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

[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!

[peachesofteal]

Simon with herding instinct on that physio snippet.... God what I'd do to be Reader (I'm not sick but I'm KO by my period, so I think I also deserve herding instincts and a cup of tea made by someone who is not me)

I think you deserve a little treat for your body torturing you Same reader as this (female reader)

"Fuck." You draw a deep breath through your nose and blow it out slowly, trying to push the pain away. You have a busy schedule today, and the 141 was expected to be back which meant you'd have the Lieutenant on your table at some point between now and twenty one hundred.

You do not have time for period pain.

Your appointments waltz in and out through the day, your focus turning from the stabbing, burning ache in your belly, quads and lower back, until the clock finally ticks down to nineteen hundred, and you slump over in your chair. A moment's reprieve, a second to get off your feet, exhaustion sinking into you, your longing for your bed and a heating pad stealing the whole of your attention. You can almost feel it, the hot shower, the comfort of your sheets, a cup of tea. Almost.

For now, you swallow more paracetamol and hope it lasts you through the rest of the day.

The door to the clinic swings open, and you don't need to peek outside the door of your office to know who it is.

No one has footsteps as heavy as his.

The Lieutenant.

The man you do not understand. The one who treated you like a small, fragile animal when you were sick, barging into your house and forcing you onto the couch, doling out medicine and hand feeding you warm broth. He pressed cold cloths to your forehead, held your hair and rubbed your back as you vomited.

The entire time you trembled with nerves, staring at the stitching of his balaclava, looking away each time his face turned towards yours. He hated you, why was he here?

Your fever broke, he disappeared. And the next time you saw him-

He went back to treating you just as he always did.

Coldly. Gruffly. Rudely.

Tonight would be no different.

So when you step outside and see him still in his full kit, arms folded across his chest, you wilt, already defeated, stomach tying itself in knots.

"Need m'back looked at." He barks and you fight the instinct to jump.

"Yeah, o-of course." The words are unsteady, you're unsteady, just like each time before, and he doesn't say anything else, just looks you up and down before brushing by you to get to the table.

He's the width of your workspace. Wingspan larger than should be humanly possible, width of his shoulders and back difficult to comprehend. He could tear you apart, if he wanted, so you've always treated him so carefully, staying focused, making sure you don't slip up and push his muscles too far or cause him pain. It's the same care you apply to all your patients, but with him, it's different. It's like diffusing a bomb.

His head is turned towards you as your fingers walk down the middle of his spine, working pressure points. Every time he twitches, or grunts, or even breathes deeply, you tense, but you keep your focus, kneading down to his sciatic nerve, pushing in deep, deep enough to make him groan, your heartbeat pulsing in your ears.

You don't even realize he's saying your name until he shifts on the table.

"S-sorry?" His eyes are locked the space between your legs, and you follow his sight line, gasping when you see what he sees.

Red.

Your standard issue khaki pants are stained dark red at your thighs.

"Oh my god. Oh my god, I'm sorry, I'm," you stumble backwards, hands flying to cover yourself, scrambling on how to get yourself out of the room and into the bathroom as quickly as possible. Your cheeks burn from humiliation. "I'm sorry, I uh- I'll be right back."

"Do you have another pair of pants?" He cocks his head.

I don't... I don't think so."

"Hmm." He continues to stare, and then, like he was having a conversation with himself, he swings off the table, reaching for the jacket he showed up in, before stalking towards you.

You stumble back, but you're too slow, and he catches you by your wrist, tugging you forward. You close your eyes. "Lieutenant-"

"Hush." The jacket goes around your waist, giant sleeves tied at your navel, the length of the hanging directly over where your pants are stained. You're not petite by any means, so the fact that this garment can even begin to cover you is a miracle in itself. But then again, he is massive. "Stay." He moves around the room, ducking into the other one with your desk, flicking the lights off, before grabbing the keys off the hook and shepherding you through the clinic to the front door.

"What... what're you doing?" There's a murderous look in his eye when he turns to you, and it freezes your blood.

"Takin' you home."

"I can get h-home myself." You hate the way your voice shakes.

"Covered in blood? You really want the entire base to see you like tha'?" The shame burns, and tears build on your waterline. "C'mon." His hand settles between your shoulder blades, essentially turning you into a ship with no sails, only a rudder at your back. Him.

He steers you into your house by your hips. You live directly off base, in civilian housing, luckiest of them all, if you're being honest, though in this moment, you're not sure you are so lucky.

"Leave your clothes in the sink." He orders when he lets you go, moving towards the kitchen.

"My clothes?"

"You know how to get bloodstains out of your clothes?"

"Oh, uh... n-no."

"Then..." he motions with his hands for your pants.

"Right now?" You squeak, and he nods.

"Now, pet." You fumble with the zipper and the button, hands trembling so bad you struggle with them. "Need help?"

"No! No... I got it." you get them down to your knees after a struggle, and then kick them off. Will he ask for your underwear too? He answers like he can ready your mind.

"Leave 'em on the bathroom floor. Shower, and then straight to bed."

"I'm not a child!" The protest is bold, boldest you've ever been with him, insecure, scared feelings coming forth in the outburst.

"Could've fooled me. Children need takin' care of, jus' like you." The words jam in your throat, stolen by the intensity of a cramp, and his eyes soften. "Go on up. I'll bring you somethin' for the pain, and some tea." There's no fight left in you, drained like the blood from your body, and your shoulders slump.

An hour later, in the dark, your door cracks. You're curled up in a ball, heating pad tucked against your pubic bone, buried beneath a mountain of blankets when the bed dips, the mass of the Lieutenant's weight settling next to your hip.

He sits you up, like a doll. Makes you take more paracetamol, finish a glass of water, and then pushes a hot tea in your hand.

By the time he's done, you slump back against the pillows, exhausted. Your eyelids go heavy, and he shifts you back to your side. You're too tired to argue with him, fight him, and when his fingers start applying counter pressure to your lower back, working through the tension, the tightness from your period, you let out a low moan. He chuckles. The man actually laughs.

"Why are you here?" You murmur in the dark, and he doesn't answer right away, sitting in the silence for too long.

And then-

"My mum always taught me to take care of my things."

[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.

[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]

[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.

[azullumi]

can i request ayato, alhaitham and diluc that likes treating their s/o like princess?

summary — two words: princess treatment.

characters — ayato, alhaitham, diluc (w/ fem!reader)

tags — fluff, established relationship; headcanons

word count — 900+

note — i want to be treated like a princess too.

KAMISATO AYATO

"Princess, come here. I have something to give you."

There are only a few things you could say, first, he loves to spoil you a lot by giving you expensive gifts and adorning you with beautiful jewelry that he thinks looks beautiful on you and second, he's over the top protective of you, often having people like guards to watch and accompany you when you go outside because he fears for the danger you might encounter—oh dear, having such a relationship with him could lead to having threats linger around you and he could never be too careless or careful when it comes your safety so he's always wary and worrying for you.

You are one of his priorities and the top of it all because what's even more important than you? Nothing. His paperworks? It's either he finishes them on the instant or he puts them aside for later just so he could be with you—nothing will ever get in the way of his desire of being with you. The moment you ask for his attention or time, he'll drop everything all at once and give you what you want.

He pays for everything that you want and need as money was never an issue for him. Anything that you ask for or anything that you say looks pretty? He'll get it for you, anything for his pretty princess. Sometimes, when he notices you fixating on an item or object, showing clear interest in it, you'll have it by your hands the next day.

He also loves to pamper and spoil you with kisses—if not on your lips, it could be on your forehead, on the back of your hand as he greets you, or on your cheek as he whispers an 'I love you'.

He is proud to have you stand by his side and holding his hand and so he makes sure that you feel special and cherished by him, loved and doted on in every moment that he can, and conveying his intense feelings of affection for you in that way.

ALHAITHAM

"You know I don't like seeing you having a hard time so let me do it for you, pretty."

The type to never let you open doors on your own and so as long as he's around you, you will never touch a door handle. This applies to anything and maybe just everything—he never lets you do anything on your own if he's around and would only make you sit back and relax as he does all the work because, just like what he had said, he doesn't want to see you getting tired, exhausted, or suffering in general.

He loves doing anything for you and when I mean anything, it's really every single thing. He fulfills every wish of yours that you had told him and would go such lengths just to do so because why not? Nothing can and ever will stop him. He will practically do anything as you say and if it's to see you smile because of him or something that he did, he will gladly do so.

His personality always causes him to get into arguments with other people and have such banters and debates with them but not with you, not when it comes to you as the two of you never got into a fight. He could never and never will he make you feel upset, angry, or especially hurt because of something that he said or did. Thus he is careful with the way he handles things, his actions, and words, and has proper communication with you.

He pays attention and listens to everything that you say, trying everything and his best so he could understand and sympathize with what you feel, and occasion lending solutions and help if you ask him to.

He loves you and makes sure that you know it by treating you with respect and adoration in his gentle caresses and sweet words. He assures you that you're the only one he will ever want because compared to others, you are poetry itself that is beautifully written by the greatest while they are merely words.

DILUC RAGNVINDR

"My princess looks so beautiful as always, how about you come and give me a kiss?"

Words of compliments, praises, and everything easily slips out of his lips whenever he sees you—often whispering sweet nothings to your ear—whether it's the first time for that day or the 11th time he glanced at your direction and saw you. Professional in such fluttering remarks, you'll think it was like a language that he was fluent in. Honestly, if he could worship the ground that you walk on, he definitely will.

Has he told you he loves you for the 5th time that day? If not, there it is and if yes, then you'll have your 6th. He even has a set of affectionate endearments on the tip of his tongue, always calling you princess and sweetheart. He pampers you in every way that he can and he is not shy to show his admiration for you whether it's through both verbally or physically. He just desires and wants to remind you that you're greatly adored by him and that he's happy to be with you.

The two of you could go shopping, going from one store to another, or go to a place with beautiful scenery on times that he will take you out. He arranges dates which are either a surprise for you or not, takes you out on dinners to the restaurant you like, and trips to anywhere you want, no matter how far that place is as long as you like it and as long as he's with you.

He is good with his hands and is an expert when it comes to massaging which you occasionally experience from him since he offers to do so, stating that he wants you to feel relaxed and good.

For him, it is amazing to have met such a beautiful, sweet, and wonderful person like you in his life and he ensures that he expresses his gratitude and love for you in ways that you'll understand and appreciate, in ways that you'll cherish and be happy with as much as he feels towards you.

navigation | masterlist

[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!!

[ponderingmoonlight]

Satoru Gojo trying to make a bun with his daughter's kinky hair

Pairing: husband!Gojo x black!reader

Word Count: 1,1k

Synopsis: It always looked so easy to him, the way you put your thick hair into the most breathtaking hairstyles. But when his daughter asked him to do a sleek bun on her, he was confronted with the stinging fact how difficult styling kinky hair can be. But that doesn't stop the dad of the year from learning...

Warnings: This is the first time ever I'm writing a black reader and I'm beyond excited 😭 I'm hoping with all my heart that you guys like what I came up with! I'm not a poc myself so if this offends you, don't read this work. Also, I'm writing from the point of view of my own research and the tellings of my beloved moot @almostshinymiracle. As usual, there's many ways to do your hair and this specific one might not be yours 🤍

Comments, likes and reblogs are so appreciated, I'd be more than thankful for you guys telling me what you think - THANK YOU 🤍

Your eyes widen when the loud shriek of your daughter echoes through your house. What’s wrong? Did she hurt herself while playing? As fast as your feet carry you, you run down the hallway and open the door to her room.

But no, your daughter didn’t fall, she didn’t hurt herself. She sits in front of her dad who holds a brush in his hand.

“Hey honey, is everything alright over here?”, you question softly while kneeling down next to both of them.

“I’m so sorry. She said she wants a bun like the one you wear so often and I thought it can’t be that hard. But the brush doesn’t even get through her hair…”, your husband explains, bright blue eyes fixated on his daughter’s hair.

“It’s not that simple with kinky hair, babe. Look, the bristles of your brush are way too tight to get through her hair. That’s why I’m having a special one.”

Oh, how absolutely adorable he looks with his face visibly in guilt, still holding onto the brush that seems to be his while visibly pondering about your soft explanation. Making your daughter’s hair as a dad without experience has to be difficult already, but a girl with black roots and a hair structure completely unknown to him? You chuckle to yourself, remember the countless times he observed you doing your hair already.

“This seems so damn exhausting, babe. Can’t you just…brush it?”

“If I just brush it, I’ll look like a mop. That’s the price I have to pay for having kinky hair I guess.”

“But you look like a princess. My princess”, he purred into your ear while his long fingers tried to brush through your thick hair.

“She just asked me and as her dad…I just wanted to help, y’know”, he mumbles with a pout.

“And I’m so proud of you for trying, Satoru. It’s just an art itself and if you didn’t grow up with it, it’s quite difficult. Sometimes not even hairstylists are able to tame my and her hair from time to time. No worries, I’ll do her hair and I’ll show you how it’s done when there’s enough time, okay?”

You can’t help but give him a kiss on his cheek, letting yourself fall into his arms.

“Mommy, can you do my hair?”, your daughter interrupts your way too short cuddle session.

“Of course, angel. We’ll be ready in 10 minutes, Satoru. Don’t worry about it-“

“My name is baby”, he corrects you before leaving the room, his shoulders almost hanging to the floor.

This doesn’t sit right with you. It shouldn’t hurt him like this that he wasn’t able to do his daughter’s hair when it’s absolute not comparable to his very own. Mindlessly, you run your fingers through her thick mane that is so similar to yours, so familiar that you’d be able to make a sleek bun with eyes closed. You’ll definitely show him how to take care of his daughter’s hair when there’s more time than today.

“Is daddy sad?”, your daughter asks innocently while you apply gel.

“He was so excited to do your hair, honey. But with kinky hair like ours, this can be really difficult, you know?”

“It hurt…”, she admits shyly.

“Did it hurt as much as doing braids?”

Your little daughter chuckles while you tickle her playfully on her neck.

-the next day-

The heartfelt laughter of your daughter makes your eyes flutter open. What time is it? Given the fact that the sun already rose, it has to be late in the morning. Your naked feet meet the cold wooden floor, carry you to her room on their own. Satoru’s side of the bed was already cold when you woke up. Did he have to leave for a mission? Or is he the reason why his precious little daughter laughs?

“Okay, let me remove the scarf from your cute little head. Is this how mommy does your hair?”

You stop in your tracks, already grinning from ear to ear like an idiot. A scarf wrapped around her daughter’s head? You know exactly what that means.

“That tickles!”, your daughter shrieks.

“Shhh, don’t you wake up Mommy before I’m done here, okay? I want this to be a surprise.”, Satoru whispers exaggeratedly mute.

It takes all your strength to not break out in laughter, to stay hidden behind the slightly open door.  

“Okay, now let me wrap this around it…and…Fast, I need a bobby pin, honey!”

Your heart almost overflows with warmth. When did he learn how to do his daughter’s hair, what steps it takes to create a sleek bun with kinky hair? It’s hard to keep you from entering the room, to keep your composure. The urge to see what he’s doing becomes almost unbearable-

“Did you hear that daddy?”

“Yeah, that sounded almost as if someone behind that door stalks us!”

With a swift motion, your husband exposes you to his bright blue orbs. Your heart skips a beat. Is he mad, disappointed? The look on his face is rather amused, calms down your tingling nerves.

Until you look at your daughter.

Your precious little daughter with a perfect sleek bun.

“Oh my”, you breathe out.

Instantly, you kneel down in front of her, eyeing her from every angle. He really managed to put all her unruly hair in one of your afro puff hair ties, the whole package covering the floor along with multiple tubes of different gels and countless diverse brushes. It looks like an absolute mess around her room, different brands and tools clustered around. But you only have eyes for your daughter and beloved husband.

“This looks absolutely stunning!”

“Do you…really think so?”, Satoru mutters while scratching the back of his head.

Is the strongest jujutsu sorcerers of your time really…blushing? Immediately you grab his hand covered in dried gel and press a passionate kiss against his cheek.

“She looks like a model, I couldn’t have done it better! How did you do this? Only yesterday, you didn’t know what to do!”

“I did some research…”

“The whole night?”

“The whole night.”

“This looks fantastic!”, your daughter cries out when seeing herself in the mirror, twisting and turning herself in order to soak in her gorgeous bun.

“You always make it look so easy. Sometimes I forget how much skill this requires”, he mumbles against your ear, dragging your body onto his lap.

“I hope you’ll remind this when you ruin my hair next time”, you playfully reply.

“Want me to ruin your hair right now?”

[cherryredstars]

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Age Gap

A/N: Missed them

Unedited

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4 Pt. 5

Miguel sighs as he peers over at you.

You’re sitting on the floor, where your old, second-hand couch sat. The hardwood has discoloration to prove that the creaky furniture lived there once upon a time, a lighter shade compared to the dark surrounding wood. You haven't moved since Miguel told you to take a break after he found you on the verge of tears while you were packing away the items sitting on your bookshelf. Since then, he's carefully put the items away in a cardboard box and saved dismantling the shelf itself for another time.

You're picking at a loose threat at the end of your tank top, fighting the urge to cry by sniffling and blinking rapidly. Miguel's mouth thins before he sets the dish in his hand on the counter and makes his way over to you. He kneels besides you, tilting his head to the side to try to get a better look at your face. It proves futile as you hunch your shoulders forward to fold into yourself. Miguel is gentle as his hand grasps your chin, slowly forcing your head up to look at your face. He gives you a small smile, his hand moving to cup your cheek. His thumb applies the smallest bit of pressure to your skin as he rubs at the puffiness that's starting under your eyes.

His thumb catches the first tear that escapes pass your lash line, but the following tears come too quickly. You lean forward, burying your face into the crook of his neck as a sob wrecks through your body. Miguel is quick to wrap his arms around your shaking frame, adjusting his position so he can pull you into his lap. He whispers soft words into your ear, trying to calm you down as he runs his hand through your hair comfortingly.

"Shh, why're you crying, preciosa?" Miguel mumbles to you, shifting your weight on his lap to make sure your back doesn't ache later from the awkward position.

You only respond with a sniffle, trying to fit yourself closer against him. Miguel presses a soft kiss to the side of your head, not pressuring you to speak until you're ready. Eventually, your breath settles to shaky exhales and you pull away. Tears still trek down your cheeks, but you stubbornly wipe them away with the palms of your hands. Your cheeks come back red from the lack of oxygen and the irritation of rubbing your skin so hard. Miguel's usually burning hot touch turns to a soothing balm as he cups your cheek and presses his lips to your forehead. His arms stay wrapped around you, but they're loose around your hips. A silent show of support.

"I'm gonna miss you." You sniffle, the words coming out cracked as your lips begin to wobble with a new wave of tears forming in your eyes.

Miguel's smile remains soft as he kiss at your puffy eyelid, moving to cover every inch of your face in his feather light kisses. Watery salt blooms against his tastebuds, and he rests his forehead against yours to look into your shiny eyes.

"Only for a week, baby." Miguel reminds, "Then you'll come back home."

You look past his shoulder to look at the packed boxes around your growingly sparce living room. All the belongings that you've collected from your childhood home and from your years at university now stowed away in dull cardboard.

"Yeah, but it feels like I'm leaving forever when I'm packing up all my things." You mumble in defense, looking back at Miguel.

Miguel's smile widens as your eyes meets, a mischievous gleam twinkling in his eyes.

"At least you're not the one who has to unpack all of it." Miguel teases.

You huff before playfully swatting at his chest. It rumbles with his chuckle, his hand pinching your waist lightly. You cross your arms as you look down at him, glaring at the handsome man.

"It's not like you would let me help you, anyways!" You correctly conclude. "You're only bringing it next door, anyways."

Miguel rolls his eyes, "What type of help would you be? You can't even carry a single one of these boxes."

Your mouth drops in offense, but Miguel grabs your wrist before you can swat at him again. Miguel hides his cheeky smile in the palm of your hand, lightly kissing the soft skin. Despite the affection that you would usually melt at, you continue to glare at him.

"Do I have to remind you that I had to move into this apartment? Who do you think carried all this junk in here?" You reply, proud at your comeback.

The feeling quickly deflates when Miguel raises a brow. "Oh, you mean the boxes of junk that I carried into your apartment after I came home and found a pretty little thing struggling out in the hall?"

You open your mouth to defend, but Miguel cuts you off, "Or are you talking about the day I called out of work because someone couldn't figure out IKEA instructions and needed help assembling furniture?"

You slump, tears dried up and replaced with defeat. Miguel chuckles at you, kissing your pouty lips. You scrunch up your face as you pull away from him, getting up and turning away to continue packing up. Miguel watches you from the floor, shaking his head at the attitude you've quickly developed.

His arms come to wrap around your waist, gently swaying your body as you begin wrapping the dish Miguel set down before. You melt into the touch despite the sour look on your face. Miguel peppers small kisses to the side of your neck and to your shoulder, humming happily.

"Gonna miss my spoiled girl." Miguel speaks into your skin, sighing as the reminder of your fast approaching departure enters his mind.

"I'll only be gone for a week," You mock his earlier words, smiling slightly at the reassurance that you're not the only one that'll be affected by the time away.

"Too long, " Miguel argues. "Do you have to go back to your parent's house for break? Just stay here with me."

He tries to make his suggestion more convincing with a roaming hand, slowly dragging down to the waistband of your shorts. You snort, shrugging him off of you as you hand him the protected plate. He takes it from you with a displeased grunt, putting the plate in the designated box. You turn around, your arms coming to pull Miguel close to you again by loosely wrapping your arms around his neck. You raise yourself up on your tip toes to give him a few soft, quick pecks. He instantly returns them, a small smile growing on his face.

"I can't wait to move in with you." You whisper up at him, your own smile growing on your face.

"Too bad you didn't get evicted from that noise complaint, could've moved in with me faster instead of waiting for your lease to end." Miguel teases, beginning to sway your body again.

You roll your eyes, your cheeks burning up at the reminder of the noise complaint from a few months ago, the memory of what you did to gain that noise complaint flashing through your mind.

"I don't think I would be allowed to live in the building if that happened," You giggle, tilting your head at him.

Miguel hums dismissively, "Well, at least I have you all to myself now."

He leans down, and you close your eyes as you wait for him to kiss you. His nose rubs against your cheek, and you tilt your head to the side. You instantly regret letting him close to you when you feel the cold edge of his teeth before he bites down on the apple of your cheek. Your face twists in disgust as you push away a laughing Miguel.

"Ew, get off of me!" You demand, holding him back with two hands on his chest. "Go away and help me pack!"

Miguel chuckles as he walks away, warmth and happiness radiating off of him as he disappears to go pack up another room. You huff and roll your eyes as you turn back to wrapping dishes, wiping at the wet spot on your cheek. Your huff turns into a small chuckle as you smile to yourself, biting your bottom lip to stop yourself from looking insane.

You can't wait to move in with him.

[etheries1015]

A fearful Realization Pt. 2- Malleus X Reader

A continuation of This

A scenario in which you finally realize your feelings for the fae, however, the feeling doesn't leave you as elated as one may think. Perhaps it's time you came to terms with the fear of falling in love?

You slipped away from the party, excusing yourself with a quick apology to Silver as you found your way to the rooftop of Noble Bell Academy. Leaning over the edge your arms propped up on your elbows, heavy head being held by the palms of your hands. Using one arm you removed the mask to prevent the tears from ruining the fabric, wiping away with precision and avoiding any smearing of makeup you may have applied.

Staring over the beautiful stretch of the city, your eyes gazed upon the hundreds of people beneath the sun-kissed horizon as the sun slowly made its way to rest for the day. A gentle breeze blew through your hair and chilled the tears dry against your frosted cheeks. You had heard Silver run after you, clearly ignoring your desire to be left by your lonesome. So once the door to the roof opened you hadn't bothered to look back at the silver-haired boy, instead letting out a shaky and feeble chuckle through trembling lips. You didn't want anyone to see you in such a state, but as much as you wished to avoid it, there are things we as humans cannot control. Matters of the heart, for example.

"I...thought I told myself to give up on love a long time ago," You began to say, "I..." You looked down at the people walking around the city, some who were holding hands others laughing and coming together in joyous endeavors. You felt a tinge of jealousy as your heart stung with pins sticking deep within.

"I don't know why I bother, Silver," you choked out forcing a sob down your throat, "Because without fail- every single time- you somehow manage to convince yourself "His must be the personal in which I finally learn to love!" Your hands fell heavy to your side, turning away from the bustling of the city to stare in anguish at the mask in your grip. "This MUST be the right one."

"But it never is."

You sigh, finally deciding to place the mask on your face once more before looking up at the cloudless sky dusted in pink and orange.

"That's why I'm terrified. Our worlds are so different, there's no way he could possibly love me back. And even if he does, there's just...so much that can go wrong. I might still go home, and I don't want to do that to him-"

"Who, if I may ask, are you referring to?"

Your eyes widened with your heart dropping into the pit of your stomach, whipping your head around to find the source of the deep honey voice was not Silver; yet the very man you were desperately trying to avoid.

Malleus.

Your words were caught in your throat, the tears that had just stopped flowing threatened to return. In a panic you turned back around and shut your eyes tightly, hoping it was all some sort of bad dream and the Fae would magically disappear. It was inevitable though, this encounter. You would have to come to terms with your feelings to him one way or another, and this was the universes way of saying it was time.

"It's too soon," You whisper, "I can't-"

"You can," A reassuring hand placed itself upon your shoulder, urging you to look his way. When you turned to face the ethereal Fae, you had difficulty catching yourself to catch his gaze with your own. Malleus brought a gloved hand underneath your chin, using his agile fingers to tilt your gaze forcefully yet ever so gently to look into his entrancing emerald orbs.

"Am I right to assume you may be referring to...me?" You could sense a sort of hesitance in his voice, the confident man you saw singing up on stage was now standing vulnerable in front of you- and you were certain your resolve was no longer existent seeing him there under the glare of sunset. You gave a feeble nod in response to his inquiry, body trembling in terror for something you knew all to well about; rejection.

However it seemed to be the exact opposite of those deep-rooted expectations...instead, you found Malleus wrapping his arms around you, mostly to avoid showing you the un-princely blush that rested upon his pale cheeks and flustered appearance at the confirmation of your feelings. A moment of silence seemed to stretch into an infinity of uncertainty, yet was short-lived by Malleus making a rather...bold statement.

"Then I shall consider this day forward you to be my mate since I too reciprocate your feelings of affection." You shook your head in absolute bewilderment, pulling away from his chest to look him in the eyes, your mouth agape. Ah...there it was. The normal Malleus you knew- the one who was just slightly awkward and easily flustered- the one you knew not for his stoic nature and princely aura, yet his sensitive soul and animal-like silliness.

"Did you think that through?" You asked with an astonished chuckle at the rapid response the fae had given you, "I mean- first of all, I'm not from this world. Second of all, I'm a human-"

"None of that," He interrupted with a sly smile, "This is a time to rejoice, is it not? I believe we should celebrate by sharing a dance together," He smiled down at you, moving himself to grasp your hands into his.

You hesitate before deciding to drop your counterarguments, for now, the insecurities and questions can wait, you decide. Besides, everything was moving so quickly, you weren't even sure how to feel anymore. The emotions that seemed to take over your consciousness mere minutes ago were easily replaced with confusion and bewilderment, a far cry from what you had thought you would be going through when your confession came out. Malleus somehow had that effect about him, always swaying your emotions far left or far right- always knowing how to distract your mind from its own darkness, instead replacing it with something you weren't sure how to describe other than reckless abandon.

"Right now?" You responded with a breathy chuckle and raised eyebrows, "But there's no music up here...."

"I do not need music to enjoy a dance with you," He smiled, placing your hands where they needed to be for a classic ballroom-style dance, "so let's set aside your worries and simply enjoy the song of the wind and people laughing below, hmm?" With pursed lips and a deep breath, you allowed Malleus to lead the dance as you took your first step toward your new resolve.

-----

Masterlist

[bigfootsboytoy]

It was creepy. Eddie knew it was creepy. He knew it was weird. It was bad enough that he spent all class watching Steve goddamn Harrington while he scribbled in his notebook, but fishing through the trash to find the paper that the king had torn out and crumpled up? It was a new low.

But...he had just looked so focused. The poetry unit is the one most people hate. Even Eddie has been fudging it for the most part, and he actually kind of likes writing when there's a chance he can turn the poems into songs later down the line. But Harrington? He spend the class period in the zone, barely looking up from his paper while he crossed things out, found the perfect words.

And Eddie has a tiny, miniscule, all-consuming crush on the guy. So he wants to see what the hell kind of poem he was writing, okay?

He manages to find the paper (the trash wasn't actually all that full, thank god), and he smooths it out as carefully as he can. Steve's name is written in the corner of the page, and at the top in big letters, he just wrote "Poem." There's little doodles, some words written on the sides where Steve was clearly debating the right one. And then there was the poem itself.

Wild curls, shaking chains, Those shining teeth, that lion's mane. Stalk your prey, the one called king, Stuck in a cage, scared, stupid thing. You are the one, free and proud, He hides away, smiles for the crowd. Silver rings, painted claws, He watches, wishes, holds applause. Devil's tongue, wicked smile, He should be tame, you make him wild.

It isn't about him. Couldn't possibly be about him. There had to be plenty of kids at school with chains and rings and wild curly hair. Eddie was the freak, the weirdo. More than that he was a guy! There was no universe where King Steve wrote a poem about Eddie Munson, nomatter how coincidental some of the descriptions are.

There's words crossed out in some places where something else was almost used. Twice instead of saying 'he', Steve almost wrote 'I' or 'me.' Even if he hadn't, 'the one called king' is pretty obviously reffering to him. That bit isn't what gets Eddie's heart racing, though. It's the description of the other person. Wild curls, chains, rings, painted claws? Every single thing applies to him. Eddie fits the description perfectly and realizing that makes a swarm of vicious butterflies take up residence in his stomach.

Knowing that doesn't stop Eddie from pocketing the paper. It's probably about some edgy girl, and that's fine. But Steve threw the paper away, so it's not like he'll miss it, and Eddie isn't above a bit of daydreaming. It couldn't hurt to pretend, just for a little while, that Steve wrote it for him.

[chu-diaries]

100 days of mental healthcare: day 100/100

Well, it's over! I genuinely can't believe it's been 100 days since I started this challenge (even more than 100, since I skipped a day or two when I couldn't post).

For those who just arrived, I started this challenge in April, the day after my birthday, when I was really in bad health. I had severe panic attacks about 4 times a day, which made me unable to do anything. I dealt with constant suicidal thoughts, I barely slept anymore and I was spending everything I had on doctors, self-knowledge courses and therapies. I found myself with two options: the first was to invest in medications that would make me dependent and drugged, but that would fix my brain. However, there was a risk that I wouldn't get the dose or medication right in time and my situation would get worse. The second option was longer and more difficult: studying how my body, my brain and my limits worked, and then adjusting day after day what wasn't going well. You know that I chose this option and that I created the 100-day mental healthcare challenge to track my progress on this.

In these 100 days I learned a lot that I want to share here. As we are all unique and different human beings, you may not agree with what I applied in my life, but I ask for respect and empathy, because all of this saved me. Also, some points have a scientific basis in research I did and books I read.

1. mental health and nutrition

This was one of the first things I learned. I realized that when I was hungry, my body didn't give me clear signals. Probably due to my autism and ADHD, I was always disconnected from my body's needs and didn't know how to identify hunger (which I expected to be something like a growling in my stomach, but it never was that way). What actually happened was that, instead of hunger, I had a critical increase in my intrusive and suicidal thoughts, which made mealtimes much worse than they should have been. Our mind is more vulnerable when the body is not properly fed and hydrated, and many of us neurodivergent people will not feel hunger like neurotypicals do. Our body wants us to move to find food, so it sends us successive stimuli through our brains to fight for our lives and, well, eat. Some of these stimuli can be very negative and, instead of propelling us forward, they drain our energy and make us even more depressed, which also doesn't happen to the same extent with neurotypicals, who deal with this type of thing much better. To avoid this, I started eating every 3 hours, and not because a doctor told me to, but because I realized that my crises happened with this frequency. By eating regularly and preventively, my body stopped depending on this resource to nourish itself and I became more mentally stable.

2. mental healthcare and intestinal system

The gut is not our second brain for nothing. The health of our mind is completely connected to the health of our gut. You have certainly heard the phrase “you are what you eat” and it is true. What surprised me most in my studies was discovering that neurotypical and completely mentally healthy people develop mental disorders if their gut microbiota is altered. In other words, we must nourish our gut to maintain our mental health. The more diverse our microbiota is, the better our mental health will be. This means eating various foods per week, as colorful and natural as possible, because food industrialization is also partially responsible for the number of mental disorders that exist today.

3. mental healthcare and eating meat

This is a difficult topic, since I was a vegetarian for many years, but I want to share what I learned with you. The incidence of mental disorders is directly associated with the levels of omega 3, taurine and tryptophan. Omega 3 is a good fat and essential not only for maintaining memory, but for all of our cognitive functioning and, although it can be supplemented in a vegan way, it is not as accessible to everyone in the appropriate dosage as fish. Similarly, meat has high levels of taurine and tryptophan, which regulate anxiety and depression and improve sleep. For many years I did not eat meat, supplementing protein with vegetables and whey, and for all those years I suffered from anxiety and depression. I never imagined that my blood type would also suffer more from this lack of protein: blood type O struggles more to maintain mental health and ideal mood levels with vegetable proteins. It is a blood type that needs animal protein. Going back to eating meat was not an easy decision, but I decided to test it out: even though I ate a small amount of animal protein per day, my cognitive function improved a lot in these past 100 days. I became more mentally stable and stronger, my mood improved, my gut responded positively and suddenly the things that haunted me were no longer so big. I never thought that mental health and animal protein had any connection, but I was very surprised to discover that eating meat (or not) influences our mind.

4. mental healthcare and intrusive thoughts

Well, I studied psychology, but it was a theory that didn't deal with intrusive thoughts. In these 100 days I discovered this term and delved deep enough to understand that we all have intrusive thoughts. Neurotypicals deal with them better, while neurodivergents deal with them much worse. Unfortunately, I suffered a lot with these thoughts and suffered even more trying to understand why this was happening in my head. If you suffer from intrusive thoughts, start by understanding that they are not real and that they do not come from you consciously. An intrusive thought is something that crosses your mind and is similar to a scary radio station that you accidentally connected to. It does not belong to you. I learned to think (and I like this theory) that this is a way for the brain to prepare itself for various possibilities, even the most absurd and impossible ones. We are animals and our body wants to survive, so I understand that the brain explores various probabilities to always be prepared, no matter what happens. Of course, for anxious and depressed people this has the opposite effect and makes us want to die. Over time, you learn that you can’t control when these thoughts appear, but you can control how much power you give them. I deal with obsessive intrusive thoughts every day, but each day I’m becoming more and more able to not get emotionally involved with them. “It’s just a glitch in my brain,” I think, taking a deep breath.

5. mental healthcare and joy (which is worth more than solving problems)

I've always had a very fast-paced mind, cluttered with things and addicted to solving problems. In recent years I thought I should focus more on relaxing and opening up spaces in my mind, but I discovered that an empty mind can be treacherous for neurodivergent people. Our mind is, in fact, addicted to solving problems. That's how our species evolved and prospered. Our mind has an organizational structure that seeks, through connections and associations, to process past and future events, resolve pending issues and find solutions for what was left behind. We do this with everything, even with things that are not in our control. I spent a lot of my life trying to solve what was going on in my head and I was unsuccessful because I wasn't the one who created this situation. Although solving problems is a pattern of the mind, it is a sweet illusion. Many things are not actually solved, we only think they are. I discovered that the time I invested trying to solve mental problems that I did not create could be used to create happier foundations to strengthen myself. I learned that it is actually joy that heals, not obsessively thinking about the problem until it is solved. Every time I focused my energy on doing something good, laughing or contemplating nature, I became a little stronger and remembered who I am. I won't deny that I felt guilty - the cognitive rigidity of autism screamed at me that I was ignoring my problems and that I was creating a silly fantasy world. Even so, I fought to break out of this pattern. It is still difficult. But today I believe that I’m meant to be happy and that cultivating moments of joy makes life worthwhile.

6. mental healthcare and feeling useful

Feeling useful is essential for mental health. We all want to be part of something and be recognized as necessary. In these 100 days, I decided to resume some volunteer work within my community and I also opened a new company, with handmade products, so that I would also have the opportunity to produce something that was not only in the intellectual field (handicrafts are very good for those who suffer from anxiety). Having a dynamic routine in which you have an important role is great for mental health and your sense of self-authority. Also, getting in touch with other people's personal stories helps to decentralize our gaze from ourselves, which is very useful if you suffer from OCD. As tiring as it may be, the more diverse activities we do, the better our cognitive function becomes.

7. mental healthcare and moving the body

It's interesting that to take care of your mind, you need to get out of your head and move your body. Many of the tensions accumulated in our minds can be released by running, walking or playing some sport. It doesn't matter what it is, but move your body. We were not designed to stay still, but to do various strength, balance and endurance exercises. Our ancestors walked for days in search of shelter and food, and that's how our bodies evolved. Especially for those who suffer from anxiety, high-impact exercises not only help regulate your mood and release neurotransmitters, but also generate a stress spike that will do your body good for the rest of the day. When we trigger these spikes, our body answer quickly and creates new pathways to respond to stress, which helps us better deal with anxiety, depression, instructive thoughts, etc. Our sleep also improves, as we use our stored energy and tend to think less before going to sleep.

8. mental healthcare and sleep hygiene

I have always tried to force myself to be silent. I forced myself to meditate for many years, without much success, but after the panic attacks returned, meditating and being silent were torture. It was as if I made room for all my inner demons to dance in my mind and I always felt worse. I recently discovered that neurodivergent people struggle more with silence and that it does them a lot of good to distract their minds with sounds, images and other stimuli that allow them to emotionally engage with something real and outside of themselves. I see that it is a controversial topic, but I no longer believe in sleep hygiene without screens and complex content. My best nights of sleep were those in which I distracted myself with something until I fell asleep or listened to someone talking until I fell asleep. So if you want to test what works best for you, know your limits and do not blindly obey the orders that someone has set. Maybe you work better at dawn, maybe you only need 6 hours of sleep, maybe you are different from the average. Your life's work is to discover yourself and be true to it.

9. mental healthcare and developing self-authority

This was very important to me. I have always had low self-esteem and I have always believed in others more than in myself. I sought answers and cures for what I suffered from various doctors and therapists, but all of this only made my situation worse. I became dependent on diagnoses, consultations and sessions that never really helped me. At a certain point I decided that I would educate myself on the subjects that bothered me. I studied, and studied a lot, about psychology, neurology, neuroscience, nutrition and about the functioning of the body as a whole. Today I no longer accept any diagnosis about myself because I have developed my own authority. I am the authority when it comes to myself, you know? I don't need others to tell me what I am feeling because now I know what it is and where it comes from. I also know, fortunately, how to solve it. When I go to a doctor or have an exam, I know what I am investigating and what I need to achieve. It is very sad that today medicine is just a search for money and that you only get good care if you pay a lot for it, so it is important to get educated about yourself so you won’t fall into standardized speeches that will lead you to the ever-increasing consumption of pharmaceuticals and drugs without, in fact, looking at the cause of the problem.

10. mental healthcare and time

There are things that only time can heal. There is nothing like letting time pass. A few months ago, all I could think about was how I wanted to end my life and it was tormenting to think about living for even one more day. Waiting for time to pass was difficult, but I was rewarded. Time has a way of overcoming some things if you allow yourself to create new memories, new connections and new laughs. If you are suffering a lot, wait a few more hours. Live one more day. Let time pass and life bring you better things.

See you guys again on my next challenge (maybe a productivity one?). Thanks to everyone who liked and reblogged my previous posts! 💕