#it’s just so obvious ill never be allowed to be happy and i don’t know what im supposed to do from here

[hiraethwrote]

contents : no pronouns but written with f!reader in mind, eating, established relationship, very self indulgent/selfship coded, insecure reader, a little hurt to comfort ig, sprinkle of angst, fluff, no use of y/n wc < 1k

you didn’t like how the question had just slipped out, your insecurities getting the best of you. it wasn’t a side of yourself you liked to give attention to, but once the spiral started it was hard to stop it.

and it caused your boyfriend to sit with the smuggest smirk of mockery smeared across his face, and an eyebrow quirked in amusement.

“don’t look at me like that,” you retaliate against his look, earning you a low mixture of a scoff and a chuckle. it causes you to shrink in your seat, simply picking at your food with your fork.

“it’s a dumb question,” he states simply, the sly curve of his lips never losing an ounce of smugness.

“it’s not,” you mumble mostly to yourself as you avert your gaze to ogle mindlessly at the meal in front of you. you know there isn’t any ill intent in satoru's witty comments — there rarely is — you just aren’t in a state of mind where his silly jokes do you any good, your insecurities quickly deafening any sense of reason.

there’s a moment of silence, where it seems like the conversation has come to an end as quickly as it sprouted, leaving you to wallow even more in your own self deprecating mind before satoru quickly resurrects it.

“of course we would find each other in every universe.”

without hesitation, you tilt your head back up to direct all your attention at him again, staring big eyed at him with your lips parted in delightful surprise.

“what?” he asks, pausing mid bite. you try to read his face, see if there’s any bit of that classic satoru joking tone snuck into his confession — you find none.

“you’re saying it as if it’s so obvious.”

“because it is?” he shrugs nonchalantly before letting his teeth sink into the food for another bite.

the insecurity has slowly turned into interrogation, narrowing your eyebrows and leaning back in your chair, folding your arms across your chest. with a deep exhale, he drops his fork, folds his arms and leans forward on the table, the subtlest smirk stamped at the corner of his lips again.

“i just feel it.”

“you just feel it?”

“uh huh.”

“how exactly do you feel it.”

“you’re so deeply ingrained in me, so i know our connections travels dimensions.”

with his beautiful blue eyes staring into the deepest parts of your soul, the parts only he has been able to reach, he takes your breath away.

and as easy as that, he sends your insecurities astray — just like he always does.

then you see it, all over him, the love he has for you that he always carries so proudly on his sleeve.

it’s in the softness in his eyes when they have the privilege of looking at you. it’s in the crinkles by his eyes from falling asleep with a smile on his face when you’re in his arms. it’s on his lips when they curve, no matter how wide or slanted, always caused by the thought of you. and it’s in his shoulders, when your presence allows him to relax, finding no sound more peaceful then the sound of your voice.

because what you deem to be your flaws, satoru views as gifts.

he has never thought that your laugh grows too loud or obnoxious. to him it’s a reminder of life, and a clear sign that happiness is running through you. never has it crossed his mind that you might talk too much, knowing he could simply sit until the end of time and listen to you ramble.

satoru's smile quickly falters when he sees a shy pool well up along your waterline. “no, hey-“ he stutters, a little confused as he rises from his chair. before you even have the chance to comprehend his actions, he’s already stood behind you in your chair, wrapping his strong arms around you, his face pressed up against the side of yours. “if i said anything wrong…” he trails off, and you feel his embrace tighten.

a sad, little chuckle escapes you. “you didn’t,” it comes out weak but you know he hears you. you let your hands grab ahold of his forearms and squeeze, the only thing you feel like you can physically do to show him you’re okay as the tears slowly roll down your cheeks. “quite the opposite, really,” you sniffle.

“oh,” then he’s quiet for a moment, before you feel that smile return to his face. “you’re quite dramatic, aren’t you?”

he manages to draw a brighter laugh from your lips. “learned from you.”

“aah, that’s why you’re so good at it.”

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning into his comfort, feeling so small as he continues to hold you. his embrace is so secure it feels like he’ll never let go — and he knows he wouldn’t, if that’s what you needed.

“what are you sorry for?” he asks softly, his words of worry only able to be heard by you.

your shoulders rise in a restricted shrug. “being dramatic, as you said.” as the words travel past your tongue, you feel his arms flex tighter around you — if that’s even possible.

“stop that.” you feel his thumb slowly stroke you. “it’s okay. and i’ll always be here to calm you down.”

for a second you just take in his promise of devotion, and nod in agreement. “okay.”

“besides,” he breathes. “you’ll never be more dramatic than me, so i think we’ll be good.”

once again he manages to make you laugh, and his heart flutters.

©hiraethwrote 2025 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[cetoddle]

it hurts a lot like literally the one single thing i could ever ask for out of this life. and i just will never be able to have it. and i don’t understand why. and everyone else seems to have it if not the opportunity to acquire it

[littlejuicebox]

GINAAA MY GIRL!

Sending you a dadstarion prompt because you already know I LOVEEE your dadstarion content.

How did Tav find out she was pregnant with baby Gale? And how did Astarion react to the news?! Inquiring minds want to know.

To have and to hold.

Such a lovely prompt, my friend! Hope you like it!

Summary: Astarion turned mortal a few months ago, and this is his first-time experiencing illness of any kind. Unfortunately, as soon as he recovers, you start to show signs of sickness as well. Your condition is a bit different from his, though. (For more of this series check out the ‘Dadstarion’ section of my master list.)

Tags/Warnings: Dadstarion, domestic af, fluff, talk of illness, talk of vomiting, the mildest of angst with the mostest of comfort, pregnancy, etc.

A/N: I work in healthcare, not law, so I can’t guarantee the legalese is accurate lol.

Word count: 2.3K

-----

“Don’t come closer, darling, I’m disgusting.” Astarion groans from where you find him one morning, curled up on the bathroom floor.

It had been a few months since Gale of Waterdeep cast Wish, and from that moment until now the retired rogue had been a happy, healthy mortal. There were so many benefits to curing his vampirism that the elf never fully considered one of the major downsides… illness.

He’d never experienced a malady like this in his life. At least not in the one he could remember.

It’s horrible.

How had his little love or any of his friends endured this, more than once, in the past ten years?

Astarion is quite certain he contracted food poisoning from that questionable slab of salmon he ate at the Blushing Mermaid yesterday evening. He never did understand why you liked eating at that lowbrow tavern in the first place.

You crouch to examine your husband, pressing a soothing hand onto his forehead before running it down to cup his cheek.

“Astarion, my love, you have a fever.” You murmur, frowning with concern as you push sweaty curls from his face.

“Please make more obvious observations, dear,” Astarion gripes as he forces himself to sit up, still clutching his stomach. Gods, the vile churning in his gut is incessant.

He’s about to continue on with his quip, but the sudden urge to be sick forces the elf to shut up and scramble to the toilet. You hear the sounds of violent retching moments later.

“We are never going back to the Blushing Mermaid,” Astarion grumbles once the wave of illness subsides. His face is pressed against the toilet; all sense of decorum is gone. The rotten fish poisoning his insides won over any bits of pride he might have been clinging to.

You move to grab a wash rag, dampening it under the tap before kneeling back down by your husband.

“Poor thing,” You coo, folding the cloth in half before dabbing it against the back of Astarion’s neck, hoping to ease the fever.

The elf’s eyes flutter closed as he allows you to fawn over him for a moment. And then he groans and flicks his hand, palm faced downward, as if trying to shoo you away. His voice is hoarse when he says, “Just leave me here and go get ready for your meeting, darling. I’ll be fine.”

“In sickness and in health, remember?” You ask, running the cool cloth over Astarion’s face, causing him to sigh thankfully at the slight relief, “I’ll send word to the other Counsellors to inform them that I won’t be attending. You’ve never been ill before; I don’t want to leave you like this. Wyll can fill me in later.”

“Yes, ‘in sickness and in health’ and all that, darling, but those vows also included ‘until death do us part’ and I was an immortal vampire when we made them. So you were technically entering that verbal contract under false pretenses, which one could argue means it’s null and void. Go to the meeting, it’s—“

Astarion almost manages to finish his rambling legalese before more putrid liquid spews out of his mouth. When he’s finished vomiting, he whines again, any bit of stubborn resilience and feeble attempts at selflessness abandoned.

“On second thought, maybe you should stay here,” He says, his chest heaving with exertion as he clenches his eyes shut, “Please tell me you have a spell for this.”

“Unfortunately not, my love. I only have a spell for curses. Best I can do is half a bottle of Elixir of Health, some ginger-peppermint tea, and a bath.” You sigh, already crossing the bathroom on your way to the tub. You fiddle with the taps for a moment to start the bath and then begin to pour oils into the flowing water.

“Deal,” Your husband mutters, peeling off his sweat-soaked night shirt, “But none of that vile honey you got at the market here in town for my tea; I want the one Shadowheart and Lae’zel sent from Neverwinter.”

“Anything you say, Lord Ancunin.” You joke, rolling your eyes at your husband’s fussiness. He’d barely regained his sense of taste a few months ago and already favored upscale ingredients and meals, as if mortal food hadn’t been but ash in his mouth for two hundred years.

The elf glares at your insolence but doesn’t retort; he’s too busy trying to keep himself from vomiting again.

*

The following morning, Astarion wakes feeling much better. Practically brand new, in fact. It seems the potion and your strange flower child medicine must have done the trick. He sighs a breath of relief and then rolls to snuggle against you for a few more precious moments. He reaches his arms out and grasps at nothing but air.

The silver-haired elf immediately frowns and sits up. That’s exceptionally odd. You were not a morning person; you never had been in the ten years he’d known you. You always slept in longer than him, even in the wilds. On more than one occasion he’d had to lure you out of your nearly comatose slumber with the tempting smells of coffee and breakfast.

Astarion hears you gagging in the bathroom and goes to investigate. He soon finds you clinging to the toilet, practically mirroring how he looked the day prior.

“Oh no, little love, do you think you have food poisoning, too?” He questions, frowning slightly before kneeling down to press his hand against your forehead just like you’d done to him, “No fever, though.”

You whine, leaning into your husband’s hand before grumbling, “Damn the Blushing Mermaid straight to Stygia! Why do I even like that place, again?”

Astarion laughs, “I’ve been wondering the same thing for years, dear. I hope now you’ll finally reconsider. Do you want some tea and a bath?”

“Please,” You say, just before another wave of nausea hits you, forcing you to throw your head into the toilet and gag. Frustratingly, not much actually comes out despite the waves of sickness coursing through your body.

Gods, you wish you could simply vomit and feel relief.

Astarion begins to prepare the appropriate remedies, much like you’d done for him the day before. Thankfully, you seem to recover much faster than he did, and by midday you look and feel completely normal.

Good thing, too. You two were out of any elixirs that may have helped you had your ailment been as severe as Astarion's.

“Perhaps I’m just a better healer than you, darling.” The silver-haired elf teases as the two of you take afternoon tea in the sunroom.

“Perhaps I’m just stronger and more resilient than you, my love.” You retort, wrinkling your nose in jest at your husband.

He chuckles softly and then presses a kiss to your nose, “Agree to disagree.”

*

Astarion thinks the two of you are past this bit of bad luck, but when he wakes the following morning, he hears you retching once again.

When the elf finds you in the bathroom, appearing as almost an exact repeat of yesterday, though perhaps a bit worse, his brow furrows.

“Darling, I'm worried now. You look more ill than before. Perhaps we should take a trip to Jaheira? I can head to the apothecary for another Elixir of Health while she looks you over.” He murmurs gently, extending his hands to pull you to your feet.

You simply nod in agreement, too nauseated to do more than follow your husband’s lead as he slips you into a set of robes and ushers you into the carriage.

*

When Astarion returns to Jaheira’s after dashing out to the apothecary, he finds you sitting at the druid’s dining table. The two of you stop whatever hushed conversation you’d been having and turn to look at him in unison.

“Feeling any better, Tav?” He asks, coming to stand by your side before placing a worried hand upon your shoulder. You simply cover your hand with his and nod in response.

“Much better,” You say, flashing your husband a small smile. Something about your expression looks hazed, as if you’re stuck in a daydream. Poor thing, you're probably exhausted and experiencing brain fog.

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine with the teas and medicinals I’ve given you,” Jaheira assures, her eyes flickering between the two of you. She grins for the briefest moment before falling back into her typical, more serious demeanor.

Astarion swears he feels like something is off, but when he turns to give you a questioning look, you’re the picture of happiness as you sip from your tea cup, finishing it off.

Well, at least you’re doing what Jaheira has prescribed.

“What about the Elixir of Health I’ve just purchased?” Your husband asks, lifting the bag in his hand, “Will that help?”

“Oh, I recommend you keep it for something else. I don’t think Tav needs it for this,” The druid responds before standing, signaling it’s the end of the visit. She was always quite straight forward and lacking in certain genteel social graces, in Astarion’s opinion.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with the Harpers.”

You quickly bid your goodbyes and Astarion helps you back into the carriage, eager to get you back to bed so that you can sleep off the rest of this sickness.

*

Astarion notices you’re uncharacteristically quiet on the carriage ride home. He typically doesn’t mind when you’re in one of your pensive, stoic moods. But this illness of yours had him more anxious than usual and he had to know more about Jaheira’s examination results, if only to ease his own worries.

“Darling,” He starts, taking your hand in his. But you don’t seem to hear him; you’re still lost in your own little world.

“My love,” He says, this time a bit more urgently, squeezing your hand just enough to pull your attention to him, “What did Jaheira say, exactly? Did she mention how long this illness will last?”

“Oh, the nausea will probably go on for a few weeks,” You reply, a goofy, lopsided smile breaking across your face. You cannot stifle your grin at the little secret you know you’ll be unable to keep for more than a few moments longer.

“Weeks?” Astarion questions, his voice pitching up with worry and brows stitching together in concern.

Why in the hells are you smiling? What druid bullshit was in the tea Jaheira gave you?

He folds his arms across his chest, not at all pleased by the lack of seriousness you seem to display. The idea of you being sick for weeks makes his heart hurt and his stomach churn as if he’s still sick. He could never stand to see you uncomfortable.

“Tav, are you drugged? This is serious. I fail to see what there is to be smiling about right now. You’re going to be nauseous for weeks and you can’t use an Elixir of Health? Are you absolutely sure Jaheira even knows what she’s—“

“I’m pregnant, Astarion,” You interrupt, and you cannot help but to laugh at your husband as his mouth hangs open mid-sentence, frozen in shock.

He blinks for a moment or two, otherwise completely still as his brain rushes to process the new information.

When the elf finally regains his composure and finds his ability to speak, he shoots out a flustered, rambled, “Darling, I— I’m sorry, can you repeat that? I’m not certain I heard you correctly. The road is quite bumpy and the wheels of the carriage are loud— I think they need oil— and the horses—“

You laugh and firmly grasp your husband’s hand, wholly capturing his attention before murmuring, “You ridiculous elf. You heard me the first time. I’m pregnant, Astarion.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen a bigger grin cross your husband’s face.

“Tav, darling, I— gods, just come here to me.”

Astarion’s lips crash into yours, and he’s smiling into the kiss as he threads a hand through your hair, intent on pressing you closer into him. A tiny, delighted hum escapes your husband as he uses the kiss to express all the feelings he cannot yet put into words.

When he finally pulls away, he cups your face with his hands and peppers a few more kisses upon your lips.

“Is this your way of telling me you’re happy about this, Astarion?” You ask, grinning at your husband as he gazes upon you with the most besotted eyes you’ve ever seen.

“Thrilled, my love,” He whispers, before pressing forward to kiss you again, trying to convey the depth of his excitement with his affections. He doesn’t let go of you the rest of the way home, almost desperate to cover you in worshipful kisses, each one a little vow of love to you.

You notice he's unusually quiet, but then, he’s far too busy smiling and smooching to do much talking.

*

Later that evening, you move to get out of bed and head toward the bedchamber door.

“Ah, ah, ah. Where do you think you’re going, little love?” Astarion calls, already tossing his book aside to follow after you, “What do you need? Let me bring it to you.”

“I just wanted a cup of water, Astarion. I can go get—“ You start, but he quickly presses a kiss to your lips, effectively quieting you.

“Hush, my love. You’re still nauseated and you’re carrying very precious cargo.” He gently chastises as he turns you by your shoulders and steers you back toward the bed.

“You’re being dramatic,” You grumble, sitting back down in the bed and wrinkling your nose at your husband.

“Perhaps,” He agrees, grinning down at you as he gently folds the blankets back around your legs, “But you knew exactly the type of theatrics you signed up for when you married me, darling. 'To have and to hold, to love and to cherish' and all that, hm?”

And in that moment, Astarion was certain he’d never love and cherish anything more than you.

Nine months later, the little silver-haired newborn he held in his arms would prove him wrong.

[ploppymeep]

I drew him but it kinda sucks, I will have to practice more at drawing him,

Anyway I just find him interesting and anything you want to say about him I would be happy with, I just want to examine him under a microscope he is that kind of character to me

IJUST. ACTUALLY SCREAMED IRL92):;)&::&$:/:7 YOU DREWW HIM SOOOOO FUCKINGFFFR CUTE i’m gunna cry ohmy goodness

since you drew him in the western au outfit i suppose ill give a little context for that max specifically!! ok so, maxy is (obviously) a trans man in every different au, and in this one he was the only daughter of a wealthy family that owned a large ranch. in the beginning before the horrors [which i’ll get to in a second] he starts kind of like every other max he’s just kind of an annoying spoiled brat who really only cares for himself and is just generally an asshole. the only person he really likes is his personal butler eden [@\tacticalvulva ‘s oc] who he grew up with. their relationship is kind of like, if eden was assigned to do something else for the day like run errand or something and one of the other butlers was supposed to tend to max for the day he’d be like “NO i want EDEN where is HE? hes the only one that knows how to do things RIGHT” cause hes very particular and also a brat [+ the autissmm… his routine]

anyways, because his parents “had no son” they set up max in an arranged marriage with Richard [ @/grfld101 ‘s oc] max was, well, furious when he found out and had a melt down. he thought it was unfair and was mortified by the idea of having to just be someone’s wife for the rest of his life. a big reason why this freaked him out asside from obvious reasons is that max has a very big complex surrounding control, he likes having everything and everyone around him EXACTLY how he likes it and the thought of losing any form of control/ having to sort of have his life dictated by someone else [EX: Parents, a husband] makes him want to die.

anyways fast forward to him actually meeting richard, he fucking HATES this guys guts automatically and is genuinely just incredibly rude towards him/ doesn’t give him the light of day, and will even order eden to do stupid shit like poor a bucket of water on him. anyways this goes on for awhile and one day max and rich are told to go on like a leisurely horse ride together to “get to know your future spouse” or whatever and he is NOT pleased. after maybe 20 minutes of silence he would say something along the lines of this in a very haughty voice,“you know im only out here because my PARENTS forced me to. if it were up to me i wouldn’t even be within one mile of you” really annoying turns up his nose. anyways long story short while they’re out in the woods he accidentally falls off his horse into a river/stream and is like AAAAA so rich goes down to help, and max who is incredibly embarrassed, instinctively shoved richard into the water aswell. this ends up with them like tousling but then they start laughing and just throwing water at eachother and shit. they have a “we have to dry our clothes” moment and so they end up sitting out in the woods for awhile, and after a bit of silence i imagine him being like “yknow ive always been jealous” “jealous?” “of men. you get to do whatever you want go out be free and take charge and i get to be, a wife.” and voz said richard would say something along the lines of, “ I never really saw you as a wife. generally, i mean. Not as wife material, just i don’t see that life for you”

LONG STORY SHORT after that max actually starts to develop feelings for him. rich already had sort of a budding crush on max before that but max entirely disliked rich before this encounter. along the way they DO fall in love and richard, knowing that if they stayed that their parents, (especially richard’s parents) would never allow max to live the life he wants he asks max to elope with him and gifts him his pearl earrings as sort of his own form of engagement. max agrees and both of them are sort of giddy with excitement/ anticipation the night they planned to run, but that was cut short by them being caught. they’re forcibly pulled apart and max watxhes as richard gets his eye slashed, but he’s dragged away before he can see what happens. in his mind they have killed richard. has soon as he can he runs hysterically crying to find eden screaming his name and he BEGS him to help him escape to anywhere that isn’t here. his one chance at genuine happiness and the love of his life lost in the same instant he is more distressed and traumatized than he has ever been in his entire life. eden, who would do anything for him, instantly agrees and gathers all the necessary things to get out of there on horseback as soon as possible.

on the first night they managed to find an in to sleep in Eden vows to never leave max’s side for as long as he lives. they already had a sort of codependent relationship before this but it becomes much more like, extreme(?) after this point. (there’s also the matter of eden’s unrequited love for max but i wont explain all that here…). max for the first few months has sort of extreme mood swings of being catatonic and then hysterically crying the next night until eventually it sort of simmers into his constantly pissed off/ on edge ticking time bomb default current state. at some point not to long into their escape eden ends up having to kill someone for max. and max, who on top of already being kinda fucked in the head now has experienced the huge trauma of the night of the slash+ escape, instead of being distraught at this he just kind of, laughs. it has to do with his weird thing with control/ coping, he sees how kind of easy it is to just, take someone’s life and the rush kind of goes to his head a bit. not saying he becomes kind of a serial killer but i’m saying he becomes kind of a serial killer.

years later he confides in eden that he’s TIRED AND BORED of being a vagabond and he wants to MAKE something of himself. there’s a period of time we haven’t really cooked on here in which he transitions [clothes hairstyle starts going my maximillion] and ends up becoming the evil ass mayor of a town. he gets a sort of high from being in control of the lives of all these little townspeople it’s like a fucked up dollhouse to him

THERES MORE TO IT BUT. IM GUNNA STOP THERE CAUSE THIS ENDED UP WAY LONGER THAN I INTENDED I hope this makes sense i didn’t proofread

also a lot of the things i’ve mentioned here are things i drew and posted with no context so if you wanna go back and look at them with some more context you can now .., yayy

also special bonus information, max’s voice claims are

pre transition/Western au: Blackarachnia beast wars

post transition: kuzco

LOL

[kibblbread]

TRANSFORMERS ONE FANFIC IDEA INCOMING!

Yeah it’s optimus x megatron, sorry not sorry i want to explore their relationship as lovers instead of friends/brothers because I’m a hopeless romantic although i may or may not do that eventually too???

Anyway this fic is being dubbed the Transformers one alternate timeline fic! You can look at the basic premise by clicking the embed link 🔗

You can call it whatever you want the nickname is mostly for me lol

Anyway here is more headcanons and basic outlining for my writing if anyone is interested. I know what its like to be in a small fandom with hardly any fic content for your personal otp 🙃 cries in redhood fandom

So lowkey I want there to be roles within the relationship, I just don’t want to type cast or define either Megatron or Optimus by assigning Top & Bottom. Like people they’re complex and often switch in accordance to what the other needs.

I noticed D16 throughout the movie was a bit more easily stressed and anxious while Orion usually tried to stay more level and optimistic. Pax truly is a good leader. However D16 definitely is also very capable of taking charge, especially when he starts getting fed up with a specific circumstance cough, cough. D16 is very emotional though, and allows that to fuel his motivation and in turn his actions as well.

In my fic I plan to make alt Megatron emotional too! He’s protective and a bit impatient but he’s happy with routine and the mundane of everyday. Also still a nerd and is actually very kind/gentle to not only Optimus but the citizens! Well, outside of the gladiator ring at least.. Megatron never truly gets used to younger bots idolizing him like he does a past Prime. Yes he does become a gladiator, kinda like in the tfp continuity but in this timeline he is still leader of the high-guard as it operates under Optimus Prime’s will. Think basically Cybertron’s army for lack of better terms!

Optimus does his best to be hands on as possible but thats kinda difficult as he is essentially Cybertrons assigned leader and protector. Most operations under his own orders go without the bot ever truly getting to be involved. However, he still takes just about any scrap of time he can to spend with Megatron. It’s pretty obvious to anyone that sees them interact that they’re whipped for one another lol.

Some kinda pivotal moments (spoilers ig??? They’re not too bad though i hope) 🤞🏾

A proposal from Optimus to alt Megatron. It’s pretty early in the fic, and will probably be after I’ve set the stage and done some world building.

Alt Megatron taking on an aircraft form for his transformation! It was just easier for him while leading High-Guard operations but his size, lol, the difference between them is so cute. I’m gonna have so much fun writing

Sentinel being marched through the mines like Megatron originally set out to do. Optimus wasn’t exactly happy about it but never questioned or interfered despite Sentinel’s pleading

Both Megatron’s being partial to holding grudges and indulging in rage. Although alt Megatron has trouble controlling other emotions as well, his mood is contagious for better and worse tbh. Both versions of their auras are captivating and fill any room no matter how big.

Canon Megatron trying to kill alt Optimus on sight because that boy ready to square up 🤭

Shockwave figuring out the switch situation and switching things back without even consulting anyone, spoiler alert — he fucks up

Megatron being disgustingly cute with either Optimus in either timeline because he’s dangerously persuasive and sincere

Yeah that’s really all i got for now. It’s very otp centric but obviously Ill flesh out the others to an extent later.. or not idk if I’ll complete this project or not. But it’s maybe gonna be around 10-15 chapters???

Wish me luck and we’ll see how it goes 😝

[soyces]

Morning Tea(Johnlock) Pt 3

tags- fluff, angst :D

notes: I was procrastinating on this for so long but its finished!! sort of the next chapter is uhhh happening at some point just bear with me-

Chapter 2 (Johns point of view)

I sigh. While looking down at my knees. How could he not understand? How could he not know immediately? Is this the one thing he cannot deduct? Why do I have to say it…

These thoughts spin around in my mind like a carousel. Constantly in motion and more and more people crowding onto it. In this case it's paranoia, anxiety, and shame trying to crowd my mind. I'm sick of it. So I decided to say what's really on my mind, he deserves nothing but honesty. 

I lift my head suddenly and look him in the eye briefly then look back at my hands.

“Sherlock I-...I feel ashamed of myself okay? I’m surprised you didn't figure that out sooner with your brilliant mind-. I pause, then take a breath, I am agitated again, I can suddenly feel every pore on my face, I can feel my skin on my body and it's making me ill. I breathe in sharply. 

“I feel like…I’ve hurt Mary. I feel as though I have done something I shouldn't have. And-...I should have stopped myself even if I was intoxicated. Which is another thing. Me? Drunk? That drunk?” I exhale and look down at my hands again. Why can't I look him in the eye? What is the matter with me? I ask myself 

“I understand.” he mumbled while looking at my hands. That's it? That's all the brilliant Sherlock Holmes has to say? Why am I getting upset with him? He did nothing wrong. I’m pretty sure I initiated everything-

“I’ve never been good at understanding people’s emotions John-”

“Oh well we can all see that!” I chuckle mockingly while my voice proceeds to break. 

“Yet strangely, I can understand yours” He says firmly with a neutral face.

I scrunch up my face trying to make sure my eyes don't water too much. But there's no point, he'd already know that I am crying, he’d know that I feel like a horrible person and that I feel ashamed of myself just by looking at me- He knows me inside out. He has me all figured out. And he already knows that what i really do regret is not the fact that it happened but the fact that i enjoyed it.

“What I want to know John…The one thing I'm too distracted to figure out. Do you regret it?” He seems genuine, he doesn't know- I lean back in my chair with a sort of puzzled and surprised face but I try not to make it obvious. I quickly sit back up and wipe my eyes before finally looking him in the face, his face still pierced with those cheekbones and messy bed hair. I inhale sharply and begin to speak. 

“I- I don’t know…” I knew, I knew exactly, I knew that I didn't regret anything except the fact that I cannot seem to allow myself to be happy after Mary. Everything I do I feel as though she would be hurt by it-I suddenly stand up and mumble something to Sherlock then rush to the sink and wash my face trying to pull myself together. I quickly glance back at Sherlock…he looks broken. He looks like a candle whos final flame had just been blown out- this had made me realize how selfish i was. While I was trying to make myself feel better about the situation I couldn't bother to notice that he was hurt. I exhale sharply and wash my face again, making a mess on my shirt as the water drips down my face almost as if they were tears.

[bonesandthebees]

*Shows up with home made thee idk_how_many days late* So how about the Glass final. I have zero time to analyse (God forbid a girl has enough time to do all her hobbies), so bulletpoints and screaming it is. Things I loved about the final chapter in no particular order:

NIKI!!! The consequences of her actions! She cares so much about Wilbur but she still picked Jack (just like Wilbur picked Tommy). Their friendship was build on a wooden foundation and she knocked a wreaking ball straight through it.

Wilbur just fucking Shoving Tommy behind him when Niki took a step closer. He doesn’t trust you with his younger brother. THE PROTECTIVENESS. AAAAAHHHHHHH.

Jack thinking he’s seeing ghosts. How’s that conscious feeling? Badly, I suppose. He’s gotta be very guilty and he’s not relieved that Tommy survived per se, but he’s not mad about it either. They are even now (as even as they can be because Tommy did in fact die, but Jack will never know that). Jack can let go of his anger and Tommy is getting the fuck out of there. They can move on with their lives.

Oh and Tommy just not telling Phil and Techno (or anyone) about dying, about Kristin not being there. Part of it is not wanting it to get explained away because he doesn’t want his feelings (his anger) to be invalidated by a “I’m sure she had a reason” he wants to be upset. The other part is wanting to keep that a little secret between him and Wilbur. And the last part of it is not really wanting to address it especially after knowing they will leave (though he’d already lied about that before learning he could leave).

Similarly, Wilbur not wanting to tell Techno and Phil about killing Schlatt because he doesn’t want them to know that side of him, even if they wouldn’t mind. Wilbur wanting to keep that side for just him and Tommy. Brothers and their secrets, they are making me ILL! Oh and the lie still being so obvious! The silence is so loud, there’s a reason Wilbur knows, but he’s not elaborating and Phil and Techno know a thing or two about trauma so they don’t push (a lot).

Wilbur fleeing the county! This dumbass assuming Tommy WOULDN’T be coming along with him. Like you brought him back from the dead! And even without knowing that Phil and Techno still fucking knew Tommy would not leave Wilbur’s side! Everyone knew!

TOMMY DYEING HIS HAIR THE SAME SHADE OF BROWN AS WILBUR’S!

The goggles Sam made!

WILBUR WAVING NIKI GOODBYE WITH HIS LEFT HAND, CLEARLY SHOWING THE TWO FINGERS HE LOST BECAUSE OF HER!

Also, I was wrong, it wasn’t his entire hand, but I would have been very surprised if he had made it through this entire story without getting a prosthetic. All the tenants need to end up broken. He already got the tatttoo, but prosthetics weren’t allowed either. And now he matches with his brother.

SAME LAST NAME ON THE FAKE PAPERS BABY!!! YOUR HONNER, THEY ARE BROTHERS!!!

Tubbo learning Wilbur’s name and messing it up so fast. Poor boy, Tommy might have been ready to jump him. He’s going to have to get used to to hearing other people call him by his name. He’s no longer the only one who knows. He’s going to have to share that information.

CHARLIE FINNALY GETS HIS TEETH.

Tommy from downstairs’ friend, a nickname which Wilbur has been given when meeting Charlie for the first time (so first or second chapter) finally being replaced with his actual name.

TNTDUO!!! THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THEM!!! THEY ARE DIGGING THEIR NAILS INTO EACH OFHER’S HANDS AGAIN!!!! WILBUR ISN’T EMPTY!!!!!!

The family owned drug cartel and Quackity possibly coming to hang out and cause crime too. CRIMEBOYS!!!

And of course right when I was starting to chill we get the touch of Kristin. I hope the goddess are up their rooting for their two favourite boys. I hope they wish them happiness. I hope they leave them the fuck alone!!!

I think that’s everything. It’s been a while since I’ve read the chapter so I’m just rambling off the top of my head. As you can tell, Glass has joined Stars, it’s living up there rant free. I can’t wait to dig my teeth into Rose because there’s lines in there I want to tear to shreds. THE IMPLICATIONS, BEE! THEY ARE KILLING ME! Alas, I have no time because I’m dying, but when I get a free night, I will be going ham.

Anyway, hope you have a good day/night. I’m passing the fuck out.

-🌲

girls never have enough time in the day to do all their hobbies we suffer more than jesus...

anyway I'm finally getting around to responding to some of the glass finale asks so here we go LMAO

YEAHHH niki having to face the consequences of her actions!! sorry girl you did try to kill his bestie/adoptive little brother. she and wilbur both tried so hard to keep their friendship intact but they were always going to choose Their People over each other. so of course wilbur is protective over tommy as a result. big brother wilbur activated.

yes now jack and tommy are properly even. tommy tried to kill jack and failed, and jack tried to kill tommy and failed. they can finally move on, although before jack saw tommy alive he was definitely feeling a bit guilty about the whole thing. also the ghosts bit was just too funny not to pass up

phil always has an explanation and that's not a bad thing per se but tommy is upset!! he wants to be upset and he has every right to be, but he knows if he tells phil then phil will explain it away and tommy will feel guilty for being upset at kristin. he's gone through a lot and he's dealing with his own religious crisis now so he just wants to take things at his own pace.

god I love wilbur and tommy each keeping something only for the other to know. only tommy knows the side of wilbur the pushed schlatt further down on that metal beam. only wilbur knows the tommy that cried when he realized kristin didn't come for him after death. but yeah wilbur's silence is also very obvious, even he's aware of it, phil and techno definitely have a pretty good idea of what happened at least with schlatt

yeah duh of course he was gonna come with him wilbur you dumbass

I was thinking realistically okay they definitely need to dye their hair and I was like ok, well, why not have a self indulgent brothers moment and make tommy dye his hair brown lol

originally I wasn't planning on wilbur getting any prosthetics, but as we neared the final arc I realized that it definitely wouldn't feel complete without it happening so I figured I could just engineer the finale to include a scene of his hand getting fucked with. I think I decided he'd be getting some kind of prosthetic right around the time I was writing the chapter where he first saw niki's design for the tattoo. but yup, all the tenets were broken. he's not the vessel, he's just wilbur.

also wilbur waving at niki with his prosthetic was something I decided in the moment of writing that scene and I'm so glad I did

SAME LAST NAME YEAHHHH THEY'RE BROTHERS

tubbo tried ok

it was so funny i had actually only planned for that scene to be quackity saying goodbye to the boys but then while I was writing it I was like wait. fuck. charlie exists. so I had to throw him in real fast and then I was like WAIT TOMMY CAN GIVE HIM TEETH AND HE CAN BE TOLD TO USE WILBUR'S NAME. love charlie he's so weird

tntduo has SO much wrong with them I adore them. wilbur isn't empty and both of them can see it.

wherever the goddesses are, whatever they think of wilbur and tommy it doesn't matter because wilbur is living for himself now.

thank you spruce I'm so glad you enjoyed, as always I love hearing your commentary on all my fics and glass was no exception. ty for giving me so much motivation to keep going :)

[exvangelicalrage]

Sundays Are Weird

4/23/23

It's Sunday, which you probably guessed from the title.

When I first Exited christianity, Sundays were the most difficult day of the week for me. All through childhood, adolescence, and early adulthood, I attended church weekly. The only times I missed was for illness; and then in college, if I couldn't find a ride. 

As I approached that glorious October day when I confessed my abandonment of the religion, my attendance grew less and less, until I basically wasn't attending at all. But I always knew I could go back. Sunday morning church was always an option for me.

Until it wasn't.

Having an issue with Sundays wasn't a problem I'd anticipated. I'd expected fights with my family, I'd expected loneliness, I'd expected at least some inner turmoil.

I hadn't expected Sunday sads. 

I would watch SpongeBob and The Wizards of Waverly Place—yes, I was in my mid-twenties, but that was all that was on haha—while my grandmother went to church. I would eat chocolate. I would try not to think about how there was this big gaping hole in my life that I didn't know how to fill. 

I used to dream about an ex-christian church or support group, where people who had left christianity got together to fill that empty gap on Sunday mornings. But I simultaneously felt that no one would want that, because having Sundays back was a great advantage to leaving christianity. 

Then I tried filling it with other things—hiking, visiting my mentor, writing, art, walking to Burger King for one of those super cheap ice cream cones. But nothing really helped. I found myself dwelling on Sunday mornings. Missing the community. Missing that feeling that there was always a place I could go, even if they didn't want me there. 

Honestly, nothing fixed it. Nothing obvious, at least. It was a strange form of grief, where with each week that passed, with each reminder that I was now alone and all christians hated me, the feeling slowly faded, a little at a time. 

When we moved to Baltimore, five years after my Exit, I made a singular conscious decision: Sunday mornings would be about me and nothing else. The only part of church I missed at that point was the sense of peace I occasionally felt. I didn't miss the people or the ideology or the bad music or the sense of belonging (which I'd begun to realize I'd never actually felt). I missed the internal peace, rare though it had been.

So I would walk in Patterson Park and listen to classical piano music, watch the city birds flitting through the bushes, smile at the happ happ happy dogs, and allow myself time to just exist.

Now, I don't feel that longing at all anymore. And when I do, I just throw on some classical piano. 

Sundays are great time to go grocery shopping (before 11:30 AM, at least). They're a great time to hike. A great time to write and read and clean the house. I never have to feel guilty about working on Sundays. I never have to spend several hours in a row being reminded of how I'm screwed for eternity if I mess up even once. I never have to listen to shitty musicians sing shitty songs. 

It's just another day of the week.

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

Sicktember #10

Prompt: “The only place we’re going is to the pharmacy.”

Fandom/OCs: CottageVersity OCs (JB and Thalia)

Words: 1910

Sicknario inspo: People who don’t do physical contact from this post and being sick in a vehicle from this post.

Author’s comments/background: Ah my darling Tenbushes. This was the fic I was most looking forward to writing this year. Some of you may have noticed that within the 6, there are three pairs (other than the obvious couples) that are closer friends than with the others. Theo and Padma, Audra and Thad, and JB and Thalia are the “bestie” pairings and I hope to explore these more in the future. This fic is the explanation of how the JB/Thalia pairing came to be, since their temperaments are basically opposite in many ways. But that fact in itself is part of the explanation I suppose. Anyway, these two are super cute and very fond of each other so have a little fic about that, which was an absolute treat to write. 

~~~***~~~

Thalia was sick, and JB was pretty sure he was the only one who knew. He felt sorry for her… the timing was terrible, so it was only natural that she was hiding it–blaming her coughing and sniffling on allergies, covering her pale face and hollow eyes with makeup and carrying or wearing a sweater everywhere to keep away the chills. 

Thalia had just graduated university, along with two of her first cousins, Miriam and Jeremiah. The three of them had been born in three consecutive months in the same year, attended the same elementary and middle school, and were inseparable as kids. They remained very close through the years, though they had gone to different high schools and universities.

 Ever since middle school, the three cousins had been planning and saving for a celebratory trip after their college graduations. They wanted a grand tour of the Midwest to visit their favorite tourist and vacation spots, with Kalahari and Cedar Point in Ohio and a weekend in Chicago as the high points. The kids had done well in University, all graduating with honors, so their families had been happy to help make their dreams come true, though in fact the graduates had saved up the majority of the money on their own. The last week of June was booked for their travels, and they had begged Thad and JB to be their chaperones. The elder cousins had agreed, and in fact were honored to have been asked. The pair in turn goaded Audra into joining them to even out the numbers, and with much eye-rolling, she agreed. 

Everything went off without a hitch, and in short it was a wonderful week. In fact, it was everything the cousins had hoped for, as they said more than once. Except now, JB thought to himself, Thalia would have this negative memory of an unfortunate illness on top of the positive ones.

He was thankful for her sake that it was the last night of the trip. She was flagging more and more each day, and really needed at least a day in bed, out of the sun and away from the booze. But the schedule the threesome had been devising for years did not allow for such indulgence, and of course stubborn Thalia would never admit to such weakness, so she had been plugging along as if nothing was wrong. Whatever bug she'd caught would have likely been a simple summer cold if she hadn't been pushing her body to the limit with the rest of them for days. JB was certain from her eyes that she had a fever now, and the careful way she'd been moving recently indicated that it was an achy one. He hadn't said anything, though, knowing that would be the last thing she would want.

It was no wonder she'd willingly taken the back seat of the minivan (a loan from Jeremiah's family) for this last long leg of driving to their final hotel. In the back, she could huddle up in misery without attracting attention. JB knew he would want the same, were he in her shoes. Tonight Audra was at the wheel with Thad in the passenger seat, since he got carsick if he was too far back. Jeremiah and Miriam had claimed the middle chairs to finish a movie they'd been watching together on Miriam's laptop. That left JB and Thalia all the way in the back for the five hour stint.

Thalia had attempted to sleep at first, and he'd left her alone, trying to find a way to position his long legs that wasn't uncomfortable in the cramped quarters as he read his Kindle. Thalia was restless, though, and didn't sleep long. At first she had bunched herself against the window with her legs tucked up, but after less than an hour she woke and shifted to more of a reclining position with her head tilted back and legs stretched out. After that, she turned fully sideways with her legs up on the seat. Then, she turned again to lean forward all the way and rest her head on her hands, which were supported by her knees. The whole time she was hunched tightly into herself, her arms wrapped in a constant hug, and he could feel her shivering even in her sweater. Without a word, he slipped off his own jacket and held it out to her. She hesitated, but took it with a grateful look after a moment, covering herself as she tried to get comfortable yet again.

His heart broke for her as he watched her rotate through variations of these positions again, now with his jacket over her arms and torso, though it didn't seem to be doing her much good. Finally he could bear it no more. He nudged her foot with his to get her attention. 

“Hey, you should lean on me for a bit. You might be more comfortable.”

He expected her to refuse, or at least pause and consider it, but she immediately slumped over so her head was in his lap without a word of protest, as if she’d been waiting for such permission to be given. He froze briefly, taken aback. He and Thalia didn’t DO physical contact– with others and especially with each other, not really. Her willingness could only speak to how miserable she must have been. Recovering, he quickly covered her with his jacket again as she tucked her legs up onto the seat. His hand found its way to her back rubbing up and down as he tried to to warm her and help her relax. 

“Are you doing okay?” JB asked softly. “I can tell you haven’t been feeling well for a while now.”

“I’m okay,” she mumbled. “Mostly just tired. Ready to be home.”

“I’m sorry your trip has to end this way.”

She made a strange motion, which he belatedly realized was a shrug. “It was fun while it lasted.”

He was sure her throat hurt, at least it sounded like it did, so he was going to leave her be, but she seemed to be in the mood to talk. She continued in a low voice, too low for anyone else in the van to hear: 

“I can’t believe I’m done with school. It’s a weird feeling. And I’m already doing my "grownup" job, I have been for a few months. So it’s all kinda anti-climactic.”

“You should be proud of yourself. You did well in school and you're off to a great start in your career.”

“All at the ripe young age of twenty-two.” He wasn’t sure why her tone was sarcastic, almost derogatory. She paused, then continued: “You and Thad were twenty-two when I met you for the first time.”

JB nodded. He remembered. He’d been thinking about that time in his life quite a bit this week, being around these kids. Graduation from university was a weird, memorable time. Figuring out careers, housing, life partners. He had gone on to graduate school and was already with a long-term partner, so he had it easier than most. Still, he’d never forget meeting Thad’s family for the first time the summer after they both graduated with their BBA. The anxiety, the formality. Thalia was only a pre-teen then, still all elbows and knees as a scrawny twelve year old. A tomboy, always running around with the boys in the neighborhood, always wanting to be away from her parents even then. He would never forget the flash of fear in her eyes when she was introduced to him for the first time. He was used to that, of course. As large as he was, he intimidated most people when they first met him. This was his boyfriend’s little sister, though, and he hated the idea that he scared her. 

The fear didn’t last long, thankfully. Thalia warmed to him quickly, at least for a middle-schooler. JB was her opposite even back then, reserved where she was exuberant, serious where she was silly. Yet he sensed that she felt relaxed around him. Perhaps around him, she didn’t feel the need to be “on” all the time. That’s what he hoped was the case, anyway. 

“I wonder if I’ll ever meet my person. Like you and Thad have,” Thalia said, barely audible. 

So that’s what was bothering her. It was understandable, really. Miriam and Jeremiah had their “people”. Miriam was engaged, Jeremiah soon to be so. It was only natural that Thalia was feeling left out and probably lonely. 

“Of course you’ll find your person. You are so driven that I have no doubt you’ll achieve whatever you set your mind to, including love.”

“I didn't think love worked that way.”

“Who says it doesn’t? I fully believe if you want something badly enough and are prepared to receive it, the universe or karma or whatever will provide.”

“I thought you were an atheist.”

“I don’t have to believe in any holy being to believe in the power of magnetism. And you have that in spades, hon. If you want love, you’ll find love. Of that I have no doubt.”

“Thanks, JB. I needed to hear that." A pause, then: "I’m glad you’re my brother. I like you better than my actual brothers most of the time.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. She was sleepy and feverish (he was starting to sweat just from her touching him), and he knew he’d probably never hear her speak this way again, but it was sweet to hear regardless, because he knew she was speaking from her heart, without the usual screen of sarcasm. 

“Well I’m honored to be your brother. You’re the best sister I could have ever hoped to have.”

A thought occurred to him, and before she could fall asleep, he nudged her to sit up and handed her an unopened bottle of water from beside him. She rolled her eyes but drank a good amount before leaning against him again with a huge yawn, this time with her side pressed against his and her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her and hugged her against himself since he still felt her shivering. 

He really thought she fell asleep after that, but once again she startled him by speaking up a few minutes later:

“The hotel we’re going to has a really great bookstore across the street. That’s why I picked it. Do you think we’ll have time to go browse before we check in?”

“The only place we’re going is to the pharmacy. You need something for that fever. If you’re feeling better tomorrow, then maybe we can talk. Besides, it’ll probably be closed by the time we get there.”

“Not if we go BEFORE we check in, like I said.”

“We’ll see. But pharmacy first.”

Thalia sighed, then nodded. “It’s a deal. As long as you don’t tell them what we’re stopping for.”

“If anyone asks, I’ll tell them I need a laxative. That’ll head off any awkward questions.”

“...do you need a laxative?” 

“None of your business. No awkward questions, remember?”

She laughed. “Thanks, JB. You really are the best.”

“You too, kid.”

Minutes later she was dead weight against him, fast asleep, trusting him. He kept his arm around her until they stopped again, knowing that that was what both of them needed.

[hangmanssunnies]

Sorry it’s taken me so long, and I’m sorry to be bothering you again. But I told you I’d reread the whole series front to back when part 3 came out, I’m just 2 months late to the party and I apologize for that

I could tell when Jake first called the reader “my love” that things were changing. Every nerve in my body was vibrating with anticipation for what was to come. And the bed frame and dual table set just like Russell and Miss Celeste? Be still my beating heart 😭

I don’t think I realized how well they fit together until part 3. How Jake’s particularness is a turnoff for most people but the reader is happy to do that, or how Jake is always so soft and understanding when the reader gets triggered. Maybe they’ve always fit together so well, but I think they grew together and like you had said went full throttle with their relationship. Or at least after Jake came back from the shorter deployment and things went south. The culmination and stars aligning moment towards the end of the story made everything worth it. All of the miscommunications, and all of the words left unsaid because they were too scared or not ready. It was beautiful, thank you so much for allowing us to take this ride with you

And I know I don’t sound super emotional I just finished shedding tears from this story and I’m in full dissociation mode yay mental illness, but this is truly one of my favorite stories of all time. Thank you again 😭❤️

Oh my friend!!! You are never a bother at all! I am so happy that you got around to reading the end. I don't blame you for taking a while. Honestly, I think it's a bit outrageously long. I apologize that it's taken me a few days to respond. Timliness is unfortunately not a strong suit of mine. I appreciate you taking the time at all to read my work, and then the extra time to send me an ask letting me know some of your thoughts. 💕

The bed frame and dual table set!!! Ahhh gosh. I’m so pleased that you enjoyed that. When I was writing the ending I was struggling to like any of the ways Jake confessed his feelings in across the different drafts. Then I came back to Russ and Celeste and the fact that they are probably the only example of genuine love that Jake saw in his life growing up so thats what he panicked and defaulted to. He was like 🤔🤔🤔 okay well miss Celeste made Pops a bed set and then they spent their lives together… the obvious reason is the bed set which I don’t have. 🤨💡

Thank you again for you kind words and for willingly riding the rollercoaster that is house we share.

[deardragonbook]

Ways parents can fail children without even realizing it

TW: Mentions of mild child neglect, EDs, physical and mental health.

Sorry for not posting in a while but I just got back from a family holiday. The fact this is the first post I write probably isn’t a good sign but I think this is an interesting topic. 

First, what do I mean by failing a child? Well, I mean that pain is inflicted, either emotional or physical. But in this case without realizing it, I’m not talking obvious physical or verbal abuse. Most of what I’m going to talk about is more ignorance than anything else. But it’s a great way to make characters more distant with their parents without having to make the parents bad people. 

1.- The assumptions that children exaggerate their pain. I’ve seen this so often it’s painful. When a child complains they’re in pain, when they cry and scream for help, parents often treat this as a tantrum and don’t stop to consider perhaps they are actually in a lot of pain. 

As well as illness another thing to consider is, how many of you have had your parents laugh after you fall down and start crying before stopping to check if you’re okay? This can also be emotionally damaging when a child is actually hurt. 

This kind of ignorance can also cause food intolerances to be ignored and be forced to continue eating foods that cause us harm because they’re healthy. 

2.- Failure to recognize your children are different to you. This can be both physical and metal. I think the fastest way to explain this is through two examples: 

1.- Physical. My mother has straight hair, mine is curly. If you don’t know, curly hair requires a very different treatment to straight hair. As a child I recall my mother putting huge emphasis on brushing my hair every morning, I did as I was told and every morning my hair looked worse than before brushing it. It’d be all fizzy and just not nice to touch. My mother saw this as either me not brushing it, or when she saw me brushing it, that I was somehow doing something wrong. When I realized my hair was much better when I didn’t brush it and just combed it in the shower, she was having none of it. It wasn’t until I moved out I was allowed to do what I wanted with my hair and it looks much better now. 

That bad hair care not only affected my mental image of myself, I suffered bullying at school and constant criticism from my mother. When I never got the tools to properly care for my hair. 

2.- Mental. This one is far more obvious. If you have anxiety or any other mental issue that your parents don’t have, convincing them those feelings are real is extremely difficult, sometimes, near impossible. 

But even more simple than that, I study best with music on, if there’s no music I will listen to conversations on the street and not be able to study. My parents studied best in quiet. They forced me to study in a way that didn’t work for me just because it had worked for them. 

3.- Teaching children to save but not to spend. This one is a bit weird but stick with me. As a child I was given very little in material goods, which is fine, if ever I wanted something the answer was you can get with your own money. Okay, teaches children to spend money responsibly! Except the issue was, at the age of fourteen, I needed a computer for school and stuff. Computers are expensive. My pocket money was 5 euros a week. To earn that pocket money I literally ran the house (my father was ill, I ran the house because I was the oldest, my siblings were only like ten and five or something), to save up for a computer I needed to not spend any money during my childhood. I didn’t have new toys or actual hobbies. I also never went out with friends to eat or have drinks or go to the pool. 

Like I’ve said, my parents didn’t mean to take away my childhood. My father wasn’t at fault for being ill. The issue for me was the fact my parents were well-off. My sister at this same age (and I’m happy for her) gets sixty-five euros. The computer ended up being a family computer. I used it to manage the entire house’s administrative work. I let my sibling use it for school later on. It went to my father for work when I left home and bought a laptop. 

And as an adult who lives alone, the amount of anxiety I feel when spending money is... well, I lived off five euros a week during my first few years. I wasn’t eating enough or healthy. I’ve improved, but even now I’m still the person who finds the cheapest thing on the menu and always has that. 

And that’s a trauma they taught me. 

Had spending money been an option during my childhood, I perhaps would have learnt to spend as well as save. But I was taught to save to an extreme point and still do today. 

This is very specific. But there are many ways parents end up teaching traumas while trying to teach healthy habits. A lot of EDs come from home for example. It’s very difficult to stop and think about the long-term consequences of certain actions. 

4.- Body image. I knew what dieting was at the age of three because my mother struggle with her image. I knew I was chubby at the age of four. My mother still talks about my fat phase when I was pre-teen. I don’t even know if it was real at this point though, because at sixteen I was told by my doctor was I worrying under-weight, and my mother told me I was fat. I believed my mother over my doctor until she told me to not be surprised if my summer clothing didn’t fit because I’d put on weight. When every single item I tried on was baggy, I stopped listening to her. She probably still thinks it stretched out while in storage. But I know I stopped fainting when I started eating. 

To this day, my mother reminds me how I musn’t eat desserts and how much better I’d look if I just lost a bit of weight. 

I know from how she talks about herself that it’s more a reflection of her mental health than mine. But the inability to separate our issues from our children’s issues is dangerous. 

Trauma shouldn’t be hereditary. And for that, we need to take a step back and evaluate our beliefs. 

Anyway... that’s enough of my trauma turned into writing advice for one day! 

I’m sorry if this was a bit heavy, I promise to write something lighter soon! 

It’s been a really weird summer for me. I’m sorry I haven’t been active but just seeing the notification from tumblr and other social medias has given me a lot of comfort these months. 

So, thank you for being here! Remember, everything changes, and if things aren’t going great today, that doesn’t mean two years down the line things can’t be better. Sometimes all we can do is wait things out. Hoping you find something to smile about today. 

And, as usual if you want to check out my book, an activity book I have, my free stories or other social medias, all of that and more can be found here.

[slasherhaven]

hi um can i make a Request?? how would the slasher reacts when they're being taken care of by their female s/o while their sick

Taking Care of the Slashers when they’re Sick:

Thomas Hewitt 

Can be stubborn. Thomas is a hard worker and doesn’t need the lecture from Hoyt for not getting his chores done, so it takes some convincing to get him to just rest. He tries to convince you that he isn’t that sick, he doesn’t even feel that bad, but you and Luda May eventually convince him to rest. 

Loves when you take care of him. At first he doesn’t want to be a burden but you quickly convince him that he’s not and you want to take care of him, so he allows you. He quickly realises that he likes the feeling of you taking care of him, making sure he is alright and fussing over him. He never actually asks you for anything but he doesn't have too, you’re already doing it with a smile.

Luda May loves that you take care of him so well. Luda May thinks your perfect for Thomas and is glad that he found somebody he loves and who loves him, but seeing you take care of him so lovingly when he is sick just makes her heart melt. That’s how she knows that you’re definitely the right one for him.

Michael Myers 

Very stubborn. Michael Myers doesn’t get sick. Evil personified can’t get sick...yeah, he’s definitely sick considering all the coughing and sneezing he’s doing. Even when you roll your eyes and point out that he is very clearly sick, he brushes it off. Okay, well it’s not that bad and he can deal with it.

Reluctantly lets you take care of him when it gets really bad. Eventually the common cold just gets worse and he tries to fight it with stubbornness, and he reluctantly lets you take care of him. He will glare at you the whole time but it’s not quiet as intimidating as it normally is since he’s sniffling as he does so. You have to try not to smile as you drape a blanket over his shoulders before handing him a bowl of his favourite soup.

Jason Voorhees 

Tries to pretend he is fine. He’s not stubborn or trying to act like he’s not sick, but he doesn’t want to be a burden or anything, so he tries to act like it’s not as bad as it really his.

Doesn’t fight you when you want to take care of him. Once you realise that he really is sick, you insist on him getting some rest and letting you take care of him. And he allows it without a fight.

It makes him feel very loved. The fact that you’re fussing over him so much and taking such good care of him simply because you want to, because you love him, just warms his heart. 

Brahms Heelshire

Still a brat. Brahms is needy for your attention on a good day, so when he is sick it is ten times worse. Don’t expect to be doing much other than directly fussing over him. Whines your name if you’re gone for two minutes, he needs you to take care of him!

Loves being cared for. This is pretty obvious but Brahms really enjoys being looked after, being fussed over and doted on. It makes him feel loved and cared for.

Is way too dramatic and plays on it a lot. It’s a simple cold and it’s probably not even that bad but Brahms will act like he is dying so that you give him more of your attention. He’ll probably just lay in bed until he feels better, having you wait on him and insisting on cuddles. You suppose not much changes...

Bo Sinclair

Stubborn. At first he denies that he’s sick at all but once he can’t hide it any longer, he confesses that he’s got a bit of a cold but insists that he’s fine. He definitely doesn’t need to you fussing over him like he’s a child.

Eventually doesn’t have the energy to fight you. He just gets more sick until fighting you is just hard work, so he gruffly gives in and allows you to dote on him. You make him something to eat and makes sure he stays comfortable, scolding him whenever he complains or insists on doing something.

Okay...maybe this isn’t so bad. After so long, he begins to enjoy being cared for like this. He has to admit that it is making him feel better and he appreciates the effort your putting in just to make him feel better. Still, don’t expect a proper ‘thank you’, he’ll still insist that you were being dramatic and he was fine the whole time.

Vincent Sinclair 

A little stubborn. He knows he is sick and doesn’t deny it but he also knows that there is work that needs to get done, so he’s going to need a little convincing to just get him to rest. But you manage to get him to do it eventually, promising that the chores will get done and telling him that he needs to focus on getting better.

He likes having you dote on him, and he’s very grateful. It’s been a long time since somebody had taken care of him like this, fussed about him when he was sick and made sure he got better. He really appreciates it and lets you know that. He doesn’t ask you to do anything, feeling guilty if he did, but you kept reassuring him that you wanted to help and bringing him what he needed anyway without him asking. It’s just another thing you do that makes him fall even more in love with you.

Lester Sinclair

Very quick to convince to rest. He hesitates a little, not wanting to receive a lecture from Bo when he doesn’t get some of his duties done but you pretty easily convince him that it will all be fine. He knows that he needs to rest and he doubts that Bo is going to drive out to the house just to scold him, so he gives in and goes back to bed.

A very good patient. He does everything you say. Takes his medication, eats the soup you make, and thanks you for everything you do for him. He finds that he really does like when you take care of him, making him feel loved and cared for. He just loves you and appreciates everything you do for him.

Bubba Sawyer

Does get a little whiney. At first he tries to fight off the illness with pure willpower but soon gives in to the illness. Bubba hates being sick and he can be a little whiney about it but not in an annoying way, you just feel sympathetic for him. He doesn’t fight you trying to help him either, he doesn’t feel well and he needs you to look after him! 

A pretty good patient. Bubba doesn’t fight you, and though he can be a little whiney, he will do whatever you say. He’s happy just to be cuddled up with blankets in bed while you lovingly fuss over him, shushing him and telling him that you will take care of him.

Billy Lenz 

Pretty dramatic. It starts of with a few sneezes and sniffles, and him feeling a little sorry for himself. You’re sympathetic, already beginning to fuss over him a little, with he enjoys. But he starts feeling more ill and eventually gets pretty whiney about it. He can be very dramatic, he absolutely hates being sick and will complain to you the whole time.

Loves being cared for. Being properly cared for and looked after is pretty new to Billy, and he absolutely loves it. He loves being fussed over and he loves having so much of your attention. He will be a little dramatic, acting more sick than he his just so that you will fuss over him more. Some cuddling should get him to stop complaining and just get some sleep.

Asa Emory (The Collector)

Very stubborn. Asa isn’t going to just accept that he is sick, insisting that he’s fine, that it’s not so bad and it will be over in a couple of days. You shrug and give in, letting him get on with it. Slowly you start to see his energy draining as he hits the peak of his illness, that’s when you start to insist that he focuses on recovering. 

He doesn't know the meaning of ‘rest’. While being sick he might take a break from his Collector work, since he can’t really be doing that with his drained energy but he will be carrying on with his more legitimate work. You will have to just take his work away from him while insisting he gets some rest. You’re not going to get him to just lay in bed for the next few days but you might get him to just rest and take a break from his work.

Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull) 

Pretty stubborn. He is quick to admit that he is getting sick but that doesn’t mean he’s just going to be sitting around feeling sorry for himself. When you advise him to get some rest, he just reassures you that he is fine and it is unnecessary.

Lets you do what you need to do. You’re fussing over him and he lets you but he still assures you that he is fine, really. Still, he just lets you do what you gotta do, whether that's making him some soup or just checking in on him, and he is sincerely grateful for it. He appreciates all your effort and makes sure to tell you that. 

Need to force him to stop working. Eventually you decide that you can’t go on watching him filling out paperwork when you can physically see how ill he is, so you pull the papers away from him and insist that he comes to get some proper rest with you. It takes a little convincing but soon gives in and lets you take him to the living room, sitting him down and insisting he just do nothing for a while and focus on getting better. He isn’t very dramatic and he knows he will be fine in a few days but he thinks it’s sweet how much you fuss over him, and so he allows you to do so.

Otis Driftwood

Insists that he doesn’t get sick. No matter what, Otis will insist that he isn’t sick, but he is very clearly sick. No matter what you say, he will deny it. He is stubborn and certainly won’t let you take care of him.

Finally listens but will complain the whole time. Eventually Otis can no longer deny that he is sick and simply doesn’t have the energy that he usually has. And so he finally gives in and listens to your advice to get some rest. However, he will complain about how you’re fussing over him...even if he will get even more grumpy when you stop. When Otis is sick, it’s just a bad time for everyone because he’s in an even worse mood than usual. Mama Firefly is just glad that you’re here to take care of him and to deal with him.

Baby Firefly

Refuses to admit she is sick at first. She’s not as stubborn as her brother and isn’t ashamed to admit that she’s gotten sick, she just doesn’t want to slow down. She’s fine! Of course the two of you can still go out tonight! You just have to assure her that’s it’s fine and the two of you will just celebrate extra hard when she’s feeling better.

Finally gives in and lets you take care of her. Okay, she can’t deny it anymore, she is sick and feels terrible. Once she stops trying to fight it, she is happy to let you take care of her. She thinks you’re sweet for caring so much and kinda likes having you wait on her just a little bit. She quickly figures out that she can get away with being a little cheeky and definitely takes advantage of that.

Yautja (Predator)

He’s not sick, he doesn’t get sick. Honestly you were surprised when he got sick, you didn’t even realise that was possible. You soon learnt that he had the Yautja equivalent of the common cold. It did seem rare for your mate to get sick, the species having a pretty high immune system, and maybe that was why he was so insistent that he wasn’t sick at first.

You make sure he takes his medication or the medic’s advice. At first he might be a little stubborn, insisting he is too strong to be sick but he slowly gets over himself. Listening to you when you insist on any medication that the medic had prescribed or just when it came to following the medic’s advice.

Finds that he likes letting you take care of him. Your mate quickly learns that he likes when you take care of him. You aren’t sure how to help with his alien illness so you just do what you would do for a human partner, wrapping him up in fluffy blankets and making him soup (or whatever else he wants to eat). It doesn’t really help the same way it might help a human but you just want to make him comfortable while he gets better and that is definitely working. Your mate loves it and appreciates it, he is quickly becoming fond of your human quirks and behaviours, he is definitely getting used to them.

[softlymellow]

flaws -- B.B

pairing: Bucky Barnes x ! insecure reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: angst and talk about body image, insecurities and a persons flaws. 

summary: reader compares herself to Natasha as she see’s her and Bucky getting close. She think’s he doesn’t have feelings for her due to her not being perfect and because of her flaws but Bucky reassures her it’s not. 

note: i hope this imagine isn’t taken this wrong way as me trying to romanticise someones insecurities. if i did please dm me or let me know so i can help fix it!! i promise i wasn’t trying to make anyone feel bad or anything and EVERYONE IS SO BEAUTIFUL IN ALL SHAPES AND FORMS and everybody is insecure about something and that’s completely normal but you are loved and you are perfect and you don’t need a man ( or girl! ) to tell you that. hope you guys enjoyyy

You loved being the reason he smiled or laughed.

 Not that he would do it often, his face masked from the trauma he experienced. But when you were the reason he was happy, it gave you almost a sense of pride, but it was taken away from you.

There she was, Natasha Romanoff. 

Her incredible orange hair that sat on her shoulders was eye-catching, her glowing skin and her full scarlet lips complimented her appearance tremendously. 

You couldn't blame her. She was everything you couldn't be and everything you should be. Yet, the lump that rested in the back of your throat was difficult to ignore as you watched Bucky and Natasha interact with each other. A genuine laugh arose from the male, yet you could only wish you were the reason he laughed.

It wasn't as if you weren't friends with him. Hell, it seemed like a lot more to you. Maybe only to you.

You pulled your knees to your chest and hugged them tightly, watching the pair chatter among each other near the dining table as you reside in the comfort of the couch across from them.

Steve sat beside you, busy fixating himself on his new cellphone and playing around with the features.

You drew small circles on your knee to comfort yourself, ignoring the voice that was calling out to you.

"Y/n!" Your head snapped to your right, looking at a semi-concerned Steve. "Almost lost you there," He chuckled while you rubbed your eyes, gaining your full attention.

"How do you change the ringtone?" He innocently asked, poking his phone.

"Just go to settings and search it up." You told him, relocating your gaze to the pair. Steve hummed as he did what you instructed him. You sat quietly before you began to chew on your fingernails, thinking of every possible explanation on why Bucky would choose Natasha over you.

It almost felt as if you were being toyed with, one minute you'd be two peas in a pod, often being teased as one of the only people Bucky began to get close to other than Steve. On the other, he'd be flaunting off to every girl he would see.

"You know you should stop staring before you make it obvious," Steve whispered next to you,  jumping at the sudden break in thought and looking over to a smirking man.

"Steve," You hissed, glaring at him, "before making what obvious?" You innocently asked, attempting to cover up the embarrassment you felt.

Steve shot you a knowing look and you felt your cheeks flare-up, "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything," Steve responded with a smug expression. You rolled your eyes jokingly before turning your attention to Bucky.

"You should give it a shot, yknow," Steve whispered.

You shook your head 'no', snapping your gaze to Steve, "Trust me," He said in a hushed tone. Looking back to Natasha, you couldn't help the sickening feeling as you watched the pair flirt with each other.

"What would he see in me that he wouldn't in Nat," You mumbled under your breath, not intending for Steve to hear.

"You wouldn't know," Steve cleared his throat, poking at his phone with a pleased look on his face. You tilted your head as you narrowed your eyes at him. Getting up from the couch, you had decided to leave to wallow in your sadness.

You made your way past the pair and you heard the silence that fell among them, their gaze darting holes in your back as you walked away from the room.

Ignoring the distant mumbling behind you, you made your way towards your bedroom. Locking the door behind you, you hadn't bothered to turn the lights on. You dropped on your bed as you felt a swarm of emotions hit you. Once mostly consisting of jealousy.

You took out your phone and headed straight to Instagram. You scrolled through for what could only be interpreted as hours before you paused on a single post that lied on your feed.

It was a picture of Natasha that was posted only a few hours ago. It was taken during Tony's infamous parties last night, one that you had skipped out on due to feeling ill. She sat on a red velvet couch, and she wore a skin-tight black dress that sparkled in the light. She held a drink to her mouth as her red straightened hair fell over her eye. You had noticed that Bucky liked the picture, and you felt the tears brim your eyes. Your grip holding the phone as if your life depended on it suddenly faltered as it fell beside your head, briefly missing your face.

Getting up towards the large mirror that was framed on the closet door, you noticed every imperfection on your figure. Your hands travelled to your shirt as you pulled it off your body, leaving you only in your bra and your negative thoughts.

Your eyes wandered to every flaw, the extra fat and skin on your stomach. The way your body wasn't the perfect hourglass figure. Your fingers traced over your stretch marks that lied on your hips, feeling the slight dent in your skin. Tears began to fall down your face. Your flabby arms and that your breasts wasn't the ideal type.

Sitting on the ground in front of your mirror, you hugged your legs tightly against your chest as you sobbed.

You couldn't fit the standards that were made. The more you looked and the more you scrolled, just end up bringing newfound insecurities. That was a problem you had faced many times during your life and you began to doubt yourself. You would rather be anybody else, feeling unfit in your own body, one that was especially for you. All you saw was what you should be. A happier person, a prettier girl, and a stronger Avenger.

You threw your shirt back on, making your way towards your bed. Lying your head down, you allowed yourself to think about nothing. Empty thoughts. Thoughts that had no meaning and brought you no use.

A knock on the door brought you back to your reality. Getting up, you brushed away the tears that stained your cheeks as you sniffed. Suddenly feeling exposed, you pulled your sleeves down to hide your arms before opening the door.

Your eyes widened as you saw a concerned Bucky waiting outside. His eyebrows furrowed upon seeing your puffy eyes and your red cheeks.

"Can I come in?" He politely asked, his eyes watching every move you made. You nodded, not trusting your voice.

You stood aside, allowing Bucky to slip into your room as you shut the door behind him.

You leaned against the door, your arms crossed against your chest as you waited for him to say something.

He sighed, not knowing where to start, his hands ruffling his hair. "Are you avoiding me?" He obliviously asked. You could almost laugh at how stupid of a question it was.

Your lips could only quiver as you attempted to respond to him. "What?"

"Doll, I don't know if I did something wrong, but you seemed pretty upset back there." He tilted his head and pressed his lips together.

You shook your head as you bit the insides of your mouth, "No, no, it was nothing." You muttered as you sat on your bed, staring at your palms.

"Doll, I know you well enough to know when something is wrong." He shot you a small smile.

"Do you like her?" You instantly regretted saying that, your insecurities creeping in again.

Bucky was taken back by the sudden question, his eyebrows raised in confusion. "Who?"

"Natasha."

"What, no. Where'd you hear that from?" He enquired.

You looked up at Bucky, tears glossing over your vision. "I've seen the way you look at her, Buck."

"No, Y/n. I've never liked her."

"You don't have to lie for me. I mean, what's there not to like. She has the perfect body, face and hair and-" You were interrupted by his sudden grasp on your hands.  

"And you don't have those things?"

"I-I don't." You whispered.

"That's a lie, and you know it." His firm voice alarmed you as if you somehow offended him.

You got up and kept strong eye contact with him. "What are you trying to say, Bucky? Have you seen me?" You scoffed and started to point and poke around your flaws.

"There's nothing wrong with your body, doll." He said in a calmer tone, realising you were insecure about your body image.

"Bucky, you can just stop faking it. Go back to Natasha." You muttered, sniffing as you looked down at your feet.

"I don't love Natasha, Y/n! I love you, doll. I always have." He confessed, slightly panting as he raised his voice.

You stood still, finding it difficult to believe in his words.

"I love you and every part of you." He took your hands in his and planted a small kiss onto your knuckles.

"Then what about-"

"Forget about her, doll. I tried to forget about you through her. Steve told me." He looked up to your eyes, watching your reaction.

You felt the heat creep onto your face as you realised he knows your feelings towards himself.

"Do you really?" You asked, hope in your eyes.

He nodded, still holding your hand and planting small kisses. His kisses travelled up towards your arms as you felt a swarm of butterflies swarm your insides.

"I love your arms," he left a trail of kisses as he went further up.

"Your shoulders," he mumbled against your skin, a tingling sensation was left after every kiss as you felt yourself biting your lip in admiration.

He made his way towards your neck, loving the way you tensed under his touch. "Your neck," he kissed behind your ear as you bit back a moan.

You tilted your head, allowing him to move further, his lips moving alongside your jaw. He finally reached your lips and caught your gaze on his. His lips were mere inches apart from yours, you felt his breath fan over yours.

"Your lips," he whispered, his mouth slowly reaching yours as they gently kissed. Your lips dancing over his, enjoying the moment. His lips were soft against yours and he kissed you as if you were fragile, something to not be tampered with.

He slowly let go of you, his forehead against yours. "I love everything about you, doll. Don't doubt that and don't compare yourself to other women. You're equally if not more beautiful than them." He whispered, pecking you on the cheek.

"You'll realise your worth, Y/n." He kissed you on the forehead.

You felt better after Bucky had come found you that night. Your insecurities didn't go away, instead, you found them as someone else's treasure. And that made you feel better.

-----

a/n: man that last part has me embarrassed. 

[smellslikefeathers]

A theory about Ralsei (MAJOR spoilers below)

So, you know how the Darkners in Deltarune appear as everyday objects in the Lightner world? For example, Lancer is a Jack of Spades playing card, while Rouxls Kaard is the Rules Card playing card.

Also, in Chapter 2, Darkners who visit Dark Worlds that don't match the ones they come from inevitably weaken and turn to stone. This happens to both Lancer and Rouxls when they visit Cyber World. The only Darkner that seems immune to this is Ralsei, who has so far visited two other Dark Worlds with no ill effects.

And speaking of Ralsei, they seem keenly aware of what the Light World is like. They knew Lancer and Rouxls came from the empty classroom. They know about school and homework. They also are keenly aware of Kris' hobbies and such, like playing video games.

Also, isn't it awfully suspicious that Ralsei just seemingly popped up in Cyber World after Kris and Susie? He claimed to feel a "dark presence" and appeared, right? A little too convenient if you ask me, considering as a Darkner, his Light World form should be an inanimate object, too. How did he get from Point A to Point B on his own? As much as I love our fluffy boy, I couldn't shake the feeling throughout Chapter 2 that he's not telling us something.

Here's my theory: Ralsei's Light World form, his true form as an inanimate object, is something Kris constantly carries on their person. Something they always have with them, thus allowing Ralsei to become intimately aware of Kris' world. We have seen this object before, and while it isn't tied to any specific Dark World, this object was involved in the creation of every Dark Fountain that Kris has created, thus allowing Ralsei to exist wherever he wants.

In other words, Ralsei is Kris' knife. The same knife that helps creates the Fountains, the same one that cuts into Toriel's pies, the same one that slashed Toriel's tires.

Does Ralsei know, however? He may be at least vaguely aware. He may very well be hiding information from us (the player controlling Kris) as well as Susie. I believe Ralsei genuinely loves Kris and wants them to be happy, because Kris' knife is probably Kris' favorite object. Why else would Ralsei be so sweet and encouraging towards Kris? Why else would Ralsei encourage Kris' friendship with Susie, whom Kris actually shows signs of caring about without our input?

Obviously, Ralsei doesn't want the world to be destroyed, even if they are part of this Dark Fountain scheme. Maybe he's counting on us, the players, to guide Kris to closing the Fountains, and keep Kris from doing something they'll regret later. Creating that Castle Town and recruiting people to inhabit it is part of Ralsei's plan to keep Kris happy and distracted from carrying out their plans to possibly destroy the world. He wants to give Kris a second home, because Ralsei knows Kris' life in the Light World sucks, what with being known as the creepy kid who's never accomplished anything, and having parents with a shattered relationship, and their best friend, Asriel, is far away. Ralsei knows keeping Kris happy will delay the apocalypse.

However, if I'm right about Deltarune being a prequel to Undertale, it's pretty obvious Ralsei's plans aren't going to work. He will inevitably fail to keep Kris happy, and eventually, Kris will carry out their plan to destroy everything. It's just a matter of when.

[nightwishesworld]

hello! do you think you could do a chapter with fem!reader whose afraid of thunderstorms and wakes up in the middle of the night because of it but doesn’t wanna wake alcina so she just stays awake but the storm goes on for like a week and this keeps happening until she notices and comforts you through it by like cuddles or talking you to sleep to distract you from it :)

Oh my god I hate the way this came out. My brain just could not process this for some reason. I also couldn't make it as long as a week, my apologies.

**************

One dark evening at Castle Dimitrescu a storm rolled in. Relatively speaking, it was quite harmless and most of the inhabitants of the castle were unbothered by the storm.

Except you.

Late into the evening, whilst most were asleep, the storm was at its strongest - the crackle of thunder rolling through the halls as flashes of lightning illuminated the darkest corners of the room. You were trying to sleep, honest, but just as you felt the drowsiness of rest come to take you - a loud crack of thunder would jolt you awake and paralyze you with fear.

You sat with your back against the headboard, your breathing rapid.

You pulled the covers up to your chest and hugged your pillow close to your chest. Resisting the urge to run and hide in the closet like you used to do as a kid was becoming more and more difficult.

Another flash, another boom.

You knew it wasn’t logical, but you couldn’t stop yourself from flinching or jumping as the sounds of the storm roared outside. It was just so loud and you could swear the castle was shaking with it.

You squeezed your eyes shut, white-knuckling the pillow held tight against your chest and humming a song to yourself in order to distract your brain.

The sound of constant rain was suddenly accompanied by heavy hail falling, and that’s when the thoughts started charging at you full force.

What if the lightning strikes the castle? What if the castle collapsed? Did it have the right infrastructure? What if-

“Stop it, God. Stop it!” You begged your brain but to no avail. Your mind kept generously providing you with possibilities and images you did not ask for.

Another loud boom and this time you couldn’t help the cry let out before clapping a hand over your mouth and diving under the blankets.

When you didn’t hear anything for a few minutes you felt it safe enough to come out of hiding. Thankfully the vampire slumbering next to you wasn’t disturbed by your pathetic cries and whimpers. She had a rough day dealing with a very pissed off Mother Miranda and needed rest and relaxation as much as she could possibly get.

You forced yourself to lay still on your back and focus all your energy on controlling your breathing. That was the key to saving yourself a panic attack. You don’t know how long you were staring up at the ceiling, but dawn eventually came and your partner stirred from her sleep.

She would have been happy to see you if not for the redness in your eyes and puffiness surrounding them, obvious signs of lack of sleep.

“Are you alright, draga mea?” She wrapped her arms around your midsection and rested her head on your shoulder, kissing your cheek.

You didn’t answer, even though you knew Alcina wouldn’t just drop the question. She was sweet and caring like that, which is probably why you never had the heart to tell her how much of a coward you actually are.

“You didn’t sleep very well, did you?”

“Nightmares,” you rasped, trying to focus on Alcina more than the low rumbling outside. “I’ll be fine after a cup of coffee.”

She looked as though she didn’t accept that answer but quickly hid any doubts behind a warm smile. “If you’re sure.”

It felt wrong lying to her. You had never felt the need to hide anything from Alcina before, but this was just embarrassing. She’d probably laugh at you told her you were still afraid of thunderstorms.

The day progressed with relative normalcy despite the occasional sounds of rumbling. Alcina busied herself dealing with the mountain of paperwork on her desk for Mother Miranda and the girls were running amuck in the basement. Depending on which room you were in you could hear their laughter below you. Their mischief down there has always been a mystery to you, even now after living in the castle a couple of years. You knew what they were doing, but couldn't fathom the idea of enjoying it so much. You did find it rather disturbing that their torturing frightened you less than a stupid thunderstorm.

You huddled in the back section of the library behind the bookshelves so you couldn’t see the lightning out the windows. The loud rumbling still had you on edge, but a good book is always a welcome distraction. It worked so well, that you didn't hear Daniela approaching. You practically jumped three feet in the air when she was stood in front of you.

“What’s wrong with you?” Daniela asked, her voice was stern, but it also had a concerning tone to it. She had dropped her bag, keeping the knife at her side. Your breathing was heavier than usual as you tried to think of what to say. It was more than embarrassing to tell Daniela the truth. You knew for a fact she out of everyone in the castle would laugh at you. "You scared me,"

She rolled her eyes. "No, Dummy, I mean what's really wrong?"

You shrug and turn the page of your book. “Nothing.”

Another boom. You couldn’t fight off flinched.

“Oh, I think I get it. You’re afraid of-”

“Don’t tell anyone.” You clenched your fists, shutting your eyes tightly. Daniela wanted to laugh, but she didn’t. You watched as she cautiously sat back down. The redhead sat in front of you, the rain somehow sounding even louder than it had before. You looked over at Daniela, feeling the embarrassment creep upon you.

Daniela started at you with a rather confused expression, resting her arms on her knees. “Out of everything we’ve been through,” she began, “everything you’ve seen us do. Everything that goes on in this castle just below your feet,” she paused. “And you’re scared of thunder?”

You sat silently and twiddled your thumbs.

“Why?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you whisper. “It’s not important. You’re only going to run off and tell everyone.”

Daniela rolled her eyes and picked up her bag, headed once again for the basement. “Whatever, y/n, have it your way.”

You spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening shuffling around the library hiding from the white flashes. It was only when Daniela came to fetch you for dinner that you left. Luckily you were eating in the kitchen instead of the larger Dining Hall. The kitchen is much more manageable; marginally fewer windows to see the lightning. The meal carried on as it normally would; the girls boasted about their successes in the basement, Alcina discusses all the work she got done today and complains about the work she put off for tomorrow. It was almost enough to take your mind off the chaos happening just outside the windows. Almost.

The storm carried on just as confidently throughout the evening and into the night. It showed no signs of relenting, which in turn meant another sleepless night.

You wasted no time stripping your clothes and crawling into bed, back to the open windows. Alcina didn’t think much of it, simply chalking it up to being exhausted from the previous night’s lack of sleep. She wasn’t completely wrong, you did feel like you were ready to sleep for the next 24 hours. But you knew the storm wouldn’t allow you that luxury.

Pressure against your back and an arm wrapping around your midsection snapped you out of your thoughts.

“I hope you sleep tonight, my love.”

“Me too.”

An hour later and you were still wide awake listening to the rain being pelted against the windows. An anxious voice whispered impossible scenarios of the rain breaking through the windows and lightning striking you down in the safety of your bed. You tried your hardest to not toss and turn as to not disturb the woman next to you. She's not asleep yet, you can tell by the lack of snoring, but her breathing is starting to even out. You were curled up on your side, back to Alcina. She wrapped you in her arms, her chest against your back and arm across your waist. "Dove..." she whispered in your ear. "Y/n... "

"I'm sleeping, Al." You murmured snuggling further into the vampire’s arms, your eyes still closed.

"No, you're not." She stroked your side absently. “Are you sure you’re ok? You aren’t falling ill are you?”

You sigh. “No, I’m not getting sick. My body is just too exhausted to relax.”

Alcina hummed, burrowing her face in the crook of your neck. “I’ll stay up with you for a while.”

“You will not. Go to sleep Al, I’ll be fine. You had a long day yourself, one of us should be able to sleep."

"Why don't we go sit in the Drawing Room or the Library? I'll hold you in my lap and read to you." God no. Way too many windows. "Goodnight, Alcina." You feel her sigh against your skin, pushing a few stray hairs around. "Can I do anything?" "Stop worrying, it's just insomnia." "I'll stay up with you then. You shouldn't be up all by yourself staring at the ceiling." "I'm not alone, Love, you're right here with me. Asleep or not I'm still in your arms, and that helps a lot." You feel her smile against your neck and pull you closer against her front. "wake me if you need anything."

You actually slept fairly well; only waking up a few times to have Alcina soothe you back to sleep. Being tucked away in her embrace did a world of help, but you still woke up hours before Alcina did. Her eyes fluttered open and focus on your groggy face. She frowns.

"Did you sleep at all?"

You smile and kiss her lips. "Yes, I actually slept a lot better last night than before."

"Good," she pulls you back to kiss you again.

*******************************************************************************************

Later in the afternoon Bela and Cassandra invited (dragged you really) into the Drawing Room to play a game of cards.

Everything was going really well. You were laughing and playing with the girls like everything was as it should be in Castle Dimitrescu.

You were made astutely aware of the situation outside again when a loud crack of thunder shook the castle. There was another flash and clap of thunder, this time loud enough to make Cassandra flinch.

You abruptly shot up from the table. “Sorry. I need a minute.” You rushed down the hall into one of the guest rooms. Cassandra and Bela shared a confused glance and watched as you hurried away. They’d never seen you so flighty and nervous before. Neither could tell what was wrong.

They laid on the carpet and silently counted to sixty before following you to down the corridor.

“Y/n?” Bela softly knocked on the door. “It’s been a minute.”

There was no response. More thunder. Bela frowned. “We’re coming in, okay?”

She opened the door a crack and poked her head inside. You were nowhere to be seen. “Y/n?” Cassandra called, stepping further inside and glancing around the room. The sisters checked under the bed, then under the covers, even under the shade of the bedside lamp. Then Bela peered out of the rain-soaked window for good measure. Where else could you be?

Just as Cassandra decided she was stumped, she heard a rustling from behind her and a muffled, “I’m in here.” She turned around in confusion because the only place they hadn’t checked in that direction was…

They crept over to the closet and carefully slid open the door. The girls smiled when they found you sitting on the ground, curled up with your head between your knees. “Playing hide and seek now, are we?” Bela said. “Next round I call being the— um, y/n?”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, staying right where you were. “Sorry.”

“S-Sorry for what…?” Cassandra crouched down beside you. The closet almost had enough space for the three of you to fit.

“Y/n, please. Something’s obviously bothering you, can’t you tell us?”

All three of you startled as another flash of lightning cut into the room, followed by another growl of thunder. You tightened your grip around your legs. Bela’s jaw dropped.

“It’s the storm,” she said, half a question, half a statement. “You’re scared of thunder?”

“It’s childish.”

“Oh, y/n…”

“I’m weak. Something as dumb and simple as loud noises shouldn’t make me so—”

“Y/n. Look at me.” Cassandra’s gently stern tone convinced you to move your head so your chin rested on your knees. You side-eyed the girls, trying to imitate your usual stoicism. It was difficult with red-rimmed eyes.

“A phobia doesn’t make you childish, or weak— do you know how many people have a fear of thunder, y/n? A lot of humans.”

“A lot of Uncle Heisenberg’s lycans as well,” Bela chimed in.

“And are you going to go around insulting them? No, Y/n, because that’s not nice. So don’t insult yourself for the same thing.” Cassandra waved around her index finger as she spoke. Your eyes widened and followed the movement. Both girls laughed.

“Is that what’s been giving you nightmares?”

You shake your head. “I just haven’t been sleeping; too tense.”

Cassandra giggled. “Just ask mother for extra cuddles, not like she’ll say no.”

“Or a more intimate distraction,” Bela winked.

Both sisters giggle at the blush creeping on your cheeks.

“Can we sit here with you?” Bela asked, already taking the vacant spot on your right.

You shrugged— as much as you could in this balled-up position. “You don’t have to.”

“It’s ok y/n, we don’t mind.”

They sat on either side of you, Bela holding your hand, enjoying the comfortable silence that cast over you.

*******************************************************************************************

A loud crack of thunder jolted Alcina awake. Cursing to herself she eyed the clock across the room–2:06 am. Raking a hand down her face, she jolted again when another crack of thunder echoed through the castle. It wasn’t a minute later that an insistent downpour of rain started pelting the roof and windows followed by an angry howling of the wind. You stirred next to her in the bed. You were mumbling in what sounded like a mix of Romanian and English. Alcina swallowed thickly because she knew what that meant; another night terror. She laid back down and curled herself against you, cocooning herself against your back. Alcina placed a few stray kisses on your shoulders and the nape of your neck, smoothing her hands along your hipbone in the process. You calmed after a few minutes, your mumbling returning to the steadying breaths of deep sleep. Alcina sighed in relief and closed her eyes in hopes that she could drift back to sleep.

KRAK-OOOOOM!

Alcina sat up on the bed and saw you still appeared to be sleeping, though you looked somewhat agitated. She reached over and attempted to run her fingers through your hair but all that succeeded in doing was causing you to jolt awake.

You woke up with a strangled yell and starting crawling out from underneath the sheets. You sat with your back against the headboard, your breathing and heart rate rapid. Alcina crawled over and realized you were having a panic attack. “Y/n, can you hear me?” You nodded, your eyes squeezed shut as tears started leaking from the corners. You clamped a hand over your mouth, and Alcina realized you were trying to silence your breathing. “Honey no, don’t do that, just focus on me,” she pulled your hand away from your mouth slowly. You shook your head and tried to take your hand back. “No no no... I can’t- I-I-I can’t wake Al-Alcina,” you gasped. “It’s alright, Dove, just follow my breathing.” Alcina took exaggerated breaths to demonstrate. You started calming down slightly. “That’s it, everything is alright, just keep breathing.” You seemed to calm down more with the breathing exercises. “I’m going to get you a glass of water“ Alcina started to say, but was cut off by you grabbing her arm. “No! Don’t-don’t lea- don’t leave, please, don’t- don’t” you closed her eyes, her breath quickening again. “Sweetheart, breathe with me. In, out. In, out.” Alcina took your hand and put it on her chest. “Breathe with me. In, out. In, out.” Your breathing returned to normal. After sitting in silence for a bit, Alcina turned to her.

“Another night terror?” She asked. You looked away for a minute, ashamed of yourself.

“No.”

God, you probably woke her up, good job.

Alcina couldn’t keep an amused smile from forming. “Can my little dove not sleep because of the thunderstorm?”

As if on cue, a blinding bolt of lightning crackled down from the sky. The following rumble of thunder seemed to shake the castle. You let out a whimper and shielded yourself from the sky. “How could I possibly sleep when it sounds like the sky is falling?!”

Alcina hums and pulls you close against her. “There’s nothing wrong with a healthy fear, Dove. It brings out the human in you.”

“UGH! Just-!”

KRAK-OOOOOM!

Another shriek, barely muffled by Alcina’s shoulder, had you violently trembling. You were barely holding yourself together.

Wracked with terror, eyes shut tightly, you found yourself unable to prevent the reflexive compulsion to cling to something nearby.

Which, in this case, was Alcina, who was left staring in shocked silence at the violently trembling form with arms wrapped tightly around her midsection. She immediately wrapped her arms around you again and began rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“Calm down. You’re fine,” She spoke softly, ignoring the buzz under her skin as she soaked in the unwitting embrace like a dry sponge in water. Soothingly, she rubbed up to your shoulder blades. “There we are, my love,” Alcina chuckled. “I’ve got you. Listen to my voice,” She rumbled, speaking soft but firm as the thunder forced smaller tremors through the floor. “You’re going to relax. I’m going to help you. Just lay here with me and close your eyes. I’ll hold you all night if you want me to.”

Gradually, the sound faded and petered off back into the loud patter of rain against the windows but Alcina held you tightly still. She could feel the flutter of your heartbeat against her own, almost impressed that you hadn’t passed out from fear alone.

“Why didn’t you say anything? The storm’s been going on for days now you must have been petrified.”

“I didn’t want you to know,” you mumbled into her neck. “It’s a pathetic fear I’ve had since I was a kid. I don’t want you to think less of me.”

“You think something as trivial as a phobia would make me think less of you?” She pulled you even tighter against her. You melted into her embrace. “Clearly I haven’t been a very good partner to you.”

“No Al, it’s not like that. Gods, you’re an amazing partner. It’s just my stupid insecurities. You’re all so fearless and brave. You’re not afraid of anything, and then there’s me; tiny, inferior, afraid of a little thunderstorm.”

She sighed and continued rubbing circles on your back. “I’m not fearless.”

“Yeah right,” you scoff. “What could the great and powerful Alcina Dimitrescu possibly be afraid of?”

“Death.”

You wriggled out of her arms just enough to turn and face her. “What? But, you’re immortal. Death isn’t really something you have to worry about.”

She gave a small smile and brought a hand to cup your face. “I never said my death, sweet one.”

Oh...OH

“The girls are clever, they can get themselves out of most situations unscathed, but still, we can be slain. And there have been some pretty close calls in the past. And you,” she rubbed gentle circles on your cheek. “Your death is inevitable. It gnaws at the back of my mind every time I look at you. Every time morning I have to untangle myself from your embrace I remember that one day I’ll wake up alone and wish I cuddled with you for just a bit longer."

"Al, I didn't-"

"I can't always be there to protect you, including the girls. If I could take the brunt of all conflict for you I would gladly do so, but that's unfortunately not how life works. I'm just left worrying until I know for sure you're all safe."

She hummed into your neck and kissed your pulse point. "How selfish of me, I'm supposed to be comforting you, not the other way around. If I paid more attention I would have known, I’m sorry, my love.”

“Don’t apologize, just hold me.”

Alcina kissed the top of your head. “With pleasure.”

Soon enough you did fall asleep again, your arms still clinging tight around the vampire’s upper midsection. Alcina found a comfortable enough position and allowed herself to drift away as well.

[bostoniangirl85]

Inspector Gadget headcanon: Gadget’s hair

I’ve been watching more of the 80s Inspector Gadget cartoon and I think there was a moment or two where we caught a brief glimpse of what’s underneath Gadget’s hat, and he is definitely not bald. Which lead to more random headcanons because it’s just too hot to do anything else.^^

Gadget isn’t bald but because he almost never takes his hat off in public a lot of people just assume he’s bald. There was even a betting pool among some of the officers at the Metro City PD station what was under Gadget’s hat. Quimby found out about this and was Not. Happy. and quickly put a stop to the rumors. While some gadgets do emerge out of his hat, others like the Gadget ‘copter are part of Gadget’s body and he still has enough self-awareness that he tries to hide the more obvious cyborg parts of himself underneath his hat and coat. Which is also why for many years Gadget wouldn’t even take his hat off at home.

Penny knows this, of course, but doesn’t say anything. Gadget knows Penny knows. It’s something they don’t talk about but that’s okay with Penny. She knows her uncle better than anyone and knows Gadget is more aware of others’ opinions of him than he lets on. He may be clueless and oblivious at times, but he’s not stupid. 

Gadget’s hair isn’t synthetic either. While the accident (an explosion in my headcanon, ‘cause no way the banana peel story was anything other than a white lie) left Gadget with severe burns and burnt away almost all of his hair, Professor Von Slickstein was able to formulate a chemical that repaired the hair follicles and allowed Gadget’s hair, along with his eyebrows and eyelashes, to grow back naturally.

His fellow scientists initially balked at this, arguing it was a needless extra expense when synthetic hair would be fine. But Von Slickstein ignored them, insisting that the least they could do is give Gadget the most human appearance possible. The chemical treatment did work, almost too well, because Gadget’s hair, naturally wavy, grew back even thicker than before. When Gadget does remove his hat, it’s only when he’s at home with Penny and Brain. Same with his coat and gloves. He usually has a bad case of hat hair and keeps it a bit longer than police regulations allow because it’s so wavy. If he cut it short it would stick up all over the place.

And on the rare occasions when Gadget is ill or injured and unable to deal with his hair (he’d much rather just stick his hat back and be done with it), he’ll let Penny comb his hair out after a shower. Penny secretly wishes Gadget would leave his hat off more at home because she likes running her fingers through it and knows Gadget finds it just as comforting as she does. He looks younger with his hair naturally flopping over his brow rather than smashed back from his face but Penny keeps her silence because she knows how sensitive Gadget is about his appearance. And while Gadget will never say so out loud, he’s always deeply touched that his niece wants to take care of him. His scalp is more sensitive than the rest of his synthetic skin and Penny is probably the only person he’d be so vulnerable in front of. 

One time when Gadget had woken from a horrible nightmare and hadn’t been able to pretend he was fine, Penny had sat with him, stroking his hair in the same way Gadget has done when Penny had been small and sought him out for comfort after her own bad dreams. No one else is given such deep trust by Gadget, not even Professor Von Slickstein.

I actually found a picture that looks very close to what I think Gadget’s hair would look in real life, even the parts that stick out at the sides.^^

(And yes, I’m way too deep into this show and these characters but I don’t care.  XP).