any hint of dishonesty or a lie. “I want the truth, Reid. How did you cut your tongue?”

Spencer's entire neck had become flushed now. "On a piercing," he muttered quietly.

Ah. Derek’s eyes grew a fraction wider, his arms now dropping to his sides as everything clicked into place. That’s why he’d been trying to avoid talking this whole time. “A piercing…” he repeated, a smirk beginning to edge onto his face. “Specifically, whose piercing?”

"Does it matter?" Spencer asked, trying to escape him again and Derek blocked him too easily.

Derek’s smirk widened as he watched Reid begin to squirm under his gaze, and it was clear that he had hit the target.

“Yeah, it does. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so reluctant to tell me, pretty boy.” A thought suddenly occurred to him, and Derek’s smirk curled into a grin as he studied Spencer for a long, calculated moment. “Wait a goddamn minute. Is this Cupcake's doing?”

"No!" he squeaked.

Derek’s grin widened at his reaction, which immediately told him that he was correct. Bingo. “Oh god, it is…” he said, his tone a mixture of delight and disbelief. “It was her piercing, wasn’t it?”

"What! I never said that!" Spencer cried and his obvious fluster told Derek all he needed to know - he’d hit the mark.

“You didn’t have to say it. You just confirmed it,” Derek drawled. “You can’t hide anything from me, pretty boy. And that means you were with her this morning -” He leaned in, his grin widening a fraction more. “- weren’t you?”

"I- You can't prove anything!"

“Oh, this is priceless…” Derek was clearly enjoying this, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he watched Spencer begin to panic.  “So, let me get this right: you were with your girlfriend this morning - on your day off - and, somewhere along the line, you cut your tongue on her earrings.”

"You don't know it's her," Spencer tried to bluff.

“Dude, you’re blushing like a schoolboy,” Derek pointed. “And you’re being so damn defensive. Put two and two together, genius. I’m not judging, Reid, just wondering - how exactly did you slice your tongue on her earring, anyway?”

"How do you think?" Spencer muttered.

Derek smirked, his eyebrows lifting. “You’re telling me that you were making out with your new girlfriend, and you accidentally cut your tongue on her piercings?”

"I'm not telling you anything!"

Derek’s smirk just grew wider, as he could practically see the thoughts swirling through Spencer’s mind. He absolutely loved getting to him like this. “You could have just told me that it was from making out with your girlfriend, pretty boy. I’m not gonna make fun of you for that. Although, I’m impressed that you somehow managed to cut your tongue in the process…”

Spencer groaned, lowering his head in shame.

Derek chuckled in delight, thoroughly enjoying watching Spencer getting all worked up.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, man,” he said, a wide grin on his face. “As long as it was a good time, a few marks here and there are worth it.”

"Can I go now?" Spencer asked, mortified.

“Yeah yeah, alright,” Derek said, still chuckling to himself as he backed off, allowing Spencer to leave. “Have fun with your girlfriend,” he teased, his tone laced with playful innuendo, watching Spencer scurry off back to his desk.

[spitdrunken]

HIAHA I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE MR SCARLETELLA CAN YOU WRITE MORE. so odd and unsettling and obscene m just giggling with delight

HIIII thank you so much for the high praise <3 this has kind of a different vibe from the last one but plays with similar-esque concepts!!!! this is 'weird and obscene' LMAO

Notes: Suggestive, mild body horror, bolded = dialogue in the Other World's language.

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

How do you touch a man without a physical form? Or, you suppose, 'man' isn't quite the correct term. 'Apparition' would perhaps best describe him. Though he can reach out to you and make you feel the illusion of touch, you can't actually make contact with him. Your hand passes through him as if he were nothing but air.

You don't think he minds. It's always a bit hard to tell, with him. Mr. Scarletella ususally just stares you down with a dead look, communication relatively limited. But you would like to touch him! So you experiment a little, an action for which no mutually intelligible word exists. Still, he doesn't move as you poke and prod at different parts of his body, coming up short every single time.

You crouch down before poking at his ankle, just in case. When you look up, your heart stops for just a moment. Mr. Scarletella's neck is snapped back, folded in on itself in order to observe you. Vacant-seeming eyes are trained on your every movement. The sight makes you feel squeamish. "God... Not do," you tell him. "Head look hurt. Not funny." There's no other way you can think of to put it. You get up and stick your hand down, waving your hand in the other direction at the side of his head. He seems to understands what you mean, as his skull snaps back in its usual direction. You circle around him. "Sorry. Not want upset you." He says, although you know he'll never really listen or learn, not when it comes to these things. "Me like you. You like me." As if you'd ever forget. You beckon him. Rather than simply leaning down, his form flickers, distorting, before reappearing in the desired position. There's just one place you haven't touched yet. Once again, you extend your hand, the tips of your fingers brushing against the top of his umbrella. The surface is smooth to the touch and wets your skin, accompanied by a small burst of static ringing in your ears. It takes a moment for the significance to register. "Oh! I can touch your umbrella!" You say, forgetting the Other World's language in excitement over your discovery. Even though it's relatively small. You can't touch Mr. Scarletella himself, but the umbrella appears to be 'realer' than the rest of him. ...Actually, maybe the umbrella is a part of his body? He's not human, after all. He doesn't have to exist according to your logic. Your brow furrows. The puzzle pieces of language move in your mind, until they're slotted together semi-coherently. You point at his arm. "Arm you." Then, you do the same for his leg. "Leg you." You wave your arm up and down. "Body you." Finally, you lift your hand in the direction of the umbrella. "Object you? Me can touch object. Touch you?" Mr. Scarletella's smile widens. It reveals a little bit of the void that stretches on behind his lips. "I see. Correct. Object me. Object is..." After which he lowers his umbrella and says a word you haven't heard before. You try to repeat it, and he says it once again, pointing the umbrella in your direction. "Touch umbrella. I want."

It's definitely... Weird. It's genuinely like touching an umbrella. Cold and smooth and slightly wet. But Mr. Scarletella wanted you to do it, and you're kind of intrigued yourself, so you do it. Because there's clearly something happening. As you trace your fingers over the outer canopy, making sure to at least touch every panel a little bit, his visible form starts to flicker and fade. When you apply a bit more pressure, move a little faster, parts of him start to distort and change colour. His arm appears a little dislodged from his shoulder, static rising in the background.

When you pinch one of the metal tips in between your fingers and rub it, he lets out a laugh that is far more high-pitched than you would've expected it to sound like. Clearly, there's some kind of link between the umbrella and the rest of himself. Though you can't envision what it must be like, he's feeling something. Your hand pauses. In the blink of an eye, Mr. Scarletella has materialised even closer to you, nose close enough to touch yours, if it could. The inky darkness of his pupils makes up most of what you can see.

"Me like. Like like like like." He sounds breathy despite not breathing. "Touch more. Again. Me want you."

[andhumanslovedstories]

I've been running this writing experiment lately to cut out phrases like "I felt" in my fiction writing. Like I was looking at a sentence in a draft that said, "he felt as if character's eyes were pinning him in place." And then I was like, "well, does he think that or is it true? As a result of this person watching him, he's froze. It's not like a thing, it is that thing."

Oh and "almost"! I'm always going, "He felt almost relieved that it hadn't happened." Well, did he feel better that it didn't happen or didn't he? Or "somewhat", I'm always going, "she felt somewhat perturbed."

And like none of that is wrong, to be clear. I don't know if it'd improve your writing, I don't even know if it'll improve my writing, but I use this sentence structure all the time so every viewpoint is from a voice that thinks about what it thinks, hedges its statements, and offers the same ability for wry little jokes formatted in the exact same way. And I have a lot of writing like that and I think (!) that they're good, but read as a whole, I'm like, "god, they all sound the same." Like there's one melody that I write songs to, so even with different lyrics, it's almost (!) the same song. Something I've been struggling with in regards to my writing and why I've felt so blocked is how boring I found writing my usual way. I'd read something and enjoy the individual parts of it, but then I'd step back and I didn't like the whole. And I got good at this enough at seeing that I didn't like it to do it in real time as I was writing, which as you can imagine didn't improve the process of writing because now I was bored AND dejected about being bored.

There's this sentence-level structure fact that I use unconsciously. A pattern I find easy is short sentence, short sentence, short sentence, long sentence. So I write that. "He [verbed]. He [verbed]. Then he [verbed]. As he [verbed] to his [consequence], he [verbed] that [noun] was [statement of condition]." Which could work, it often does make for a nice rhythm, but it's something I reach for often because it's easier for me.

Just last sentence, I originally typed, "I find it easier for me." But if what I mean is "using this pattern is less effort than another pattern," then it's easier for me. One voice is hedging its bets and the other asserting. Either is fine! But they're different! And, again, GOD you would not believe how many words I've cut out of this paragraph as I write it. I'm so chatty. I love using twelve words when six will do. And that gives my writing a specific tone to my ear.

So if I am bored of that tone, why not try using just the six words? Why be understated? Why be afraid of stronger opinions? So right now with my fiction, I'm experimenting with cutting out as many self-reflective words as I can. Sometime you do need to draw attention to the face that this is the character's interpretation, but like you definitely don't need to do it as much as I naturally want to do it. You don't need to always go out of your way to allow the possibility that the narrative voice is wrong. During editing, I trim the weaker ones (I originally typed, "what I consider the weaker ones" Is that more accurate?). But I think them being there in the first place shifts my language which shifts my character's which shifts my plot. It's sentence structure all the way down!!

(this barely applies to my writing on here, btw. i try to do good but yknow this is a tumblr blog. i'm not trying to get a lit mag to accept it.)

Anyway blah blah (chatty!) the point is I've been trying to write in a way opposite of my interests. Something that doesn't take itself too seriously, that emphasizes EMOTION and ACTION instead of minimizing it, and that clips through scenes at a good pace. Doing this been amazingly fun. I've been having such a good time doing it. I am writing so much because I really enjoy doing it. The process of writing is so fun again.

This post is about two things. One is my new mood stabilizer and therapy day camp. The other is about the benefit of pretending to be MXTX.

[maelancoli]

Writing Explicit Intimacy More Deeply

okay after the kissing post i've wanted to try to write something about actual sexual scenes. it's taken me a while to figure out what approach to take for such a broad subject because this is such a subjective form of writing and everyone has very strong opinions and varying proclivities. the truth is you are not going to please everyone and there will be a chunk of people who will always dislike your choice of words. and so even in writing a post to help others, there's going to be people who strongly disagree or find what i prefer to be cringe or unerotic.

the portrayal of sexual intimacy and the approaches taken are as varied as the sexual preferences, appetites, turn ons and turn offs of every day real people. this can either make you freeze up when writing, or free you to realize there is no 100% right way to approach erotic art and anyone who tells you otherwise is a smartass or trying to sell you something. so with no further ado, this post will be exactly what it sounds like so proceed at your own risk.

i'm going to focus less on style itself and more on approach. the first thing is that you don't need to divorce 'fluffy' non explicit intimacy from sexual writing. the exact same style and techniques you use for non sexual intimacy can often be applied to the sexual scenes too. kissing scenes, the chaste restrained touches filled with deeper desire, the linger looks from across the room, the build up to the first moments of vulnerability, the first few kisses, the first 'almosts' are connected to the sexual scenes themselves. it is all the same emotions and tensions. they're only heightened. and for sex scenes that are produced from these build ups are a simple escalation. you only need to expound upon what you've already built. don't view it as starting new and having to figure out how to write a different topic/moment. it's a continuation and all you need to do is use the tools you've already given yourself.

my second tip is to spend time shaping your character's tastes, kinks, turn ons and icks, their secret fantasies, their red lines they won't cross, their pleasure zones, the places they find attractive on others that they like to focus on and stimulate. if you want your sex scenes to feel real and not like it's just a emulation of generic smut or porn, you have to do what you do for literally anything else to make it not feel bland or contrived: character development.

where does your muse like to be kissed? what parts of their body make them feel stimulated, what parts are the most sensitive? not everything is about genitals. a lot of people like their foreplay to start with groping in varying erogenous zones. some are unconventional, some like their ears licked, they want their wrists kissed and sucked, they just want their partner to hold them close etc. the more you practice and explore what feels right for your character, the easier building on that foundation of tension will become.

if you feel awkward you can write the characters feeling awkward too because it often is. sex isn't always erotic or super steamy. it can be funny and awkward or just a natural physical thing happening between two people. focus less on if it sounds good in the first draft and focus more on if it makes sense for the characters, focus on how this moment makes them feel, where they feel their arousal and excitement in their body, how they respond to each other, what this means to them or what it doesn't mean etc. after you have gotten that down, then you edit it. add the prose, use the language that either make sit feel less crude to you or more erotic or more poetic etc.

lets take eliza and grabriella from last time so we can expound upon their previous interaction

it wasn't like she had never seen gabriella before. the first time they had seen each other outside of a dorm room or stuffy lecture hall was at dance club which was too crowded and too loud and was less 'dance' and more 'stand around and bob heads and take up too much space on the dance floor.' but she did remember what gabriella wore. she remembered her cropped blouse with ruffled sleeves and how she hadn't worn a bra beneath it. she remembered that she did dance. she remembered how effortless it looked. and the shorts which hugged her thighs and formed that little indentation that first made her wish she could tuck her fingers beneath the hemline and tug her close. she had denied those instincts then, those unrealized desires. but she wasn't denying it now. because now gabriella was on her mattress, sitting on her knees in only her bra and lacy underwear which evoked that same feeling. eliza imagined hooking a finger just at the waistline and tugging. butterflies swirled in her stomach and static radiated through her at the mere thought because this time she could do it. "you okay?" gabriella murmured. she was smiling. that smile made her feel all the warmth of the brightest stars which whispered she was meant to be here, with her. "yeah," eliza breathed out. she leaned closer and feathered her lips along the other woman's. even with a trembling hand she reached forth and brushed her fingertips at the edges of gabriella's panties. "i'm okay," she promised. she allowed herself to smile and in doing so realized she was already grinning. "more than okay." "good," gabriella kissed her back, one of her hands sliding into eliza's hair as the other tenderly began to caress her bare thigh. "have you ever...?"

"no," she admitted. heat gathered in her cheeks which were turning pinker by the second. her ears must have looked sunburnt and she had to resist the urge to cover her face. "not really...not like this." a pause. she bit at the inside of her lower lip and glanced up at gabriella's soft features. when their eyes met, she simultaneously felt all her muscles relax again. but those damn butterflies kept fluttering within her. "have you?" "once," gabriella nodded. then she smiled, a shyness in her expression which only made her features glow all the more. she reached down and gently grasped eliza's hand. she rubbed her thumb over her knuckles. "just follow my lead," she murmured. "we'll make up our own steps." she slowly guided eliza's fingers beneath the lacy waistband. and then further. until she felt the damp warmth between her thighs. eliza's breath hitched and she almost forgot how to control her lungs. "i think i can figure it out," she replied with a small smirk before she tenderly rubbed the pad of her thumb against gabriella's mound. when the other woman breathed in deep, almost moaning, she knew this was a dance she would happily memorize.

i put the rest below the cut to help the post from being too lengthy. but essentially here we see a continuation of eliza feeling uncertain in new territory but finding comfort and reassurance in gabriella. she might be nervous, but she has no doubts about this woman she's attracted to. rather than just describing one action after the other or focusing only on the biological responses happening, we're delving into the continuation of anticipation, we're showing the gentle push and pull between them. eliza has the desire to take control and give pleasure to gabriella. but she finds herself needing gabriella's guidance and that's okay.

because they met dancing, we can use dancing symbolism. deciding the contrasting language and euphemisms you want to use for your ship will help you broaden how you write the intimacy beyond the physical.

eliza wants to be more dominant we see hints of it here, but realistically someone who is new to a situation will not be able to go straight into that. but, say that there is continued scenes of intimacy between them, after the first time, we would start to let her slowly explore that. perhaps gabriella would coax it out of her, maybe eliza will surprise her. she'll tug her close by her belt loops, she let herself bite at her rather than just gentle kisses. it will happen slowly and surely. and that is typically also good advice for if you want to include more kinky content. the first time people have sex they're not gonna jump straight into that. even if they're experienced in kink they still have to get to know one another and get a feel for each other's bodies, what they do and don't like, etc.

there's further tension to explore if you utilize those intimate scenes correctly, continuing to build and escalate each time upon the previous moments. don't just jump straight to crazy sex. build up to it. let them explore each other and their sexuality together. that is where the steam comes from, the continuation of tension, the excitement of getting to know one another. don't just steamroll right over opportunities for development and sensuality.

anyway that's it folks bc this post is long af. have fun, write freaky shit, write cute shit, write what makes u happy and horny.

[zarla-s]

We move forward, 'cause we can't go back...

It's the EIGHTH anniversary of Handplates, and the first one after I finished the comic back in July! I decided to dig up a very old wip that I never finished and finally do it. I've always loved WeMoveForward by The Midnight, and I think it applies not only to the comic itself but also this period after it... there's no way to go back to when I was doing it, only moving forward after it's done.

Even more appropriately, since I did this wip, these characters all moved forward even further... even as this sat in my files, they moved forward, in a sense. I don't know, the song gives me a sort of plaintive, longing, bittersweet feeling... it's hard to explain.

I had a very insistent voice in my head that always made me do a Handplates page over the years I was working on it, no matter what happened. I wasn't sure if that voice would ever stop, even when it's done, but it has! It's gotten quieter now, mostly only nagging me about other projects I should be working on (Defrag, the Ace Attorney/Frozen fic, web design, fic ideas, art ideas...) whenever I'm doing something, much like it did before I started the comic.

How I feel about Handplates finishing though is strange. At times it doesn't feel like it's over, even if I don't feel like I need to do another page. At other times I get sad thinking about it and I miss it, and other times I look back on it with amazement that I was able to do it. Sometimes I look back on it and think about what was happening in my life at that time, and sometimes when I look at it it's unreal and it's hard to believe I even did it, like someone else did the whole thing. It's like it's there but it's not, it's present but it isn't. It's a very strange feeling, it's hard to describe or pin down. I know it'll always be with me in some way, but it is strange to be able to focus so much attention on other things without that feeling of having to set aside a few days to do a page every two weeks... not bad or anything, but I'm not used to it still.

I don't know! When I read the comments on the last page a lot of them made me cry, especially those talking about how the comic had been their childhood, and now their childhood is over. It was sad to think that I had a part in something like that ending... but it ends for everyone, no matter what you do. We, you and me, everyone... we move forward, 'cause we can't go back. That line was so evocative for me that I even used it as a chapter title for the penultimate chapter on Comicfury.

I don't know, just nostalgic thoughts! I don't know if that's the right word for it... but thank you to all of you who read it and enjoyed it. Even now I hear from new people coming to it and reading through it again now that it's done. Even if it's finished, it's still new to people just finding it. It's still "living" in a sense. And thanks to those of you who stuck around even though it's done, I appreciate it. |D

(As a note, the Gaster ukagaka has a surprise if you boot him on the anniversary after seeing the brothers, if you haven't done that)

[index] [patreon]

[becomingthatgirl111]

how to use social media and your phone in a positive way

if you want to improve or change an aspect of your life it takes your commitment to be consistent and make real changes. to start, take a piece of paper and answer these questions that will help you have a greater focus and be aware of what you want to change.

how much time are you dedicating to social media?

is it taking up your time?

what would you like to do with that time?

how much time would you like to spend on social media?

what content do you follow?

do you follow content that you consider harmful to you?

instead, what would you like to follow more? (for example, accounts that inspire you or help you to improve, can be about cooking or some hobby you have)

what app do you use most often?

how long do you use your phone?

would you like to use it less?

what habits/hobbies would you like to spend more time on?

now that you are more aware of this issue and how it may be affecting your life i'll share some tips to help you make your social media more secure and use it more positively.

stop following those accounts that are not giving you anything positive.

start following profiles of people who really inspire you or teach you something, for example about the topics you are interested in or the kind of person you would like to become and take them as an example.

set a time limit on the use of these applications, i.e. about 15 minutes a day for example. you can do this from the app itself or from "settings" on your phone.

follow positive content that resonates with you such as people sharing affirmations, success stories or even motivational speeches.

don't use your phone first thing in the morning or last thing at night.

download productivity apps on your phone, such as daylio, notion, habit, etc. with which you can log your days, have a record of your habits or even use them as to-do lists, there are many more of these types.

"i am" is an app that sends you positive affirmations every hour as a notification, it will help you to be centered.

if you do any activity leave your phone somewhere else or even if you are on the bus don't be stuck on your phone, allow yourself to enjoy the present moment.

use the internet to search for information on topics that interest you, either on youtube, blogs, podcasts…

block people or words that you know are not bringing you anything positive.

spend more time cultivating yourself instead of focusing on a world that doesn't exist in social media.

other things to consider.

what we see on social media doesn't have to be real, even if it is, don't compare yourself with those people. on the internet, everyone will want to give their best face and that doesn't mean it's reality, it shouldn't affect you either so forget about it and focus on your own path.

the real world is outside and not through a screen. live human experiences and try to do what makes you happiest every day.

on social media and internet we can find a lot of useful information, let that be the main reason why you use it, and stop wasting your time scrolling on tik tok.

my personal opinion.

the use of social media is not negative, but we have to control what we are consuming and how it is affecting our lives and the time we are spending.

it seems normal to be on the phone all day but this is not beneficial, there are more things to do in the real world and many people say they don't have time to do things when they are really wasting it with their phones.

you can look for information on things that are useful to you but leave your phone aside and start applying them to your life.

leaving all the social media aside has made me feel much better and even more liberated. you don't really need to see what's going on on the internet, because it's not important, there are more important things to live for out there, even more interesting people to meet.

create your world from the experiences you would like to live, the people you would like to share, the person you want to become, and focus on that, which is much more important. in the end, if you don't think about it, it doesn't exist.

[changisworld]

Edging with Leeknow.

->Edging: Edging is when an orgasm is controlled & taken away at the last second while being extremely built up in pleasure but delaying it for as long as possible.

Word count:1.9K

->Smut warnings: meanie leeknow, edging(duh), begging, dom!leeknow, pet names(but no pet play), fingering(f rec), oral (f rec), finger sucking, blue balling(?)

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

A/n at bottom<3

“lie down for me” he speaks in his usual voice but you can tell it’s tinged with annoyance. He kicks off his shoes & you listen to what he says, sitting down on the couch before spreading your body along the sitting cushions, your back against them as you lie down, the fabric of your skirt spreading across your thighs as you spread your legs, a small wet patch already forming on your panties.

He looks down at your exposed panties and a sly smile spreads across his face “eager are we jagi?” He trails his fingers along the damp fabric of your panties, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm “You've been bad today, haven't you?” His voice drops to a low, almost menacing tone “I don’t know where you got the attitude from, teasing me in front of my friends.” He spits venom in his words into your ear in a low tone & without warning, he slips his hand into your panties, his fingers brushing against your sensitive folds “Let's see how long you can hold out before you beg me to let you come, hmm?”

“Minho, don’t do this, don’t tease me please! isaid i was sorry” you cry out in annoyance, knowing if he goes through with this you’re in for a long night.

He chuckles darkly at your pleas, his fingers continuing their torturous,slow circles “Sorry doesn't cut it this time, y/n. You were naughty and now you have to face the consequences, mkay?”He leans in close, his breath ghosting over your ear “& I plan to make you suffer, jagiya.” Without warning, he suddenly stops touching you, leaving you aching and desperate “Ah ah ah, not yet. I'm just getting started.” A mischievous glint appears in his eyes as he settles back, keeping his hand tantalizingly close to your throbbing center.

“leeknow please! don’t like teasing!” you whine, giving him a pout to try get him to feel bad enough so he will listen to you, knowing deep down that it will fall on deaf ears.

Leeknow's expression hardens at your whine and pout, his hand not moving from its tantalizing position “Nice try bunny, but those doe eyes won't work on me this time.” His fingers brush feather-light against your sensitive folds, making you twitch with need “You're going to take your punishment like a good girl.” He leans in close, his lips barely grazing yours “ And I'm going to enjoy every single second of it” With that, he plunges two fingers deep inside you, curling them against your most sensitive spots, only to withdraw them just before you reach the edge of release.

you let out a small yelp at the feeling of his fingers filling you & the slight stretch as he skips the small step of adding one finger first by adding two at once & you can’t help but clench around them, my hips trying to grind into them as much as possible, his words going in one ear & out the other.

Leeknow chuckles darkly at your reaction, his thumb brushing teasingly over your swollen clit “That's it, let me hear those pretty noises, y/n.” He pumps his fingers in and out slowly, your moans making his cock already leaking in his underwear, but that’s the least of his concerns, it’s not even in his mind for more than a second, instead focusing on your already fucked our state. “Love you being my little toy, but aren’t toys good, hmm? why would you be so bad to me?” he asks condescendingly, bunny teeth poking from his cheeky smirk he’s giving you, his fingers purposely slowing down whenever he feels you clenching more than usual.

“minnie j-just let me cum, will be so good for you” you whine, hand reaching down & placing itself on his wide shoulder, clenching down on his covered skin.

Your boyfriend however, tsks and swats your hand away, a stern look on his face “a few touches won’t just make me forget jagi.” His fingers pick up their pace, curling and stroking your sensitive spots mercilessly & you let out a crying squeal, his fingers hammering into your gummy spot just the way he knows you love.

“J-jagi i, fuck, i can’t hold it, g-gonna cum.” you whimper to him, your voice trying to stay convincing yet soft to try win him over as your legs shake & threaten to close around his hand, but he’s quick to swat your thighs away with his spare hand before pulling his fingers completely out, chuckling at your whimpers of dismay.

“I didn’t say you could cum, so hold it, it’s not that hard” he groans at you, faking annoyance as he watches your reaction as he wiggles down so he is just centimetres away from your cunt from touching his lips & he groans at the smell of you, completely raw. You look down at him with plead in your eyes & he can’t help but chuckle as he latches onto your clit, not wasting time before swirling the bud, already protruding from your hood & you dig your head impossibly deeper into the couch cushion.

you let out a whimper in annoyance as you feel his fingers slide back into home, your g spot being bullied by the tips of his soft fingers & you bring your hands down to your already completely solid nipples & start pinching at them, trying to distract yourself from the pit in your stomach that keeps getting snatched from you at the last second.

Leeknow growls low in his throat at the sight of you pinching your own nipples, his eyes darkening with lust. "Nuh-uh, jagiya. Those hands are mine." He removes his mouth from your clit just long enough to roughly grab your wrists, pinning them above your head. "I'm the one in control here, & i don’t remember telling you to do that."

His fingers relentlessly tease and stroke your soaked folds, keeping you on the edge but never letting you fall over.*"Look at you, so desperate and needy. You're loving this, aren't you?" He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear, the squelching of your wetness being spread around your labia & his fingers before being pushed back inside you not going amiss.

“Don't worry, kitten. I'll make sure you get what you deserve. Eventually." With a wicked grin, he dives back down, lavishing your sensitive bundle of nerves with the attention it craves, while his fingers continue their maddening rhythm inside you & you can’t do anything other than let out a wail.

“leeknow stop being so mean, just make me cum before i get up & leave” you say, trying to sound even the slightest bit convincing but your words just come out shaky as he wraps his plump lips around your clit, your eyes trying to stay open to look at him as you speak, your hand weaving itself into his hair to try keep him there.

He pauses his actions momentarily, his lips still pressed against your throbbing clit. He looks up at you with a sly grin, his eyes gleaming with what seems to be mixed emotions.

"Oh, is that so, jagiya?" His voice is low and taunting "We both know that’s not happening." He taunts at you, his lower half of his face covered in your juices as he resumes his relentless assault on your sensitive bundle of nerves, his tongue swirling and flicking against it mercilessly. His fingers curl and stroke your slick, throbbing walls, denying you the release you crave.

You finally process what he’s actually saying & you decide to try take matters into your own hands, but he’s quick to hold you tighter with his free hand, un suctioning his lips from your clit, his eyes rolling, seeming annoyed. “You're not going anywhere, y/n. Not until I'm good and ready to let you come." He punctuates his words with a particularly sharp suck on your clit, eliciting a desperate whimper from you.

You buck your hips in front of his face in protest & he scoffs before hastily pulling his fingers from you, making you whimper from the loss & he licks his fingers clean.

“You’re too needy, y/n, i’m just not gonna let you cum.” he spits out at you & you grab at his arm, eyes still teary.

“No! plea-don’t be like that! i’m sorry! i’ll stay still!” you cry out, giving him pleading eyes & he chuckles. “there’s no point edging you if you’re just gonna cum at the end now, is there? I’ll see how you behave & maybe let you cum at the end of the week.” he whips back at you, giving you a smile that would be cute if it wasn’t in this context as he takes your panties in his pocket, no doubt to put in his pocket later(probably to jerk off to in the bathroom despite you being more than happy to help).

He kisses your cheek & pushes the stray strands of hair from your shiny face before chuckling again before going into the kitchen to get you both a drink, not bothering to wipe your juices from your face.

You let out a frustrated cry, kicking your feet into the couch as you stand up, legs feeling like jelly as you storm after him.

-A/N: i’m sorry i have been gone so long😓 My plan is for this to be the last instalment of my kinktober & i’m instead going to write new parts to some supposed to be oneshots & also some new fanfic ideas, including a series!!

I’m sorry if this isn’t really up to standards, especially after the huge wait:(

[azsazz]

Over Ice (Part 5)

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: She’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!!

Warnings: Mentions of reader's fictional father passing away.

Word Count: 3065

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Notes: UGH, sorry if this is shit, it doesn't feel right to me rn but i'm powering through.

_________________________________________

“I’m sorry about the other night,” you tell James when your Athletic Training Techniques class breaks to practice wrapping injuries the following Monday morning.

You don’t know why you’re apologizing for Rhysands behavior. He’s the one who should be doing the apologizing, but you can’t help the prickle of guilt that has wedged itself into your chest for the way he treated James when he so rudely interrupted your chat with his teammate at the hockey party you and Mor had attended.

Rhysand had crashed into your conversation like a F5 tornado, his violet eyes set in a glare so harsh you’d think that James Attor was his biggest rival and not one of his teammates. That stormy look on his face had only made you rage in return, utilizing the crackling irritation in your veins and wielding it like lightning, snapping at him for his disrespect.

James’ brows furrow at the pre-wrap you’re applying to his wrist. His tan hand in warm in yours as you keep it steady, and you wonder if all hockey players hands are this calloused.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” he says, russet eyes flicking up to meet yours. He swings his legs softly from where he’s perched atop one of the tables. It’s cute, even more so when he shrugs innocently. “That’s captain, you don’t mess with what’s his.”

What’s his? You almost scoff but catch it just in time. “I’m not his,” you respond stiffly.

James’ cheeks turn bright red and for a moment you’re worried you’ve wrapped the athletic tape too tightly but he’s quick to blurt out his response. “Oh my god, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. I was trying to say that he told the entire team to stay away from you because you’re his cousin’s best friend, not because he, like, owns you or anything.”

And well, that’s a lot better than him insinuating that Rhys wants you all to himself, which, the longer you think about it, leaves you with a gooey feeling in the pit of your stomach. One that you’re not sure you should like given the knowledge that he warned his entire team away from you.

Yeah, that thought strikes you just as harsh the second time around, and this time, you latch onto it like a leech.

“He put a teamwide ban on me?” You almost shriek. You knew that he didn’t want you talking to his team, he made that perfectly clear to you the other night, but you had no idea that he talked to the entire damn team about you!

You ignore the glare a crimson haired girl beside you shoots you. Whatever, she should mind her own business and focus on her wrapping because that girl’s arm would be drooping like a limp noodle if it were really injured.

She breaks the stare off first and you go right back to stewing. What the hell? Rhys is acting like a total barbarian over this entire situation. It’s not like you’re related to him for fuck’s sake, you’re an accessory to his cousin, and if you want to shack up with one of his players, you will, because damn his rule. “He can’t do that! I don’t even know most of the team!”

“I think the term he actually used was banished. Or was it forbidden? I can’t remember,” James trails off thoughtfully. All you can do is gape in response, completely frozen at Rhysand’s audacity. When your partner notices the look on your face, he winces. “Maybe you could bring it up with him?”

Damn right you fucking will.

There’s a pinch between James’ brows when you continue your assignment. You’re too lost in your head, brewing over Rhysand and how he forced you to pretend to be his girlfriend the other night and the fact that he told his entire team to keep away from you. It’s embarrassing to say the least.

You’re so stuck in your head that you don’t notice that you’ve pulled the tape too tight around James’ arm. He’s trying to stick a finger under your work, tugging at the bandage to get his blood flowing again. You huff and begin to unwrap, letting the news fall off your shoulders for now with a heavy exhale. “Sorry,” you mutter.

A twinge of guilt hits you. Here you are, dragging poor James into another awkward position that has nothing to do with him and everything to do with his pig-headed captain.

You have half a mind to tug your phone out of your pocket and send chew Rhys out over text. He’d given his number to you after your first tutoring session so that you could set up the next one since you were in much too of a mood after running into Amarantha and giving you the ultimatum that made your view of him go from hot and gentlemanly to hot and an absolute fucking douchebag.

And this has certainly not helped his case.

It doesn’t take long to make up a plan for yourself. You’re going to stay far, far away from the hockey house from now on. You won’t be attending any more games, no matter how much Mor begs. And you’re going to email your psychology professor about finding a replacement tutor.

If Rhysand doesn’t want you around his team, you’ll make sure that the message was well received.

“No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m distracting you,” James says, and before you can respond, he holds a hand up, halting you. It looks silly because his hand is wrapped stiffly with your handiwork, and the both of you crack smiles at the sight.

“How does it feel now?” You ask, examining his arm. It looks good, and as you poke a prod, you think it’s tight enough, but you want a second opinion before your professor comes over to evaluate.

James twists his arm this way and that, tries to bend his wrist to feel the tension. He looks impressed, and a surge of pride overtakes the lingering irritation. “Feels good. You’re a natural at this.”

Your cheeks heat at the compliment. “Thanks, James.”

Professor Maeve makes her rounds, and echoes a job well done when she reaches your table. With a soft smile, she continues to the crimson witch beside you, and you try your very best to keep your face neutral when the professor critiques her work. You tuck your lips carefully between your teeth and switch positions with your partner.

“You know,” James says as he begins wrapping your wrist. “The hockey team’s athletic training student graduated last year and the positions open. I don’t have much sway with the coach, but if you want it, I can put in a good word for you.”

He says it like it’s no big deal. Like you haven’t been banned from interacting with any of the hockey players. Like they haven’t been warned away either.

You stare at James in confusion, until he lifts his head, and you notice the cheeky grin on his face, the glint in his amber eyes. If you’re willing to play with the captain a little bit, he’ll take your side.

And fuck do you want to stick it to Rhys right about now.

“I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard all week, James.”

“You know it.”

You come out of your psychology quiz feeling light.

You may not have scored a perfect hundred, but you have a feeling that you did a lot better than you have been doing thus far in the semester, and reluctantly, you have Rhysand to thank for it.

The both of you had spent Wednesday night studying in the library. You hadn’t brought up the ban, much too tired to deal with him more than you had to. He’d shot you a look of confusion when you immediately tucked into his notes and study guides without an utterance of a sarcastic remark. It had been the longest day of the semester so far, as you played catch up in psych while he worked on a paper for an astronomy class he was taking as an elective.

You don’t know what surprised you more, that he’s as nearly as good with astronomy from what you’d read of his paper, or how he managed to stay so on top of everything in his life. He’s an excellent student, excelling in all his classes, whilst being caption of the hockey team, and a tutor? You don’t know how he finds the time for all of it, because just the idea of adding anything more into your courseload this semester makes you want to melt into the floor.

But you will be, because you’re determined for the spot as the hockey teams athletic training intern.

Rhysand doesn’t have a clue, and it takes more effort than you thought it would not to blurt it out just to see the look on his face. James has been a tremendous help, setting a meeting time with his coach to meet with you at the beginning of next week. Apparently, coach Devlin cares a lot about his team. He might be harsh on you at first, James had advised, but he’ll warm up to you quickly. I think everyone will.

And well, you didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Hi honey,” your mom greets when you call her on your way back from class. It’s a brisk day on campus, and you’re cuddled in a bright orange sweater because it was the least you could do to celebrate Halloween. Students all around are either dressed to the T or in their normal garb, saving their costumes for when the night falls and they can really show out.

“Hi, mom,” you respond, biting back a laugh at a particularly funny costume. It’s one of those blow-up ones that you’re sure would not be a fan favorite in a lecture of a hundred students. It’s shaped like an alien stealing a poor human, and you’re thankful you don’t have any classes with him because sitting behind that would not be fun.

You wonder if he might be in Rhysand’s astronomy class, and debate snapping a photo to send his way, questioning his stance on aliens.

“How are you? How are classes going?”

“Good, mom, everything’s good,” you say, and it’s almost the truth.

Your mother keeps a very busy schedule and has since you were twelve, when your father suddenly passed. As her way of coping, she threw herself into her work, giving it more than 110%, and in return, she was promoted. Now, she spends most of the year traveling across the country to visit and meet with different suppliers for her company.

Usually, you’re fine with it, because she’s trying her best and you’re in college, but when you do have the rare time off for holidays and breaks, sometimes your schedules don’t quite align.

Which you know is the bad news about to come from the other side of the phone as soon she sighs heavily.

“What is it this time?” You grouse, and the good mood you’d been in after taking your quiz plummets. “No time off for parent’s weekend? No winter break this year?”

She says your name in a scolding manner. There’s a tinge of regret that you know she doesn’t expect you to pick up on, but it’s been the two of you for so long that you don’t even need to see her face to tell that she’s as sad as you are about the news. “It’s not Christmas. It’s Thanksgiving. They’re sending me over to London for a convention. I’d love for you to join me but—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” you reply solemnly. “Not enough time off.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie. But I promise I’ll see you for winter break. I’ll make it up to you then, and I’ll even pick you up from the airport personally.”

You have no doubt about that. Your mother spoils you, even if she isn’t the one doing the actual shopping. You love that she’s so important to her company and that she adores her job, it’s what you’re striving for too, but sometimes you wish she was around more, to give your life advice and rant to her about boys and class and anything. You spend more time talking to her voicemail than you do her.

“That sounds good.” You swallow around the lump in your throat. Tears sting the back of your eyes because you really were looking forward to seeing your mom. You haven’t seen her in months. She’d been halfway across the world when you left for college, and it had felt weird packing in your empty home and leaving it with one last longing look over your shoulder, with the memories of a happy family growing up there turned silent and eerie. “What do they have you doing instead?” You ask to be polite.

Your phone buzzes in your hand and you pull the device away from your face to check the incoming message. You’re not really paying attention to your mother’s rambling anyway, and all you really want to do is hang up on her for the sour knot she’s unknowingly put in your stomach.

Rhysand: How did it go?

You ignore the warmth that fills your chilled veins at his thoughtfulness. You’d mentioned in passing when your quiz was, and you certainly didn’t expect him to remember this on top of all the other things he has going on in his busy schedule right now.

You: Pretty sure I aced that shit.

His response comes much faster than you expected it to, especially considering you know he’s about to walk into the arena for practice. You wonder if he’s going to dress up for the party at the hockey house Mor is dragging you to, or if he’s going to be sporting something lame like wearing his jersey.

Yes, you told yourself you wouldn’t step foot in that house again, but it’s Halloween, and Mor is way more persuasive than you ever gave her credit for.

Plus, if you’re near Rhysand, it’ll be much easier to get back at him for your ban.

Rhysand: Is that so?

You bite back your amusement, typing a reply.

You: So it may not have been a 100, but I’m pretty sure it was an 85% or higher.

Rhysand: Pretty sure? I guess we’ll have to study harder so next time you’re 100% sure you’ve aced it.

You don’t know why you like the sound of that so much, but his words are encouraging, a nice change from the way your mom’s shouting spills from your speaker, snapping you back to attention.

“Sorry, mom,” you apologize, “I just remembered that I’m late for a study group. I’ll see you for winter break, okay? I love you.”

She makes a noise that’s somewhere halfway between unimpressed and amused. “Okay sweetie. Study up and stay safe tonight, okay? Happy Halloween.”

“Happy Halloween. Bye, mom. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she says, and you end the call, refocusing your attention on your phone.

You: Sounds like a plan, cap.

Rhysand: Cap? Not sure I like you calling me that, if I’m being honest.

You: Why? Because I’m not allowed to talk to hockey players? Which, by means that I shouldn’t be talking to you either, right?

You shouldn’t snap, especially since you’re going to have the pleasure of being around him and can chew him out tonight, but you can’t help yourself.

Rhysand: Ugh, I’m never going to live that down, am I?

You: Not a chance.

Rhysand: How about I make it up to you? You’re coming tonight, right?

He replies to his own message before you can even answer.

Rhysand: Of course you are. It’s going to be the hottest party on campus. Why did I bother asking?

You: WOW! This tops the cake on being full of yourself, I think.

You: But if you were wanting to make it up to me…what that might look like?

You don’t realize just how much you look like another one of his simpering conquests until you catch yourself in the reflection of the door to your dorm building. A cheesy smile on your face, head stuck in your phone, oblivious to everything around you.

Jesus, get it together, girl.

You mentally scold yourself, but when your phone buzzes again, all of that is lost to the ether, and you too, diving back into your phone.

Rhysand: It might look long and hard, around eight inches I’d guess.

You choke. Eight inches? There’s no way.

While you work out the schematics of how that works with anyone, Rhysand sends a follow up.

Rhysand: I can tell you’re thinking about it. If you ask nicely, I’d be more than happy to show you. ;)

You can’t help but scoff. Where does he get off? You’d ask, but you know he’d have another cheeky response to the question.

You can’t believe this is how he messages you. This is less than professional, but you have already felt his hard body beneath yours, and how nicely you fit under his arm. It’s not difficult to picture how he might be in bed.

But he’s sworn you off! And now he’s flirting with you like he didn’t enforce those laws when he caught you speaking to James at their last party.

This boy is making your head spin.

You punch the button to call the elevator, mulling over how to respond. Maybe no response is the best response? You can’t help but feel a little fuzzy at his sweet words, and the thought sours when you realize that he’s probably talking to a multitude of women the same way. You’re not sure you want to go to the party anymore by the time you reach your dorm, not even for your revenge, because there’s no way you want to see any other girls draped all over him all night, but when you open your door, you step into chaos.

The chaos being, your roommate Mor with costumes strewn about the living room, with a wild grin on her face and a tired looking Gwyn trying to hide beneath a pile of fabric on the couch.

“Happy Halloween, bitch! It’s party time!”

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

@saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @mrsjna @velarisdusk @bionic-donut @tenshis-cake @eleganttravelercloud @lilah-asteria @serena05 @bwormie @soph1644 @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125 @judig92 @se7enteen--black-blog @thecraziestcrayon @cherry-cin @itsinherited @justafictionalnerd @bookishbroadwaybish @405rry @itsinherited

[estcaligo]

Nobody: Me at 3 AM: Glorious Masquerade represents the confrontation between polytheistic and monotheistic worldviews

Or "The Big Three of Olympus vs One Christian God" in the Glorious Masquerade event

Content Warning: Greek Mythology, religion, Christianity, Glorious Masquerade event spoilers

Note: I talk about things in this post from a researcher's point of view, in a descriptive and comparative manner mostly. Just some observations.

I've already discussed a similar concept before - Idia, Jade, and Sebek representing Hades, Poseidon, and Zeus, the "Big Three" in Greek mythology, the most powerful and important gods of Olympus - during the Harveston event. See the post here.

However, in the Glorious Masquerade, the situation becomes even more peculiar because the SSR characters are dorm leaders - those who are in charge. And then there's Rollo, who is twisted from Frollo.

Note: I will consider all sources of inspiration for Rollo, including the book and the musical, which were confirmed by Yana herself to be inspirations for Rollo.

What? Why? Who?

3 vs 1. The Big Three of Greek Pantheon vs The One God, who embodies 3 in 1 - the Father, the Son and the Spirit.

The Big Three are the three most powerful gods among the Olympians - Zeus, Poseidon and Hades.

Zeus commands the sky, lightning, kingship and summon any weather conditions.

Poseidon manipulates water, storms and earthquakes.

Hades has dominion over the dead and undead, darkness, earth-related disasters, and metals and jewels.

*By the way, lightning was considered just Zeus throwing a temper tantrum, and what happened when Malleus got angry? Right, he started throwing  lightnings left and right.

And now we have Rollo. Twisted from Frollo, who, as we know was a religious man (especially in the book where he is a priest, not a minister).

And despite there being other characters, such as vice-president and the assistant, they aren't "real" or “important” characters like Rollo.

So we can say there is only one (1) main character in this event.

2. 7 Dorm Leaders vs 1 Head of the Council

As is well known, Ancient Greek mythology features many major gods, each controlling different aspects of life (or representing them, or serving as patrons). This makes Ancient Greek religion a polytheistic system - meaning it has multiple gods - akin to the Great Seven and the dorm system at NRC.

The Dorm Leader Council functions much like a small pantheon. Not to mention NRC is located on upper hills, which resembles a mountain (Olympus) if we look at the landscape of the Sage Island.

On the other hand, Christianity only has one God, making it monotheistic religion. There are multiple saints in Christianity, who are patrons of different aspects of life, however it is important to note that these saints do not control - they are more like the intercessors between man and God.

Even the NBC itself is focused on one Villain and has one statue in the yard, not the 7 (the "pantheon" of NRC). And NBC itself doesn't have Dorm system like NRC.

3. Oral vs Written

Greek religious tradition is primarily oral, with legends and stories passed down through generations by word of mouth.

In contrast, Christianity is predominantly a written religion, where the written canon holds great importance.

How is it important here?

Well, in this event specifically the NRC guys spend their time walking around and commenting on things. We learn some of their lore and thoughts on various topics through dialogue. Even Professor Trein reveals his past verbally telling about it. Naturally, it’s a game mechanism. But since we’re talking about such details….

On the other hand, the most important part of Rollo lore is found by the Big Three in written form - Rollo’s diary.  It's also noted how Rollo prefers writing above all else. He writes in his diary, sends letters, and drafts invitations. While this may not apply to the NBC in general, since we're focusing on Rollo, this detail is worth considering as well.

4. Our guys vs That One

Another difference between the two religions is that the Greek gods had flaws that made them more similar to humans. They had tempers and they often held grudges. This made the followers of the religion not want to be like them but, instead learn from them and their shortcomings, frequently through fear. 

In contrast to the flawed gods of Greek mythology, Jesus is portrayed as a man who is to be aspired to, more so than the Greek portrayal of a god; who the audience learns from (imitating in a way), rather than obeys.

Our NRC boys are someone we know and who we’re familiar with. We know their struggles and fears, their dark past. Even the guys in charge of each dorm - the Dorm Leaders - are not so distant from the regular students. Well, more of less.

Whereas Rollo is described by all the characters we’ve met at NBC (and even from his vignette) as someone who is amazing, excellent, wonderful and so…exemplementry. Rollo, at the same time, distances himself from everyone.

5. Vertical vs Horizontal

A small but interesting observation is that many monotheistic religions, including Christianity, often have a “vertical mindset” - symbolizing a relationship between the human and God.

In Christian cosmology, we often imagine a vertical world structure: Hell at the bottom, the human realm in the middle, and Heaven above.

In this event, we also experience vertical movement when things get serious. Initially, when it's peaceful and fun, we mostly walk around the town (mostly horizontal, not including the lower parts).

However, when the action begins, Rollo first sends us downward into the sewers. From there, we start moving upward. The ascent of the tower is highly symbolic, as we are literally ascending towards the sky where Rollo awaits us (with his “judgment”)

 6. Masks

The whole masquerade theme is, of course, a nod to the cartoon and part of the game feature to get the characters to dress up.

But let’s remember that in Ancient Greece, masks played a significant role in theater, particularly in tragedies and comedies (twst features elements of both). In general, it is known that masks represent hidden nature, transformation, and more. 

Interestingly, only our NRC squad wears masks and costumes. We even encountered some Royal Sword Academy students, but they were not given costumes (again, a game feature, but still noteworthy).

On the other hand, there's Rollo, who isn't wearing a mask or even a costume. He doesn’t need to. He is who he is, with no need to transform into something else, as he represents the One, in our comparison here. 

What's even more interesting is that, despite not wearing a physical mask, Rollo is the one with ulterior motives in this event, and we only learn his true face later on. He metaphorically takes the mask off, even though he never wore one in the literal sense.

7. Catholic Guilt

The last but not least - Rollo's punishment, which, perhaps is the most fitting and cruel outcome for him. Rollo, after being defeated, expects harsh punishment because he is ruthless with himself and assumes others will treat him the same way. He failed and he expects to be punished. However our Big Three surprise him by concealing the truth and allowing others (the NBC mobs were the first to thank him for his bravery at the tower) to believe that Rollo was a hero. This situation forces Rollo into a state of internal torment, where he must live with the guilt of his actions while being praised for something he didn't truly do.

Rollo's punishment is psychological, forcing him to confront his guilt and shame in isolation. They choose leave him one on one with his Sin.

On the contrast, in Ancient Greek mythology punishments were often cruel and involved physical pain. One of the most popular example would be of course the myth about Prometheus, which, by the way involved Zeus.

And the way Big Three dealt with Rollo was truly cruel in its own way.

(from an interesting article about Greek Gods and punishment - here)

Fin

I left out some obvious notes like Malleus having horns, Rollo hating on magic etc.

Naturally, there may be other details I haven’t mentioned, so feel free to add any additional insights!

[tc-doherty]

TC's Practical Writing Tips

Like I said before, I'm not gonna sit here and pretend that I can teach anyone how to write – that's a level of hubris even I'm not capable of –but in honor of my rapidly approaching ~quarter century of writing original fiction anniversary~, I did figure I would share the tips that I live by when it comes to the act of writing.

So without further ado:

Write it now, fix it later

2. It is always permissible – and usually enjoyable – to write the stupidest possible version

3. "Inspiration" is great for poets, but poison for people who write prose

3.1: if you want to write often, you need to write often, and then you will find that you don't need to be "inspired" because you will have made a habit of it and it will come naturally 3.2: even one sentence a day is still one sentence a day. And even one sentence a week is still one sentence a week. It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop 3.3: believing in the concept that you need to be inspired to write will trap you into believing in the concept of writer's block 3.4: if you are having difficulty getting out words that satisfy you, lower your standards and keep writing (see point one)

4. A few months down the line you will not remember which words came easily and which words did not

5. It is always permissible to set a project aside for now, or forever, if you need a break

6. Read widely and often, both in your favorite genres and outside of them

6.1: pay special attention to both things that you love and things that you hate - study them, engage with them, learn what makes yourself tick and your writing can only get stronger

7. Never write for the lowest common denominator, via wise words I once heard: "if you open the window and make love to the world, your story will get pneumonia", have an audience in mind and the people who like what you write will find it

8. Never write for the bad faith critic, those people will always exist and you will need to deal with them at some point if you put your writing in the world, but they don't matter and you cannot live in fear of them

9. It's fine and normal to want engagement and praise, however you must find a way to make the act of writing joyful in and of itself – make the praise the cherry on top, not the entire sunday

9.1: writing is hard work, and it's a lot of work, if you lose the ability to enjoy the journey and are proceeding only for external rewards from others, you will gradually write less and less if the ratio of work to rewards is unsatisfying

10. For anything other than final copy editing, always write a new draft into a new document, or else the words you have already written will trap you from being able to make large, sweeping changes

10.1: any change you make will invariably snowball, and you must give space for that snowball to roll

11. If someone tells you that something doesn't work for them, believe them, because people know what they like. But if people try to tell you what to do to fix it, take that with an entire serving of salt because you are the author, not them

12. It is always morally correct to look at a critique that you received, even if you asked for opinions via beta reading, and decide that it's bullshit and doesn't apply to you

13. "write what you know" means "write what you're interested in"

14. "Show don't tell" applies to screenwriting, not novels. This is the thing that drives me the most insane every time I see it. Novels are words on a page, not images on a screen. They require a lot of telling. Not all telling, but a lot of telling. Become comfortable with that.

15. It is always, ALWAYS acceptable to use "said", do not listen to the lies of others

16. Have fun, do it out of love and you will never go astray

17. Become comfortable with who you are. Your work is always going to be yours and it is always going to sound like you wrote it, and this is a good thing! No one else is ever going to write exactly like you, and you should be proud of that

17.1: the concept of "originality" is vastly overrated, every culture has some version of Cinderella and we still love it. Your writing is yours because you wrote it, and it will always be unique because of that

[flametrashiraarchive]

hi there!! could I request a sanemi x reader where the reader is either taken or severely injured by a demon?? I am a SLUT for a good protective angst to fluff so you may take any and all creative liberties🤭🤭

Argh this hurt so good haha. Poor 'Nemi 😭 thank you for your ask! I hope you enjoy it!

Cw for you being badly injured, blood, swearing, being in a coma. No sex, just pain and suffering (with a happy ending)

Sanemi Shinazugawa x injured reader

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" Sanemi presses his hand firmly to your stomach to stem the bleeding. "Not you. Not you too. You're not fucking leaving me, understand?"

His heart is pounding in his chest, his blood running cold. The demon who injured you is already dead, but if it wasn't Sanemi would kill it all over again and again and again. How fucking dare that monster do this to you? He wants to tear it apart.

"Talk to me. Say something, goddamn it." His voice cracks as he begs you. 

You're barely clinging to consciousness as you reach up and caress his face, accidentally smearing your blood across his cheek. "'Nemi… it's okay."

"No it's not fucking okay, moron."

And then you pass out, and he realizes those are the last words he may ever say to you. 

It's his fault. All of it. 

If he'd fought harder, been firmer with you about you staying home for this mission, taken out both demons instead of trusting you to deal with one of them. If only if only if only. 

Sanemi's life has been plagued with if onlys. He presses his forehead to yours and prays. Who he is praying to, he has no idea… you, the gods, Buddah, death itself… anyone who'll listen.

"Please, please, please. Not you. Not you." 

Hot tears roll down his cheeks as he keeps applying pressure to your wound. His kasugai crow is on its way to bring help. All he can do is hold in your guts and plead.

"Don't leave me alone."

He puts his cheek against yours so his lips are by your ear. "I'll marry you. I'll treat you like goddamn royalty. I'll do anything, just stay. Stay with me." His voice breaks. "Stay. With. Me. Please!"

He doesn't let go. Even when the medical squad comes to help, he keeps the pressure on your wound until they pull him off. And then he holds your hand. He holds it the entire way to the butterfly mansion. He holds it as they operate and put you in a bed to recover, as the doctors come and tell him things he can't understand. All he cares about is whether or not you'll survive. 

Why won't you wake up??

It doesn't matter if you have to rest for months: he'll take care of you while you're bedridden and make sure you take your medicines exactly on time. It doesn't matter if you'll struggle with training for a while: he'll kick your ass all the way through rehab and make you even stronger. He'll change dressings, cook, clean, anything. 

Just…

"Come back to me," he whispers, holding your hand to his forehead as the sun sets on the fifteenth day of your coma. "Wake up, please." 

He's sleeping when you finally do.

Your vision slowly refocuses to find him resting his head on the bed beside your arm, his hand still wrapped around yours. He stirs as you run your fingers through his fluffy white hair, a faint, sleepy smile curving his lips before he snaps back to consciousness and bolts upright.

The force with which he hugs you damn near knocks you into another coma. 

"Don't do that again," he whispers. "You hear me?"

It hurts, but you smile. "I love you too."

He buries his face against your neck and holds you tight, unwilling to ever let you slip away again.

[zeawesomebirdie]

Superbat Fake Dating + Identity Porn Rec List

Thanks to @jourquet for asking for this!! I hope you find something here to read!! (And paging @steine-druff as promised!)

These are in no particular order, but generally organised by trope. I tend to read longfic as a general rule, so these recs will reflect that :) the titles contain links to each fic.

Fake Dating

1. A Common Misconception by rotasha; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 91,114 words; 21 chapters; complete

Summary:

When Bruce Wayne comes out, he accidentally becomes the poster child of bisexuality and realizes his lifestyle of sleeping around needs to come to an end. Clark, being the supportive friend that he is, volunteers to pretend to date him for a year.

You know the rest.

This fic has everything that one could want in fake dating: idiots in love, mutual pining, one bed, fake vacations, miscommunication. It also really captures the superbat dynamic of trusting and yes and-ing each other, even when they probably didn't need to be!

(And if you like this fic, any of rotasha's other works are just as good! I've got a few more of them in this list too)

2. over this threshold by orphean; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 59,283 words; 7 chapters; complete

Summary:

'I don't understand how tax evasion relates to you going on a date with, do I need to remind you, Bruce Wayne.'

Clark bit his tongue.

'We're going to get married. It's a tax break, not tax evasion.'

'Are you kidding me.' Lois stared. 'That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.'

———

Bruce asks Clark to marry him for tax reasons. Clark, against his better judgment, agrees.

Exactly what it says on the tin. Some highlights include Bruce buying Clark ridiculously expensive suits, Clark taking forever to tell his mom what's going on, and of course the wedding itself which was just delightful, with speeches from Lois, Alfred, and Dick that had me crying.

3. A Rich Man's Game by malicegreres; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 63,942 words; 13 chapters; complete

Summary:

The editorial staff of the Daily Planet, currently owned by Bruce Wayne, is trying to organize a labor union. Clark can't explain to his coworkers why he can't participate without jeopardizing the campaign—or tell Batman why he's been so cagey around him lately. When Bruce finds out what's been going on, Clark recruits him to resolve his conflict of interest in the only way Clark can think of: by pretending to date him.

This fic is truly glorius. Of all the ways Clark could have solved this problem, he chose the most convoluted. And surprise surprise, it works!

4. mission parameters by shipyrds; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 33,394 words; 6 chapters; complete

Summary:

"Bruce." Clark turns towards him, leaning back against a bank of consoles. "We're not actually going undercover. We don't need an elaborate backstory– if anything, it'll be harder to keep straight. It doesn't have to be complicated." He spreads his hands. "Here's a story: we're members of the same elite fighting force. After years of saving each other's lives in the field, we fell in love. That's it."

Bruce swallows past the almost-truth of it. In Clark's warm smooth radio voice, it sounds plausible. It sounds like something that could happen.

—

Bruce and Clark pretend to be married for diplomatic reasons. When they return to Earth, things are a little different.

Of all the things that normally Bruce says, Clark is the one to insist on a simple coverstory. And of course, from such simple things spirals out a whole entire adventure that doesn't stop just because the mission is over! This fic features a domesticity that neither of them knew they needed until they had it

5. tell all the truth (but tell it slant) by susiecarter [@susiecarter on tumblr]; rated M; no archive warnings apply; 33,007 words; 1 chapter; complete

Summary:

It takes a while for Batman and Superman to work things out, once Clark comes back from the dead. Pretending to date each other in order to explain why Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are in the same place so often? Doesn't help as much as you might think.

*slapping this fic like that one meme with the car* this fic can fit so much miscommunication into it, it's truly delightful to read!! Also, yet another fic where Clark fails to mention what's going on to his mother. And of course the constant worrying about each other without actually expressing it, which is truly such a golden trope when it comes to these two!

I'm adding a cut here because this is already very long and we are still only just starting, so click the read more to see the rest ^.^

6. there ain't no star that shines by amosangius [@amosanguis on tumblr]; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 11,713 words; 1 chapter; complete

Summary:

“I'm not the same person I was back in high school,” Clark says, “and I doubt they all are, either. What would be the point?”

“Oh, Clark,” Bruce is suddenly holding Clark's face with both of his hands, “the point is that I'm going to land us in a helicopter somewhere for all your classmates to see.”

Clark sighs and closes his eyes.

“Say 'yes', Clark,” Bruce orders.

Clark doesn't open his eyes, just says, “Yes, Clark.”

If you thought Bruce buying Clark expensive suits just for their fake dates was excessive, you ain't seen nothing yet!! This fic also features casual bed sharing (and so many references to casual intimacy oh my goodness it's lovely), Bruce Wayne being Rich As Fuck, and Bruce casually being overprotective of Clark in social situations

7. my heart is an open wound by yukla [@yuebings on tumblr]; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 13,367 words; 1 chapter; complete

“—I’ll see you kneel again,” Luthor is hissing, eyes hungry, and Clark is swaying back in discomfort—and as Lois checks their surroundings again, she notices that Wayne is still standing across the room, staring uselessly, as though he believes the sheer force of his murderous gaze would be enough to laser-blast Luthor into oblivion.

Jesus Christ, Lois thinks. I have to do everything around here.

5 times a Daily Planet employee protects Clark Kent, and 1 time Clark Kent protects the Daily Planet.

Or: Clark's coworkers watch as he fake-dates his crush with limited success.

It is probably obvious by now that miscommunication and Bruce's emotions getting in the way of everything are two of my favourite things to read. All of Clark's coworkers are the best, and once again Clark is a self-sacrificing idiot (affectionate)

8. flash in the pan by shipyrds; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 15,951 words; 3 chapters; complete

Summary:

Here’s the thing. Clark does understand. Superman and Batman are fucking. Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne are not. Clark can handle this. He keeps parts of his life separate all the time.

It’s possible, Clark thinks, as he glares at a lurid tabloid cover of Bruce’s latest scandalous yacht party in the grocery store checkout aisle, that he can’t handle this.

—

At the Wayne Foundation's annual holiday party, things come to a head.

Okay there is so much I want to say about this fic and yet there are no words that could possibly express just how incredible it is. Bruce coming up with the worst case scenario for literally everything? Check. Clark agreeing to fake date even though he's majorly head over heels and this will likely end in flames? Check. Ma Kent giving the best relationship advice ever? Check. Dick yelling at Bruce when he tries to self sabotage again? Check. Truly one of the best fucking-but-still-pining fics I've ever read!

9. Operation Sponsalia by Brenda [@brendaonao3 on tumblr]; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 13,610 words; 1 chapter; complete

Summary:

"When did you first realize you were in love with me?"

Bruce coughs up his wine.

"I mean, in this...whatever this is," Clark clarifies, blushing to the roots of his hair. "I don't think you're really — I mean, I know this isn't —"

"It's alright." Bruce's voice is raspy, but steady. "I know what you mean."

Clark's glad one of them does.

Or: Bruce and Clark have to fake an engagement for ~reasons — featuring a metric ton of very romantic dates, enough floral arrangements to start a flower shop, SO MANY puns, and Clark finally getting to know the real Bruce. :D

Clark doesn't find out that Bruce said to the press that they had been dating long enough to be teasing enagagements until after it's already been said. Was there a better way to explain why Bruce just happened to help save the Kent family farm? Absolutely. And yet they follow through on it anyway, and I love it for them

10. Sham-pagne by ChrisLeon; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 8,248 words; 1 chapter; complete

Summary:

Superman is spotted visiting Wayne Manor, prompting speculation about how exactly he knows Bruce Wayne. To protect their secret identities, they need a plausible explanation and it seems easy enough to go along with the tabloid theory that they’re sleeping together. All they have to do is pretend to be in a relationship until the speculation dies down and then they can break up move on.

Or: Superman fake-dates Bruce Wayne, we all know how this ends.

This one was fascinating to me because instead of Clark and Bruce dating, it's Superman and Bruce dating, and let me just say I'm so incredibly hinged about it!! I think there is so much potential in that particular version of their dynamic, and this fic was such a beautiful exploration of it!

11. Speaking in Code by Mithen; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 7,459 words; 1 chapter; complete

Summary:

Clark and Bruce must go undercover at a newlywed resort to try and stop an assassination attempt. Hijinks, UST, and reluctant making out ensue.

First of all, Mithen is a superbat master. Pick any fic of theirs and it will be delightful. Second of all, I could write an entire essay about how much I adore the way they go from irritable about this mission to incredibly enthuasiastic over the course of their two days at the resort, but then we'd be here all day so: if you like banter, one bed, and a case fic this is a brilliant read

12. Kind Truths by Mawiiish [@superbattrash on tumblr]; rated G; creator chose not to use archive warnings; 6,478 words; 1 chapter; complete

Summary:

Bruce needs help with an undercover mission. Clark can never say no to him even though he probably should before he does something stupid. Like tell Bruce he's in love with him.

--

“Why me?” Clark can’t help but ask. He tries his very best to keep his voice level, to not sound as desperate as he feels.

“Because I need someone there to watch my back,” Bruce says, a little exasperated. He really shouldn’t have to explain this to Clark of all people, it’s not like they haven’t been on missions together before.

“I get that, but what about Diana? Shayera?” Anyone who doesn’t have a big fat crush on Bruce would do.

Is it obvious I have a thing for Clark agreeing to fake dating despite his big crush on Bruce? This fic is glorious, and features delights such as Bruce metaphorically putting his foot in his mouth, Clark wanting nothing more than to defend Bruce's honor, and one of the most beautiful confession scenes I've ever had the pleasure of reading

13. where i come from by soetry [@soetrys on tumblr]; E; no archive warnings apply; 52,494 words; 11 chapters; complete

Summary:

Bruce doesn’t have a soulmark, and Clark doesn’t have a soulmark, on an Earth where everyone has a soulmark. Somewhere in there is a simple solution. Somewhere to that solution is an overcomplicated journey. Surely two of the world’s leading superheroes will not take the overcomplicated route?

Surely not?

This one is a little bit of both. The identity porn in this was really well done - Dick is a massive Superman fan, Bruce is unimpressed with both Superman and Clark Kent, and it all goes downhill from there (affectionate). Highlights also include Bruce using a dubiously legal site to crossreference soulmarks, him getting the Superman crest tattooed on his wrist using Kyrptonian tech, and Clark being a self-sacrificing idiot. This is also one of the best soulmate AUs I've ever read!!

Identity Porn

1. Get Over It by rotasha; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 32,378 words; 3 chapters; complete

Summary:

Bruce needs to get over his inconvenient feelings for Superman and he meets an attractive reporter who he thinks can help him do just that. Little does he know...

Of all the identity porn I've read, this is one of the best! Bruce dating Clark to get over Superman is one of the best things ever and this fic really does a good job of their dynamic!

2. Lost Time Without You by rotasha; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 68,792 words; 21 chapters; complete

Summary:

In a universe where your soulmate’s injuries show up on your skin, Bruce is convinced he doesn’t have a soulmate, and Clark is seriously concerned for his soulmate’s well-being.

This was my introduction to soulmate!AUs and oh my goodness it was spectacular! The build up to the reveal of their identities was brilliantly done, and the chance encounters that pepper through the lead up to that point were captivating. This fic also features Bruce being a good parent and I really love that for him

3. the cost of being a good dad by Mawiiish [@superbattrash on tumblr]; rated T; creator chose not to use archive warnings; 95,533 words; 10 chapters; complete

Summary:

Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian are all tired of watching Bruce struggle with the stress of trying to handle the newly formed Justice League. He needs an outlet, he needs to relax, he needs to get out of the house, he needs... he needs to start dating. And what he doesn't know won't hurt him, right?

--

“Excuse me, I don’t know who you think I am, but I think there’s been a mistake.”

“Bruce, right?” the guy says, albeit less confidently this time. He looks slightly concerned and if Bruce is not mistaken… a tad embarrassed. “Bruce Wayne? You look just like your pictures.”

“My pictures?” Something finally clicks in Bruce’s mind, and he takes a small step back and plasters a smile on his face as to not rouse suspicion. Stalker. “Ah, of course, I’m sorry but I’m late for an appointment.”

This fic features the batkids catfishing Clark on Bruce's behalf, Bruce being a good parent, and the utter chaos of miscommunication that can only come from these two being idiots! It was a delightful read, and of course the batfam in action is always a joy!

4. ship-to-ship combat by pomeloquat; rated M; no archive warnings apply; 62,737 words; 12/13 chapters; incomplete

Summary:

"Clark. What the hell is this," Lois asks, staring at Clark's Bruceman WIP folder. Clark's first instinct is to fly away, but that would still leave his fic on display for her to see. His second instinct is to blast a hole straight through his laptop screen with his heat vision, which isn't much better.

Clark, in an attempt to make some spare cash, unintentionally stumbles into the world of superhero fanfiction, becomes a prolific writer for Gotham's OTP, and tries his best to fend off rival fans who want him to convert to superbat instead.

Oh my goodness okay. Where to start with this fic. First of all, Clark writing Batman/Bruce Wayne fanfiction is such a brilliant concept. Then add to that the fact that Clark is secretly crushing on Batman at the same time, and the entire comedy of a trainwreck is a delight to witness!

5. I'm Not As Think As You Drunk I Am by Mardiaz173; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 12,920 words; 3 chapters; complete

It was like living in the Twilight Zone. Everyone else believed fervently in Bruce Wayne’s reputation. He was a flirty, stupid, and entitled drunk whose only redeeming quality was his bleeding heart. And yet every time Clark spoke with Wayne, the man was clever, mischievous, and sober with an indecipherable ulterior motive.

And no one believed Clark. Not Lois, not his parents, not even Batman.

Clark insisting upon defending Bruce to everyone much to everyone's dismay is one of my favourite superbat tropes ever, and this fic really does it well! And of course, this fic also features Batman shit talking Bruce, which is always a joy to see!

6. Don't Quote Me by metropolisjournal [@metropolisjournal on tumblr]; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 77,131 words; 20/21 chapters; incomplete

Summary:

Bruce Wayne has weathered scandal before, and Wayne Enterprises can handle another publicity crisis. What Bruce can’t handle is one crashing up against his plans to infiltrate Lex’s estate. Set during Batman v. Superman.

This was the fix-it for Batman vs Superman that I didn't know I needed until I read it. The identity reveal was so incredibly well written, and the whole fic was stupendous from the very first chapter!

And that's all for now! I hope you find something in here to read, may you enjoy!!