#one of the reasons i wanted to do this (other than it sounded fun)

[igotanidea]

Penguin shaped walker: Dick Grayson x reader

summary/request: Dick teaching clumsy!reader how to skate, making a show the moment she slipped out of his hand, rushing to save her from landing on her butt after some kids bumped into her.

by @animegirlfromvietnam - thank you, I had so much fun writitng it!! I added a litle something on the end to make it even cuter ;)

***

And now, the end is near And so I face the final curtain*

This was it.

This was the exact moment she was about to look into the face of a creator and be judged for her mortal life and her sins.

Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew When I bit off more than I could chew*

She had a good life. One filled with happiness and laughter and tears and regret, but a good life nonetheless.

For what is a man, what has he got? If not himself, then he has naught*

In the last blink of her consciousness she clearly saw Dick’s face right in front of her eyes and remembered the love they shared.

But now it was her time to go.

She spread her arms ready to be taken away from the terrestrial carcass of tears –

I did it my way!*

***

An hour earlier

“I’m telling you this is a bad idea. B-A-D.” she muttered, standing on the sidelines of the ice rink, arms crossed over her chest, hat crooked on her head and despite the pout and pursed lips she was looking quite adorable.

“Come on, hon, it’s not really that hard. You do know how to rollerblade right? This is practically the same!” Dick was doing his best to convince her to put on her skates and join him on the rink, but she was extremely stubborn. He should have known better after all she was his girlfriend and he had to face that persistence more than once.

“It’s completely different! For example when I rollerblade I am not prone to the risk of having my aorta cut with a blade from the skates!”

“Y/N-“

“No! I am not –“

“This is a kids’ rink.” Dick sighed heavily, honestly getting a little embarrassed himself.

“Is not! There are adults here as well!”

“Yes. There are. Like that father there, teaching his 2 year old how to slide.”

“So what?’ she scoffed

“So what? Well, so that in this scenario –“ Dick pointed out to her and then to him “I am the daddy and you are my two year old.”

“I’m not entirely sure if you were aiming at sounding dirty or did it just happen…”

“Sh. Later. Not in public. Now you come here-“

He lunged at her, taking her by complete surprise therefore also leaving her no room to fight against his iron grip as she found herself being dragged to the rink. And the only reason why she didn’t end up bruised from his hands on her waist (yet at least) was due to her puffy coat preventing any semi-permanent damage.

***

“Oh come on!”

“No!”

“Y/n, don’t be ridiculous!”

“I just want to be safe!” she clutched the edge of the railing, making poor attempts at sliding, tripping over her own skates over and over again.

“And you think you won’t be safe in my arms?” Dick tilted his head, smirking knowing well enough she walked right into the trap he set for here. There were no good answers to that question.

“Yes! I mean – no! I mean-“

“Hey, do you want me to get you a penguin?”

“A what now?”

“A penguin-“ he pointed towards the shed on the other side of the rink crowded with over a meter high plastic figures with handles. “Unless you want a dolphin? I can get you a dolphin babe. Just say a word and – “

“No! No, I don't want a penguin! Or a dolphin! I – “ she stopped, grinding her teeth at the sight of two 12-year-olds, showing off, doing some sort of pirouettes right beside her. And Y/N was absolutely sure  they stuck a tongue at her barely holding back from following those two and rubbing their ears.

“Whoa! Whoa! Hold where you are!” Dick quickly realized  what was happening (damn the vigilante instincts) and grabbed her from behind.

“They are - !”

“I know.”

“But it’s mean and-“

“I know, honey. 12 year olds are menaces today. Have you met my younger brother Damian, by any chance?”

“Hm? Oh wait, what? You have a brother? It’s news to me.”

“I bet it is. After all, it's not like you spent two hours last night picking chewing gum from your hair. And that wasn’t even the literal 12 year old but a mental one.”

“Don’t remind me…” she muttered, pulling the hat lower on her head.

“Hey, on the bright side, if you survived Jason and Damian, this little ice skating lesson will be a piece of cake”

“Hmpf.”

“Good girl.” Dick patted her head almost as if she was a dog. “Now, are you absolutely sure, you don’t want that walker?”

“No!”

“But it’s gonna be sad!”

“How old are you?! Dick! Dick, come back here, where are you going!? Damn you! Don’t leave me! Dick---!”

***

He did this on fucking purpose.

It was his plan all along. To humiliate her, taking pictures with his stupid laughing face on the foreground with Y/N clutching the sides of that silly smiley penguin, like her life depended on it.

Well – honestly – it did, because clearly her boyfriend, her protector, was more interested in faming on social media than on actually helping her.

Exposing her to the open ridicule of the entire group of 12 year olds, who weren’t even trying to hide the giggles.

Mean girls. And boys. Mean kids.

Maybe there was some movie potential in this.

“What are you staring at…” she muttered at the penguin, clearly already losing her mind. But hey, if nothing else worked she might try to get Dick’s attention by pretending to have to be admitted to the mental facility right. Talking not just to herself but to an inanimate object that were helping her stand, even if shakily.

“Hm? You were saying something?” Dick spun around, making a perfect backward circle around her only to spin around his axis and face her with a grin, not even breaking a sweat.

“Showoff…”

“This is where hard work takes you. Now. You two are making a great couple, I think I’m getting jealous with the way you treat this penguin like your support or something-“

“DICK!” whops. Yelling his name like that was probably a mistake and she instantly mouthed a sorry and sent an apologetic smile to the mom who covered her kid’s ears.

“Oh, okay, all right. I can’t believe you are forcing me to put my hands on you and actually help you.”

“Such a tragedy, isn’t it….”

“A Greek tragedy. I am doomed now.” He laughed, and grabbed her hand with one of his own, the other resting on her back as they slowly started making baby steps.

Or slides.

***

“See, I told you it’s not that hard. You are making quite a lot of progress here.”

“Well now that I think of it, it’s getting kind of fun and – don’t you dare let it get to your head!”

Dick raised his hands in the air in a sign of complete innocence, shaking his head.

She laughed.

And then they both realized something.

He raised his hands.

He raised his hands.

Both of them.

And that meant Y/N was deprived of the support she still so desperately needed.

And – life’s funny isn’t it – a few things happened almost at the same time.

She started losing balance and before he could even reach for her – and obviously his movements were the movie-worth slow motion that stupid bitch self-appointed star of the rink rushed at Y/N with a full speed.

In the last bright thought (or not) she grabbed the girl hoping for some grounding and regaining her composure but it was futile—

“DIIIIII—”

“Yyyyyy/Nnnnnn---” he yelled and for some reason that was also in slow motion, his face stretching in a comedy style, making him look like a cartoon bulldog.

But she was not in a position to laugh at the irony of the situation.

And now, the end is near And so I face the final curtain

Yeah, yeah, we know, we’ve already been there. She was about to meet the creator – blah, blah, blah…

Damn, girls can be so dramatic at times, don’t you think?

What?

Oh, sorry, I am breaking the fourth wall here, right, right, back to the story.

“I’m dying!”

“You are not dying Y/n!”

“I can’t see! I’m blinded!”

“You are staring right at the reflector, of course you can’t see.”

“I will never walk again--!”

“Of course you will walk again, come on. I caught you, feel this?” he grabbed her waist a little tighter so she would understand she didn’t actually bump her bottom on the ice. “Would you like me to squeeze something else to bring you back to reality?”

“Don’t you dare!”

“I told you, you were safe with me.”

“So I will walk again?”

“Yes you will most certainly walk again. After your ego is healed and –  Ouch! Why?!”

“for laughing at me!” she whacked his arm again. “I’ll kiss you later when we’re alone.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. And now-“ she was about to stand up and try skating again when he noticed the girl who purposely bumped into her staring at the whole scene with wide eyes and immediately changed her plan.  “Ouch! Ouch! It hurts!” she dramatically fell right back into Dick’s arms.

“What? But you said-“

“OUCCCHH!”

“Y/N! What is going on, you didn’t fall, I don’t understand-“

“Come on, you fool, work with me here!” she hissed quietly, pointing at the girl

“You are one cruel woman, you know that? Scaring the kid like that?”

“Like you never played pranks on Damian-“

“This is different. Damian is my brother, older ones are supposed to harden the younger-“

‘He’s an assassin-“

“And yet, he has no idea about the complexity of real life and-“

“Excuse me….”

They both snapped at the sound of a soft, quiet voice and a tugging at the edge of Dick’s coat.

“Hey there.” Dick smiled encouragingly and Y/N noted to strangle him for the innate golden retriever attitude.

“Is she okay?’ the girl asked

“I think she’ll live and – “

“I’M DYING!”

“Will you stop this Y/N?”

“But-“

“I’m sorry!” The girl clutched Dick’s coat a little tighter instinctively knowing that if anyone could be her hero in this moment it was the big smiling guy. “I really am, I didn’t mean to bump into you and-“

“You were laughing at me! You and your friends!”

“Yes but – but – it was not a mean laugh. I swear, you just looked so funny and nice sliding with that walker. Like you two were just good spending time together.  And I’m not really used to old girls looking funny. Most of the ones I know just tell me to piss off and-“ the girl looked down “I’m sorry.”

“Oh you poor thing.” Y/N jumped out of Dick;s arms and kneeled to look at the girl’s face, letting go of the fact she was just called old. “It’s fine. You are forgiven. And trust me, there are plenty of mature girls, who are still funny. You should meet my friend Stephanie, that one is a jokester-“

***

“And I just really don’t know if he likes me or not-“

“Well it depends. You’re 12, right? Boys this age can be really tricky to read, unable to express their own emotions. Now tell me about that Alex girl again-“

Dick was smiling so widely, that his lips would probably end up being numb the other day.

Somehow the three of them ended up in a nearby café, each with a cup of hot cocoa in hands, while the girls were just talking and talking and talking.

Seemed like Abby was not really a mean girl, more like underestimated, omitted and a little shy one who didn’t have anyone to talk to about girl’s stuff.

Almost like someone else Dick knew and the realization made him let out a chuckle.

“What?” both Y/n and Abby looked at him, tilting their heads to the sides, narrowing eyes a little, curiosity filling their gazes.

“Nothing, nothing. Just remembered I still got those photos on my phone.”

“Mh. Sure, sure, you can tag me, I allow you.”

“Huh! As if your consent was the only thing stopping me from posting them.”

Y/N reached for her own phone and without warning snapped a photo of Dick, who was completely unaware that the foam from the cocoa reached his nose hanging there as if he just snorted.

“NOoooooo!”

Abby laughed.

“You two are funny. Really funny. I didn’t know adults could be that funny. But it seems like you two like it like this? You like each other?”

“You have no idea, kiddo. We like each other. Very, very much so.” Dick grinned and started placing little kisses on the side of Y/N’s face. “Very much indeed.”

Seven years later

"Keep holding her, Dick!"

"I am holding her!" he responded with a laugh, grabbing their little daugher a little tighter, so she wouldn't trip over her little legs that were more dangling in the air, rather than touching the ice.

"Daddy! daddy, put me down!" the five year old girl cried out "I want to skate! I want to be as good as you and mommy!"

"Oh honey, if you only knew-" Dick laughed, remembering all the time it took for Y/N to actually learn.

"Hush! Hush both of you! I'm gonna go grab a walker for you, kiddo."

There he was.

Standing in the same place, almost as if waiting just for her, still with the same smile that wasn't wiped out even after all these years and after all those little and big hands clutching him.

"Hello friend." she smiled "wanna go another round?"

*lyrics of the songs "My way" by Frank Sinatra.

[lucaanis]

oc deep dive ‼️

tagged by @deadrlngers and @aezyrraesh tysm i owe u both my life this looks so fun. and i shall be passing it along

tagging (no obligation ofc): @taamlok @ladyinthebluebox @muqington @happilyobsessing @ppavus

@togepies @quendiviner @travellingseal @theviridianbunny and YOU!! 🫵

What common/uncommon fear do they have?

Thalassophobia + drowning. Which is ironic as someone who grew up around canals and the ocean but the idea of being swept out to sea or falling into the deep abyss legitimately terrifies them. They strongly dislike being in boats and will try to avoid it unless there's no other option, but you can guarantee they will be clinging to something for safety + getting seasick 😩 They also can't swim, which exacerbates this fear— if you toss them into a body of water that's deeper than 2m they WILL start to panic and flail like a dying chicken, and one of the only times they will hesitate to act is if they have to jump into deep water. If for whatever reason there HAD to be a "jump into the water or you'll die" situation, they would be clinging to the person closest to them for dear life and saying "please don't let go/don't let me drown 🥺" Lucanis: [actively being strangled by lleyth trying to climb on top of him like a terrified cat while he's treading water] mierda, calm down, or you're going to down us both

Deep caves/the deep roads. Or just going deep underground in general. This one is much more of a mild fear compared to their thalassophobia, but still makes them anxious and On Edge. They were old enough to hear chatter about the Blight in the south when it was happening and the idea of getting stuck in the deep roads is... not one that gives them fun feelings LOL so they are nervous when venturing underground. Davrin makes fun of them for this ("You okay, Rook? Don't tell me a Crow is afraid of the dark.") and Lleyth is like. "Hardly the case. But when is the last time you've ever seen a Crow go spelunking? Exactly. It doesn't happen. There's no big open sky or wind down here— it's unnatural." a bird needs to spread their wings, etc etc. and when the cave entrance conveniently and inevitably collapses behind them and seals off the exit, they will turn and glare at davrin like "i told you so"

Failure/disappointing people. Part of it comes from the guaranteed trauma ™️ of being a crow (knowing your life is forfeit if you don't finish or fuck up a contract), but they literally can't stand the feeling that they've let someone down in some way. They will stay awake at night catastrophizing over it forever. Expressing disappointment in Lleyth = "oh so you want me to kill myself in front of you is what you're saying. I'm on it boss 👍" and if they HAVE to fail, they will go down fighting until they literally can't anymore. this bitch doesn't know how to quit

Do they have any pet peeves?

They see themself culturally only as Antivan, so it really irks them when people assume they either know or are interested in Dalish culture. Which sounds bad lmao it would probably get them #cancelled but they just. Keep politely reminding people "hey man I don't go here, I don't speak this language and I never worshiped these gods. I grew up andrastian lol" It especially bugs them coming from humans, their eye twitches every time a human merchant greets them with "andaran atish'an" and they will quickly reply in Antivan to get the point across. They're proud + defensive of their Antivan identity and don't take kindly to being separated from it.

Being yelled at or talked down to. This is a good way to get them yelling at YOU. If you don't want 3 ounces of whoop-ass trying to rip your throat out with their teeth, don't you dare do it. The only people who can do this and get away with it are Viago + Caterina and that's only because they will bite their tongue and storm off to brood about it later. (the only ppl whose authority they respect lmao)

What are three items you can find in their bedroom?

Alchemy table — large assortment of various flasks, alembics, scales, vials, retorts, mortar & pestle, etc. as well as a locked case full of poisons, dried herbs, and concentrated extracts that they like to keep on hand.

target practice dummy — for throwing knives at when they're bored or mad. it has a few scorch marks now that their magic has manifested...

pile of books — mostly recommendations they haven't had time to read or briefly skimmed through. things like beginners' guides to magic and accounts of elven magic and history, etc etc, stuff they try to read but can't really internalize because it's either too boring or not helpful 😭

What do they notice first in a person?

Body language. As an assassin they're trained to size up their marks and get a read on people quickly. They're very good at picking up on subtle details and physical cues to help them assess a situation and whether or not someone is a threat, exploitable weaknesses, etc. This is the Vibe Check.

Beyond that, the other details they notice are what kind of person they seem to be— are they trustworthy? Do they keep their word? Do they go out of their way to help others, or do they only help themselves? What motivates them? What matters to them? How do they view themselves? These are the kinds of details they pay attention to. In business, it's survival. In potential relationships, it can be what attracts them or helps them empathize, or otherwise tells them to keep their distance.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?

Physically: 9. Lleyth has experience with enduring torture, most Crows do, and they can take a LOT. When an opponent actually gets a few hits on them, it gives them a thrill. I'm sure that's normal and fine and requires no deeper psychoanalysis. They also have chronic migraines as a result of their unleashed + barely contained magic, so their pain tolerance has GOT to be pretty high just to make it through the day, albeit a bit cranky.

Mentally: 7. Formidable enough to withstand most psychological torture attempts, but not immune. Grief specifically for example would do a number on them :( And certain types of spirits/demons could definitely exploit some of their weaknesses

Emotionally: 4. Lleyth's emotions are intense and WILL explode out of them if pushed. And they are absolutely the type of person who needs to cry alone in their room at least a few times a week or they will go insane.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure? (Or freeze or fawn?)

fight. when they were trained as a child they would often get hit by instructors if they hesitated at all in an attempt to beat the freeze response out of them. crows need their reflexes. as a result, lleyth's reflexes are a little... extreme? "don't think, just act" was hammered into their head (literally) as a kid, so when bullshit happens the synapses fire at rapid speed in their head and they will Act, all right. sometimes this works out, sometimes it makes the situation worse, etc etc many such cases.

What animal represents them best?

crow — this is the most obvious one, they have a recurring bird motif throughout their entire life. they like to collect things, like to perch, like to sing, are generally pretty free-spirited but loyal to their family. they also carry grudges for 500 years and Will make your life difficult if you draw their scorn in any way. intelligent, out-of-the-box thinking, thrill-seeking. values their freedom and autonomy. and their bed is more akin to some kind of nest of soft things than an actual bed a person would sleep on 😌 showing off, preening their feathers, curious about people & a little silly at times. will bring you little trinkets if they like you, etc etc

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Alluring, short (lmao), dark & mysterious but surprisingly approachable/friendly. Very expressive and animated. Full of energy, unable to sit still or talk without moving their hands. Curious & inquisitive. Charming. Compassionate. Dry sense of humor. Has a certain vibe about them that draws you in. Their smile is warm and their laugh lights up the room. Cares about their appearance and presents themself well. Piercing eyes. You get the vibe that they know more about a situation than they're letting on. Wears their heart on their sleeve.

Do they have any hobbies?

Primarily alchemy & drawing. They're quite good at it but they don't actually tell anyone they're an artist, but it's pretty obvious when you go into their room and they have a bunch of sketches and diagrams scattered about. They also like to tinker with things (bombs and traps and the like) and sewing. Things they can do with their hands and require focus, basically.

[dynamitekansai]

THE USOS REUNITE WWE SMACKDOWN (OCTOBER 25, 2024)

[toytulini]

me, stupidly and weirdly resistant to listening to audio books vs reading a physical book for no real reason: man i wish there was a way to like, read a book while i crochet like i do with tv shows and movies and podcasts

[alertarchitect]

So! A new Doom game got announced!

Here's the trailer for those interested, it will help with what I'm about to go into:

As a bit of a Retro Throwback Shooter Shitter myself, I have some Thoughts. Read on if you're interested.

So, first of all I like the premise of exploring the time the Doom Slayer spent fighting demons alongside the warriors of Argent D'Nur. It's a time period that was purposefully left pretty damn vague in Doom Eternal, and the Slayer's lore before waking up again wasn't even really talked about much - if at all - in Doom 2016 from what I remember, since they were trying to play it a little safe due to Doom 2016 being a soft reboot of a series that hadn't gotten a new game in 12 years at that point, with the last title (Doom 3 and its various editions that attempted to improve it a bit) being a pretty big departure that had a wealth of issues, such as it being a Doom game with one of the worst shotguns ever put into a shooter. So it's a cool idea to explore this time frame of the Doom Slayer's history, and possibly show the events leading to the Slayer's imprisonment in Hell before he was rediscovered and subsequently awoken by Samuel Hayden in Doom 2016, including the Makyrs' fall from grace.

Second, I'm actually kinda hyped to see id Software still working on making retro throwback shooters. I was worried they'd get shuttered and their IP sold off after Rage was such a flop back in 2011, and they didn't make anything after it for 5 years until Doom 2016 came out, so it's nice to see they've found their groove again - making some of the best examples of the retro throwback shooter subgenre. Doom 2016 started the BoomShoot Renaissance, and Doom Eternal is still one of the best examples of the genre, mechanically. They are masterclasses in using an old formula while keeping the level design and visuals fresh with modern game design principles that have improved a lot since the 90s, along with new game mechanics to keep the moment-to-moment gameplay feeling fresh as well (such as the weapon / stat upgrade systems, the movement abilities you get in Doom Eternal, etc.). Seeing them pushing that even further is a treat to behold, and I'm confident it's going to be a pretty damn fun game, as long as it doesn't get forced into being $70.

Final point, though, is a bit of a downer for me personally. Why in the fuck are they making a game in the Doom series that's going for a more medieval-ish feel, when the Quake franchise is right fucking there and begging for a better modern entry than goddamn Quake Champions?? Seriously, making a Quake game calling back to the first game in the franchise - with the Lovecraftian inspirations, the more medieval-ish setting, the unique monsters like the Shambler you didn't see much of past Quake 1 - would be a fucking money printer. But no, Microsoft wants them to play it safe so they can get a guaranteed blockbuster because Quake Champions hasn't done very well since it came out of early access in 2022, which is definitely a fault of the Quake franchise not having any consumer interest and 100% for sure not because Quake Champions pivoted into being a fucking hero shooter trying to emulate the feel of old arena shooter deathmatching!! It's not like a soft reboot wouldn't be sorely needed after the goddamn disaster of a story that was the Quake 4 campaign! It's not like a modern Quake game that actually relies on having a fun weapon sandbox instead of relying on taking your opponents off guard with fucking superpowers on cooldowns is something the fanbase they're trying to pander to would nut in our fucking pants over or anything!!!!

TL;DR: This game looks really good and fun, and I like to see id is still making banger games, but I'm actually kinda angry that they'd rather make a Doom game with medieval vibes rather than using that other fantastic retro shooter IP they own to make something that kind of vibe would actually fit into better.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

also the Biggest Eternalest Moods

[skitskatdacat63]

you don’t have to post this but i just want you to know i totally relate i rbed an ask game post today and got no asks :/ it sucks even if it’s just a silly little tumblr game

Yeahhhhh :(( I'm glad I'm not alone, anon. This made me feel a bit better, so thank you <3

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[waywardsalt]

tag rant but man i fuckin hate the new direction for loz

[dangerliesbeforeyou]

i did it lol! my first attempt at a podfic is here (i picked a random older fic i thought would be easy to read lol... cos it's a luca fic it means u get to hear me try and pronounce things in a proper italian way (probably absolutely terribly pfft))

[poguehearted77]

Winter's Chance

Summary: It's Rafe's turn to have your son for the weekend, but it seems the weather wants you to spend the holidays together.

--Finally some Baby Daddy Rafe

With delicate rubs to your son's tummy, you desperately tried to get him to calm down with soft pleads and overeager soothing. He'd been fussing all day, so much that you'd called the doctor to make sure everything was okay.

They simply reassured you that it may just be a prolonged stage of fussiness. Most babies grow out of it around 4 months which is exactly where Max had just reached a few weeks ago.

Just when he was finally beginning to calm for a moment your ears are filled with the chime of your doorbell. Max picks up his crying as if he had never stopped. Your eyes roll, already knowing who is on the other side of the door.

You gently scooped him up to rest over your shoulder on top of the little binkie you tend to have thrown over your shoulder at all times for moments like this. He was cute, but the spit-up was never pretty and you were always prepared.

Opening the door from a distance you weren't expecting to see Rafe step in partially covered in snow. It distracted you momentarily before Max's cries cut through the shock.

"I know, I know." You whine, gently rocking him, backing away from the cold air that swept against your feet. "Hurry up, and close the door." His eyes roll, "Hello to you too." He closes the door and stomps off the snow from his boots before stepping out of them and hanging up his jacket.

"Woah, woah, what are you doing? This is just a pick-up, then you can have fun trying to calm him down at your place." Rafe stands still, his thumb gesturing to the door behind him, "You haven't seen the news, have you? They're closing the roads, so we're snowed in. The only reason I made it here is because of the suspension on my truck."

Your face turns sour and Max continues to cry.

"So why did you come in the first place if you knew you wouldn't be able to make it back?" He ignores your question for the most part, "Relax, baby. As excited as you are to see me, I didn't come for you. I came for my son. There he is," Rafe's expression lights up as he reaches for Max and takes him out of your hold.

"Rafe you can't just take him and expect him to calm-"

For the first time in seven hours, silence consumes the room. No more screams and tearful cries. "You've got to be fucking with me," You don't say it loudly, but Rafe still hears.

"Guess he was just missin' his daddy, huh? Isn't that right, Max?" Rafe's tone is playful as he pokes at Max's tummy which elicits tiny giggles and the brightest smile you'd seen all day.

You walk away, headed towards the kitchen. Not sure why you were moving so fast, Rafe was hot on your heels. "It's not your fault, it's probably just been a long day-" He finally shuts the fuck up with his smug remarks when he hears a soft cry, "Y/n," Your name rolls off his tongue, tender and sweet. "Baby, what's wrong?" Effortlessly, he supports Max with one hand while he reaches to turn you so you're facing him.

Your eyes are filled with tears, lips quivering ever so slightly and he knows what's coming. He's seen you like this more times than he can count. He takes you under his arm, your cheek pressed to his chest and you break down, muttering into the fabric of his hoodie.

He comforts you with a big hand rubbing your back, soothing you the way he learned from those parenting books that he swear he never read. "It's so hard, Rafe." Is all you manage to say through broken cries for the first five minutes before you're pushing off him, expression more angry than upset? "He was crying all day, and the second you walk in, he's perfectly fine."

Rafe's lips frown, puzzled. "And that's a bad thing?--"

"Yes! Why do you get to be Superman?!" Earlier, the sound of a pin drop would disturb Max from calming, but now even your exclamations left him unfazed, as long as he was in Rafe's arms he was unbothered.

As a matter of fact, with a second glance, you notice he'd actually fallen asleep. Just Perfect. Another win for Superman.

He chuckles, leading you both to have a seat on the couch. Your son sleeping soundly in his father's hold. "Well, I think I've got the abs for it." His shit-eating grin spreads across his lips.

"You try carrying a baby in your stomach for nine months, and you tell me if you still have abs after." Subtly, his tongue wets his lips at the memory, "All I remember is how good you looked pregnant. Shit, wanna do it again?" You'd never wanted to hurt someone so badly.

"You're lucky you're holding my son." He scoffs, leaning in slightly as if to speak away from the baby. "I seem to remember the two of us going half on the conception, and a few times after that." You air-swat him and stand, making your way for the stairs. "I'm going to take a nap."

The hours flew by as you finally had your first uninterrupted nap in what felt like years. By the time you woke up, the sun was long gone, and there was a thick layer of fresh snow sitting on your window pane. You headed downstairs and stopped at the bottom of the steps to appreciate the view.

Nothing melted you quite like the sight of Rafe taking care of Max. You hated to admit it, but he was a good dad. A really good one. Hot, too. Rafe held the bottle to Max's lips, murmuring some undistinguishable babbles with a soft smile. Surely speaking a language only the two of them can understand.

"I hope you warmed the bottle before you gave it to him." You say, and he finally notices you standing by the stairs, stalking your way over and sitting beside him.He ignores you, knowing that you're just trying to get under his skin. "You look well rested." He remarks and you sigh with a soft nod. "Yeah, I am actually." He grins to himself, "Must be a miracle to sleep well on that cheap-ass mattress you got up there."

"Sorry, we can't all have premium mattresses." Rafe pulls the bottle back once he realizes Max has had his fill. "Y'know my money is your money right? I give you ten thousand a month but everything I have is yours, too." Standing him up on his lap first, Rafe holds the baby over his shoulder, gently patting his back.

"Well, I don't need to live in a fifteen thousand sq ft house to be happy unlike you." He shakes his head slowly, his gaze falls on you, somber. "I seem happy to you? I don't give a shit how big my place is. It's always going to be empty without you two in it... " He trails off, alluding there's more to come.

"Rafe.. What are you saying?"

"Move in with me, again." Your head shakes before you sputter profuse denials, "No, Rafe, we can't we tried that before remember? We don't get along. Technically, we're not even together." The conversation is briefly interrupted by a small gurgled burp on Max's behalf.

Rafe leans down to place a drowsy Max in his rocker in front of the couch before sitting back up. "Things were different then, we were eighteen. I can't do the back-and-forth anymore. Don't you wanna wake up in the morning, see that Max is taken care of and I'm making you breakfast, then we go back to bed and I take care of you? Huh?" He hums, his voice igniting sparks along the length of your neck as he nosed along it.

"Rafe.." your voice is shaky, feeling the heat from the discussion.

"Whadd'ya say, hm?" You reflect, having Rafe stay with you today, in just a few short hours you'd been able to take a break, he held you when you cried like he always did. You'd hardly even fought. Though that was no surprise, the two of you fought considerably less ever since Max came into the picture.

"Okay, yes." You can feel the lines from his smile stretch against your jaw just before he begins to pepper kisses on your cheek. "Y'know, we made the world's cutest baby ever right?" You smile, both your gazes focused on the little one before you.

"He's got your eyes, for sure." Rafe states and you giggle, "You're just saying that because they're brown." He sits up straight, heartfully disagreeing. "I'm not. They're the same eyes that I fell in love with when I first laid my eyes on you, and the same ones that humbled me when they looked up at me for the first time in the NICU."

His words were touching. You're seeing a whole new side of him. Not the usually hot-headed and impulsive man you were used to. This one was sweeter, softer, and more sincere.

You reeled him in for the first kiss, his lips soft as they pressed against yours, his hands confidently holding you at your waist. "Ah, I see you're taking me up on my previous offer. Let's go for a girl this time, yeah?" He grins, and you pinch him.

[hoshigray]

Satoru and Suguru having a competition over who can impregnate their sweet shared lover first, please?

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: oh my goodness???....you got my attention.

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - canon divergence; implied geto is still a jujutsu tech sorcerer - satosugu taking turns with you - kissing; making out - lotus (geto) + eagle (gojo) positions - breeding kink - scratching - multiple orgasms - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up, of get tf up) - cervix fucking - creampies - clitoral play (swiping) - pet names (angel, baby, my love, pretty girl, princess, sweetheart) - humor - mention of drool + heavy depictions of come/semen.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.1k

“Oooh—Haahh! Ohhh, God, Suguu, y’ feel so good…!”

“You feel good, too, princess...Hgghh! Shit, Y/n—“

“Yo, can you hurry it up? You know I’m not a patient guy, Suguru.”

Gojo sucks his teeth while watching you get it on with Geto. It was one of those nights when they’d come home and surprise you together. Usually, one would be assigned longer shifts or missions (that one mostly being Gojo), and the other would return home to eat dinner and sleep with you. But there would be those days when they’d arrive home in unison and try to do whatever they can to have you enjoy these rare moments with all three of you.

Sometimes, it would be Gojo taking you guys to some delicious café that sells parfaits that you’d probably like or Geto having the idea to have lunch at the park and enjoy the sun together. But, of course, there’d be those days when simply being inside the apartment, talking about each other’s day, watching a random movie, and then snoring while spooning would suffice. Because it doesn’t matter what they choose to do; all three of you being at the same place is always the best!

Tonight, however, was one of those nights where they’d pull you aside, drown you in kisses and gropes, and carry you to the bedroom for a more intimate occasion. For tonight, Geto and Gojo wanted to fuck you in the hopes you’ll be with child. And what better way for the two best friends to go about such an eventful issue than by a competition to see who can fill you up the most? 

Suguru has you propped on his crossed lap, your arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands kneading your asscheeks as you bounce on his cock and wail out his name in pretty notes. This was about the third round of the night, your cunt wet and filled with both Geto’s and Gojo’s cum. The fluids stream down with every jump of your hips from the base of his girth to his balls, the sounds of your union so filthy with the groans and moans that bounce around the bedroom walls. 

Geto sighs and burrows his chin into your shoulder. “Hahhh, oh, stop your crying, Satoru. You finished your turn and didn’t hear me heckle while you and Y/n were doing it.”

The white-haired man grunts with more complaints, to Geto’s dismay. “Yeah, well, I’m not the one who takes longer to finish,” he persists, even if his raven-haired friend frowns. “I don’t want you to be the reason my dick falls asleep.”

“Tch, what you should be worrying about is finishing too quickly when it’s your turn. You act like being faster is better…Heh, maybe you can’t handle Y/n better than I do.”

“You son of a—“

“Hey now,” you’re the one who mediates the growing childish tension between your husbands, turning your face to lock Gojo in a spell with your gorgeous, hooded eyes. “Be nice, Toru; it’s Sugu’s turn now, so you can have me however you want when we’re done here, okay?”

Like a heart-struck fool, pink shades creep into the helix of Gojo’s ears as he happily complies with your request. “Okay, my princess.”

Geto rolls his eyes at his friend’s display; what a total loser. As if he has room to talk because once you turn back to face him and kiss his cheek, his breath hitches. “Come on,” you whisper. “Don’t let him ruin your fun.”

The dark-haired one chuckles before claiming your lips with his, “Wouldn’t dream of it, angel.”

As you two kiss, you rock your hips more to create a steady rhythm on top of Geto. His girth stretches your vagina nicely, and with his pulsing veins, you can feel them rub on the velvety texture of your inner walls. It’s good that the pace is at a respectable tempo, allowing you to feel him at your wits and pleasure truly.

But the best part of this position is how easy it is to stimulate your clitoris. Every time you rock your hips against Geto’s, the bulb rubs against his body and has your frame jolting. It feels so fucking good, having your cunt stuffed with his girth member and graze your walls deliciously while your precious button is being pressed.

The pacing soon goes in sync, his subtle thrusts as you bounce your ass on him while kissing. Your mewls are taken by his hungry lips, sucking on your tongue to evoke more cute noises, your hand coming to the back of his head to massage and grab strands of his onyx hair. He’s so romantic with you and your body, the position making this intimacy so much more personal. Your chasm frequently clamps on his cock when you pull your waist up, making the man below you hiss at the grip.

He breaks the kiss, “Shit, you tighten around me so nicely…”

“Really?” You giggle, laying more kisses on his cheek and ears. It sends shivers down his spine. 

“—Khhh, damn it, I can’t...” Suddenly, Geto thrusts upwards in a faster notion, and you scream to hold on quickly and follow his cadence. “Fuck, you feel too amazing, sweetheart…!” You can’t reply to him appropriately; your only responses are narrowed down to high-pitched whines and squeals. His hands wrap around your back to keep your body close as he chases his climax, his hot face melting with the sweat of your shoulder while he pushes his cock to meet your cervix. “Hmng! Hmmnn, I’m gonna cum, baby…!”

“Ohooo, me too, Sug’ruu, me—Tahhh! Ohhh, Jesus…!” Your clit keeps bumping onto Geto, your nerves getting activated with every rut. Shaky moans leave your puffy lips, and your hand scratches his back at every jab of your delicate cervix. You bring him in for another kiss – this one a lot more rushed and steamy – and your orgasm hits you both from the erratic speed of your hips.

You two sigh heavily into each other’s mouths, your body sinking into Geto’s gentle hold as his cock ejaculates his semen into your throbbing slit. His hands massage your back while his pelvis rolls to grind his dick and have your walls clench onto him more.

With a soft sound, you remove your lips from his, smiling gently while you brush his bangs off to view his left eye. “You love to finish strong, Sugu.”

He chuckles before kissing your nose. “Can’t help it if you drive me crazy, my love—“

“Alright, round’s over!” 

Before Geto knows it, Gojo’s already on the bed, yanking you off his best friend’s lap and laying you down with your back to the sheets. He voices his discontent, trying not to appear too upset. “Excuse you? Can’t let me have a moment?”

“Nope!” He shoves a middle finger to Geto’s face, and the black-headed one almost pops a vessel. “I practically went limp after watching you two for so long. So obverse from the side and let me have my fun.”

“So annoying,” Geto mumbles under his breath, yet the milky-haired one chooses not to listen with a huff and places all his attention on you.

“Now,” Gojo turns to you with half-lidded cerulean eyes, a smile beaming too much that his dimples show up. He spreads your legs to evince your messy chasm; Geto’s come spilling down to the crevice of your butt as he massages your inner thighs. Fuck, so fucking nasty, it had him bite his lip. “You ready for more of me, baby?”

You titter, bringing your legs up your chest and spread to a V-shape. “Yes, Toru, thank you for being patient.”

He snickers while pushing his glans to meet your soapy folds, humming when the excessive come lubes your labia sufficiently for his cock to be inserted. The hug of your walls makes him moan, and you jerk as his left curve scratches the plush itch. “Fuuuuck, so warm and tight for me, baby.” 

His arms support your legs in the air, and the position allows him to initiate with slow thrusts. Your purr at his movements; the curve has you howl with every push, stretching your pussy when he propels himself into you and rubs the upper wall of your vagina. Oh God, feels so fucking good…

You peer to where his dick is plunging into your cunt, silently awing at the mussy display of cum ringing around the base of his shaft and stringing to where your folds are. Holy shit, you chew on your bottom lip and move a hand to finger your clit, silently howling at the swipes you dance around your bud. “OhhhGod, hmmmm, right there…”

Gojo looks down and sees what you’re doing, and he chuckles, “Shit, you enjoying yourself, pretty girl? Hmm?” He ruts into you with sudden haste, and an abrupt hit to your cervix has you almost choking on air. “Like being filled up, huh?”

“Ahhh, y–yesss, I lov—Mmmph!!” He grinds his pelvis down, drilling his length deep inside to scuff your smooth walls. “I love y’r dick so much, Satoruuu…!”

“Awww, look at you playing with yourself,” the view excited him more, increasing his speed to pound into you. You cry out at the poke of your cervix, clamping onto him in response. “Ahhhh, there it is,” he coos while adding more weight onto you, making his rocks precise where he wants to hit. More shrieks fly out your lips, “Wanna be bred so bad, princess? Want me to fill you up again?”

Your head aches, ears ringing from the sloppy sounds of his dick rutting inside you, his balls smack your grundel with every push. “Ahhnn, mmoohhh, ye’sss,” you whisper.

“C’mon, angel, let me hear you.” Gojo places his forehead on your sweaty one, azure eyes examining your expression in a haze. “You want—Nnngh! Fuck…Want me to fuck a baby into you, yeah? Make you a mama? ”

“Yess, ’Toru, yesss!! Give me y’ur babiess, make me all fat and full!!”

“Heh, good, pretty girl; so good for—Khhckk!! Shit, shit, I’m gonna cum…” He brings his lips to yours, moaning to the kiss with you while his hips turn up to a volatile rate. Your whimpers are sucked and drunk by him, your eyebrows furrowed from the cyclical hits to your cervix and rubbing on your silky tunnel.  

Your arms come around to his shoulders, beckoning him to deepen the kiss as your body gets ready for the orgasm that hits you like a train. Trembles climb up your frame, whines muffled, and drool slips out your mouth down to your chin. Your cunt contracts around his length, milking him into his own release and filling you with his essence, adding to the pile that squelches and trickles down to the sheets beneath you. 

Gojo nibbles on your lip as he pumps every last bit of his load into you, his tongue twirling with yours until he removes his face from yours. He smiles, dimples greeting you with disheveled strands of snow-white hair sticking to his forehead. Too distracted by his charm for him to sneak in more harsh thrusts to your aching frame. 

You gasp aloud, “—Ohooo! Satoru, nooo! I’m too sensitive nowww..!!”

“Mmmm, sorry, princess,” an apology with a smile doesn’t match, placing a kiss on your forehead as you wail for him while he ruts into your vulnerable slit. “You just feel too good, can never get enou—Owwww!!”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Witness to the entire thing, Geto smacks Gojo with a house slipper before pulling him off you and throwing him to the side. The blue-eyed man looks at the other with an annoyed face. “I should be asking you the same thing, you psycho; what’s with the assault!?”

“Did you forget? Your turn is up,” indigo eyes narrow with a dark glint. “So why are you still moving?”

“Oh, quit yapping, giant earlobes! Can’t a guy squeeze in a few more before I get off…Or what, you scared I’d make them pregnant first? Your frail soldiers can’t compete with mine, is that it?” 

“Hah, you tell me, blue-eyed snowflake; you’re the one still trying to fuck into them like you’re afraid your load isn’t enough. Poor guy; can’t be a sore loser too early, now.”

“Choke on my dick!”

“You first.”

The two bicker back and forth while you observe, unable to find the right cue to intervene as you’re still in a daze. You sit on your side, feeling the liquids inside you exit your frame and slide down your thighs.

As they fight, you remember that you had forgotten to tell them that you took a birth control pill earlier today after they texted about returning home together. It wasn’t until after dinner that they said they wanted to try and fuck and fill you to the brim, practically dragging you to the room before you could utter a word to them about the contraceptive.

…Oh well, surely they don’t mean to have a baby right this moment. Plus, there will be other times! So, for now, you watch your husbands argue before you while shaking your head with a smile.

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.

[aethersea]

another thing fantasy writers should keep track of is how much of their worldbuilding is aesthetic-based. it's not unlike the sci-fi hardness scale, which measures how closely a story holds to known, real principles of science. The Martian is extremely hard sci-fi, with nearly every detail being grounded in realistic fact as we know it; Star Trek is extremely soft sci-fi, with a vaguely plausible "space travel and no resource scarcity" premise used as a foundation for the wildest ideas the writers' room could come up with. and much as Star Trek fuckin rules, there's nothing wrong with aesthetic-based fantasy worldbuilding!

(sidenote we're not calling this 'soft fantasy' bc there's already a hard/soft divide in fantasy: hard magic follows consistent rules, like "earthbenders can always and only bend earth", and soft magic follows vague rules that often just ~feel right~, like the Force. this frankly kinda maps, but I'm not talking about just the magic, I'm talking about the worldbuilding as a whole.

actually for the purposes of this post we're calling it grounded vs airy fantasy, bc that's succinct and sounds cool.)

a great example of grounded fantasy is Dungeon Meshi: the dungeon ecosystem is meticulously thought out, the plot is driven by the very realistic need to eat well while adventuring, the story touches on both social and psychological effects of the whole 'no one dies forever down here' situation, the list goes on. the worldbuilding wants to be engaged with on a mechanical level and it rewards that engagement.

deliberately airy fantasy is less common, because in a funny way it's much harder to do. people tend to like explanations. it takes skill to pull off "the world is this way because I said so." Narnia manages: these kids fall into a magic world through the back of a wardrobe, befriend talking beavers who drink tea, get weapons from Santa Claus, dance with Bacchus and his maenads, and sail to the edge of the world, without ever breaking suspension of disbelief. it works because every new thing that happens fits the vibes. it's all just vibes! engaging with the worldbuilding on a mechanical level wouldn't just be futile, it'd be missing the point entirely.

the reason I started off calling this aesthetic-based is that an airy story will usually lean hard on an existing aesthetic, ideally one that's widely known by the target audience. Lewis was drawing on fables, fairy tales, myths, children's stories, and the vague idea of ~medieval europe~ that is to this day our most generic fantasy setting. when a prince falls in love with a fallen star, when there are giants who welcome lost children warmly and fatten them up for the feast, it all fits because these are things we'd expect to find in this story. none of this jars against what we've already seen.

and the point of it is to be wondrous and whimsical, to set the tone for the story Lewis wants to tell. and it does a great job! the airy worldbuilding serves the purposes of the story, and it's no less elegant than Ryōko Kui's elaborately grounded dungeon. neither kind of worldbuilding is better than the other.

however.

you do have to know which one you're doing.

the whole reason I'm writing this is that I saw yet another long, entertaining post dragging GRRM for absolute filth. asoiaf is a fun one because on some axes it's pretty grounded (political fuck-around-and-find-out, rumors spread farther than fact, fastest way to lose a war is to let your people starve, etc), but on others it's entirely airy (some people have magic Just Cause, the various peoples are each based on an aesthetic/stereotype/cliché with no real thought to how they influence each other as neighbors, the super-long seasons have no effect on ecology, etc).

and again! none of this is actually bad! (well ok some of those stereotypes are quite bigoted. but other than that this isn't bad.) there's nothing wrong with the season thing being there to highlight how the nobles are focused on short-sighted wars for power instead of storing up resources for the extremely dangerous and inevitable winter, that's a nice allegory, and the looming threat of many harsh years set the narrative tone. and you can always mix and match airy and grounded worldbuilding – everyone does it, frankly it's a necessity, because sooner or later the answer to every worldbuilding question is "because the author wanted it to be that way." the only completely grounded writing is nonfiction.

the problem is when you pretend that your entirely airy worldbuilding is actually super duper grounded. like, for instance, claiming that your vibes-based depiction of Medieval Europe (Gritty Edition) is completely historical, and then never even showing anyone spinning. or sniffing dismissively at Tolkien for not detailing Aragorn's tax policy, and then never addressing how a pre-industrial grain-based agricultural society is going years without harvesting any crops. (stored grain goes bad! you can't even mouse-proof your silos, how are you going to deal with mold?) and the list goes on.

the man went up on national television and invited us to engage with his worldbuilding mechanically, and then if you actually do that, it shatters like spun sugar under the pressure. doesn't he realize that's not the part of the story that's load-bearing! he should've directed our focus to the political machinations and extensive trope deconstruction, not the handwavey bit.

point is, as a fantasy writer there will always be some amount of your worldbuilding that boils down to 'because I said so,' and there's nothing wrong with that. nor is there anything wrong with making that your whole thing – airy worldbuilding can be beautiful and inspiring. but you have to be aware of what you're doing, because if you ask your readers to engage with the worldbuilding in gritty mechanical detail, you had better have some actual mechanics to show them.

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 8:46

“Do you have dimples?”

Bakugou doesn’t understand it himself, but you always find your way back to his house after your first visit—asking these out-of-the-blue questions that seem to have no end to them. It’s like a curse has befallen him, one that follows him wherever he goes.

For a moment, his eyes snap in your direction, his head tilting ever so slightly to the side, though his intense glare never once wavers. He didn’t know what the hell you were getting at, and he wasn’t sure if he had the strength to even want to know why you were asking about something so random.

Honestly, he should be used to it by now. But the thing is, he isn’t, because sooner or later you’ll be popping out of nowhere with another of your pointless questions.

“Hah?”

“I asked, do you have dimples?” you repeated.

His eye twitches at the repeated question, and as much as he’d like to give you a snappy remark to get you to stop, he can’t seem to come up with one. So, for the time being, he decides to humor you (and hope for the best that you drop it and move onto another topic).

“Why the hell are you asking?”

“Because Kaminari and I made a bet whether you have dimples or not. I went with yes, you do have them—even if it’s a singular dimple, but Kaminari says otherwise,” you explained, tapping your finger softly against the coffee table.

He scoffs at the childish reason. “And what makes you think I do have one?”

“A hunch,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. “I also have just one.” You smiled, showing off your obvious singular dimple on your right cheek.

Bakugou glances at your dimple for a brief moment, eyes scanning over your face and the way that the dimple seemed to perfectly dip into the soft skin of your cheek. He almost found himself entranced for a moment, but his gaze returned to your eyes as he huffed out in mock disinterest.

He was about to dismiss your hunch—maybe just flat-out refuse to even show you—or come up with a lie. But Bakugou Katsuki wasn’t a liar.

“What happens if you win the bet?”

“I get 3000 yen,” you answered.

That’s a lot, he thought.

“I can pay you 3000 yen to shut the fuck up and stop with the useless questions.”

“There’s no fun in that!”

He scoffs again as he leans back against the sofa, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at your stupidity. He eyed you for a moment, his head tilting to the side as he sighed. “And what happens if you lose the bet?”

“He gets 3000 yen.”

Bakugou almost wanted to laugh at the fact that you were putting so much faith and money on a simple guess, but he managed to hold back on the amused expression and forced himself to remain calm and unbothered.

He leaned back a bit more, relaxing against the plush seats, letting out a mocking “tch” before he said, “What if I don’t show you if I have a damn dimple or not?”

“Please? Oh my god, Bakugou. Don’t do this to me now! Kaminari’s going to do a ‘victory dance’ when he finds out he won by default,” you half-whined.

He was about to give you his final choice when suddenly you started whining at him. Bakugou rose an eyebrow at you, lips quirking to a frown. As idiotic as it is to him, it looks like it was quite a serious matter to you.

“Tch. Whatever.”

You threw your hands to your face, groaning. “Pretty please, with a cherry on top? Spare me some sympathy—and be a team player for once!”

He found himself fighting a scowl at the way you acted. It was somewhat different this time around, and it was making him feel weird. Damn it. You’re a goddamn nuisance.

“Alright, fine. Just—” He motioned with his hand for you to come closer, an almost annoyed expression on his face. “If you tell anyone else about this other than Dunce Face, I’ll make sure you don’t ever see the next sunrise.”

“That doesn’t sound heroic at all—but yes, of course!” you cheered. “Just a little smile, and I shall confirm the goods.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up,” he muttered under his breath, already regretting giving into your stupid request but at the same time knowing that he would never let Kaminari win against you in all circumstances possible.

He let out a huff and hesitantly let the sides of his own lips quirk up into a half-assed attempt at a smile, but from the way it was so rigid, it looked more like a painful grimace.

You gave him a confused, somewhat flat look in return. “Dude, you look like you’re about to shit yourself—mmph! ” You didn’t get to finish what you were saying as Bakugou’s palms immediately squished your cheeks together to shut you up.

“Oh shut it, dipshit,” Bakugou grumbled, his grip on your cheeks tightening ever so slightly as he forced you to pout your lips. “You were asking for a smile. I give one, and you wanna give me smart ass remarks about it?”

“I didn’ even gwet toh shee anythin’! That’s how bwad ith was,” you muffled out through pouty lips.

“Are you gonna keep yapping and bitching about what you asked for, or are you gonna accept my goddamn smile?”

“Fine, fine!” you yielded, pushung his hands away from your face. “Do it one more time, and I’ll actually check this time.”

He narrowed his eyes, almost as if he were wondering if you were going to actually do as you said or go against it and keep making smart-ass comments. But as you yielded, he let out a sigh and decided he’d rather just get this done and over with. 

Less hassle for him.

He repeated his ‘smile’ from before, which looked more like a forced sneer, and he waited for your verdict. This was his last straw; he was going to murder you (not).

You had to hold back your laughter but failed to do so. “I really can’t— Bakugou, please! ” you mused, hitting his shoulder playfully. “Your ‘smile’ reminds me of that time Kirishima had to hold the biggest shit before the bell rings.”

That caught Bakugou off guard. He remembered the memory of Kirishima’s panicked expression and the weird waddle he’d walked around in as he desperately tried to find a bathroom made Bakugou snort under his breath.

“Oh my god, you’re laughing!” you gawked. “And have a dimple! Just a singular one, like mine! We’re matching.”

There it was. A singular dimple on his left cheek.

Bakugou tried to regain his lost composure and let out a scoff in an attempt to mask the slight tint of pink that reached the tip of his ears. He forced his hand onto your face, shoving you (lightly, if he may add) away from him to prevent you from getting another look at his dimple.

“It’s not a worldwide discovery, dumbass. I can fucking laugh if I want to, and it’s just a fucking indent on the cheek.”

“Still cute,” you shrugged, pulling up your phone to text Kaminari. “I need to let Kami know that I won the bet, then we celebrate with bubble tea— my treat!”

“Hey wait— You—“

He tried to protest against your sudden celebration, wanting to tell you that he wasn’t going to let you treat him for anything. This whole damn thing started because of a stupid bet, and he doesn’t really find joy in gaining something from it, but as you pulled out your phone and began to text Kaminari, he sighed and leaned back again with his arms crossed tight against his chest.

“Whatever. You’re fucking annoying.”

“Kay,” you answered. “Also, your actual smile is pretty charming, if you ask me. It’s different from the usual sneer you have on your face. That’s just my opinion, though.”

Bakugou’s face grew a bit warm at your unexpected compliment, but he quickly tried to hide it and turned his head to avert his gaze away from you. His mouth opened to reply with a snappy remark or something like that, but he found himself hesitating.

He eventually scoffed and muttered a low, “Tch. Stop spouting nonsense.”

“Bakugou Katsuki has a singular dimple,” you sing-songed aloud, though you knew that no one would hear since his parents weren’t even home.

Bakugou felt his eyes twitch at your teasing, resisting the urge to tell you off and even going as far as to just punch your shoulder lightly. “Shut the fuck up, dipshit.”

He later found out that there was no bet, and you had just made up the whole scenario to confirm your curiosity. That Bakugou Katsuki does have a dimple, a singular one at that.

Could you imagine how furious he was?

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[gojonanami]

“ A HOUSE IS NOT A HOME ”

pairing: satoru gojo x reader

summary: you come home after a long day of work unable to find the person you call home anywhere — until you reach the bedroom.

warnings: 18+ suggestive, fluff, comfort, some angst, implications of the shinjuku showdown arc, implied gojo is no longer a sorcerer, gojo is your househusband, taking a bath together, taking care of him, copium really, satoru being a silly man

w/c: 1,184

“I’m home!”

You call into your home, the clatter of your keys and shoes as you shedded the things that chained you to the outside to submerge yourself in your oasis and into his arms. But as you got no reply, you stepped into your living room, scanning over the kitchen, to find no one.

Now where was your home?

“Satoru?” you called, heart skipping a slight beat, he was always waiting for you when you got home, usually on the couch or maybe in the kitchen the clank of the knife as he chopped away. Or even the many times that he was waiting by the door to only ambush you with kisses. But this time, nothing.

You rounded the corner to the hallway and peeked into your bedroom to find him asleep. You crept closer, careful not to wake him, and yup, he was fast asleep. His pretty snow white lashes resting against his cheeks, his chest slowly rising and falling as the soft sounds of his breaths parted his lovely lips.

You could watch him sleep for hours. You knew he never did enough of it before, and you’d argue he still didn’t do enough of it now. He always said he was fine sleeping 6 hours since it was twice as much as he usually got — and now he was working at home, so he could be ease.

But even so, you know he needed more.

As if he senses your thought, he stirs, starry blue eyes finding yours as he flutters sleep from his gaze, “sweetheart?” He’s murmuring, voice still beautifully raspy from sleep, “when did you get home?” He’s shifting to get up, but you use gentle hands to ease him back, “I haven’t started on dinner yet, sweets—“

“I got it, Toru,” you’re running your fingers through his hair, “just rest, baby,” and a protest is already on his lips, “let me guess what you did today — cleaned the house from roof to floor, stocked us on groceries, cooked lunch for me for the week, and probably a million other things,” you lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, “I think I can handle dinner for one night at least,”

He’s pouting now, “but you just got home from work, Princess, what kind of househusband would I be—“ and you can’t help but laugh, he loved his self appointed title of househusband, especially since it was one he had chosen for himself, and he took any opportunity — even now to call himself that.

“I think even the absolute best househusbands need a break, and should listen to their wives, since I’m the one you want to pamper so much,” and his lips party in protest, but you’re leaning down to kiss them and his pout away, “let me take care of you, Toru,”

He’s sighing, as he leans up to press his forehead to yours, “and does your offer include a bath, sweetheart?”

~~~

“Y’know sometimes I feel guilty,” and you pause in your massage of his head, fingers tangled in his hair, suds from the bath you’d drawn for him covering both of your bodies as he leans against you in your tub, back pressed flush to yours.

“Guilty about what?” you ask, holding your tongue on the million reasons why he shouldn’t.

“For so long, I was the strongest,” he gives a small chuckle, “and it was fun, sometimes. But it was mostly lonely,” he leans back to look up at you, a small grin on his lips, “except when I was with you,” your lips curl, “and now I get to be with you, and I get to stay home — and the worst thing I have to do are the dishes,” and you snort.

“I told you I’d do them if you hate them so much,”

But he’s shaking his head, “Sometimes I think trying to deal with our cast iron is worse than fighting Sukuna—“ and you roll your eyes, “but there’s always this urgency that I have to be doing more. Telling me to keep going, moving, fighting—“

“You’ve done enough, Toru, more than enough,” your fingers cup his cheek, “too much, honestly. It’s okay to rest now. You’ve done your part—“

“But—“

“Didn’t you or someone say jujutsu is like a marathon, a baton pass?” Your fingers run through his white locks, before you shift yourself to sit in his lap instead, “the marathon is over, racers have packed up and gone home, and the finish line has been crossed,” your fingers rest on the back of his neck, tracing his undercut, “and that’s because of you and all you did to fight and raise up the next generation,” you say softly, and he’s pressing his head to your forehead.

“Is it okay for me to rest now?” and you’re pulling him into your arms, hoping your touch conveys what your words can’t.

“Yes, it is, Satoru,” you’re pressing soft kisses to his neck, “you don’t need to be the strongest. You’re Satoru Gojo, and that’s all I want,” and he leans back, “you’re all I want,”

“Is that a proposal?” And you snort.

“We’re already married, weirdo—“ and his lips find yours, as they always did, his arms around your bare waist, as the water shifted and splashed, but you could barely feel anything except his lips against yours and the circle of his thumb against the small of your back.

He finally pulls away, a genuine smile on his lips, “And you married this weirdo,” and you chuckle, tracing his jaw with your finger, “you’re stuck with me for life,”

“Promise?” And he’s kissing you again in an instant, stealing your breath like he did the first time you met him all those years ago at jujutsu tech. And you knew you’d never love anyone else — not like him.

“Promise.”

Bonus:

Satoru’s arms wrap around you from behind as the two of you towel off after your bath, “what are we having for dinner?”

“Well someone insisted on me being in here with him, so I had to order out,” and he’s grinning, as he nuzzles your neck.

“Whoopsie, hehe,” and he’s humming, as he tugs your hips against his, the friction drawing a gasp from your lips, “can we have dessert first?”

“It is dessert. We’re having ice cream for dinner—“ and he’s kissing you again, but this time it’s languid and messy — all tongue and teeth, until he’s pulling away with a smirk at your breathless face.

“I want something sweeter, wife,” and you smile.

“Think you can finish before the delivery gets here?” And he’s already picking you up with ease in his arms, pinned under him in a moment, as his ocean blues flash with mischief from between your thighs.

“I can, but I don’t know if you’ll be done by then.” He says cheekily, as you only sigh.

If there was one thing that would always be true is that you would always be weak to Satoru Gojo — but not his abilities, but who he is.

Your husband.

“Let’s see, hm?”

a/n: I’m real upset about the leaks and this is my coping. I needed this.

taglist: @staryukis, @cloverlilies, @asgoodasdead666, @strawmariee, @chuuyasboots, @forest-fruits-jam, @catsgomurp, @rat-loves, @hanlay, @risuola, @spider-fan72, @sunamatic, @difficultdomains

[cripplecharacters]

Writing a Schizophrenic Character: Everything But Hallucinations

Plain text: Writing a Schizophrenic character: Everything But Hallucinations

Hey! Mod Bert here. 

So: you’ve decided to write a character with schizophrenia or schizoaffective disorder (there are other disorders on the schizophrenia spectrum but I will be focusing on these for today)

You’ve done it, you have their hallucinations and maybe even delusions picked out. Maybe they are one of many who experience auditory hallucinations or maybe they also have visual hallucinations or a combination. Maybe they have olfactory hallucinations as well. They may have persecutory delusions or delusions of reference or something like Cotard’s delusion or clinical lycanthropy. Awesome, you’ve done it!

What, I hear you say? What do you mean that’s only 2 of the 5 components needed to be diagnosed with schizophrenia? What do you mean, you don’t need to hallucinate at all to be schizophrenic?

What Goes Into a Diagnosis of Schizophrenia

Plain Text: What goes into a diagnosis of schizophrenia

Not a lot of people realize there’s more to schizophrenia and schizoaffective than just hallucinations or delusions. There are 5 diagnostic criterias that are needed for schizophrenia, and only 2 of the 5 are needed for a month, with larger symptoms happening for six months or more. Let’s get into it.

Delusions

Hallucinations

Disorganized speech or thinking*

Disorganized or unusual motor behavior (catatonia)*

Negative symptoms (avolition, anhedonia, flat affect)*

I’m going to focus on disorganized speech/thinking, catatonia, and negative symptoms.

Disorganized Speech/Thinking

Plain Text: Disorganized Speech/Thinking

Schizophrenia and related disorders are often called “thought disorders” for a reason. Speech and thinking can be extremely affected, and for people like me this can be one of the first and most striking examples of an episode coming. Some people will always have disorganized symptoms that will flare during episodes. A myth is that schizophrenia can be indistinguishable with medicine: most people will have some level of symptoms even during moments of peace or “remission”. More on remission later. 

So, disorganized speech. Some examples are: word salad (schizoaphasia), thought blocking, poverty of speech (alogia), pressurized speech, clanging, and echolalia.

Word salad: a combination of words that do not make sense together. Often called schizoaphasia for its similarity to jargon in Wernicke’s aphasia, this is instead a disconnection with the brain and not due to damage to the language part of the brain.

(Example: the salad would be yellow in the fat cow).

Thought blocking: A severe loss of thought, often paired with connecting two trains of thought that are not connected

(Example: I went to the………Do you like grapes?)

Poverty of speech: A lack of organic responses to speech or organically speaking, it can be severe enough that a person only responds to questions or in one word responses. Can also happen in severe depression.

(Example: Person A: Did you do anything fun today?

Person B: Yes.

Person A: Oh, what did you do?

Person B: Store

Person A: How was it?

Person B: Fun)

Pressurized speech: A sort of frenzied way of speaking associated with psychosis or mania.

Clanging: Connecting phrases together because of what they sound like instead of meaning

(Example: I went bent tent rent).

Echolalia: Repeating word’s and phrases. Commonly also associated with Autism Spectrum Disorder. 

(Example: Person A: I went to the store.

Person B: To the store.)

These are not the only examples but they are some ones I thought I'd highlight, either because they’re well known or I have experience with them, or because they’re famously thought of with other disorders as well and I wanted to point out how things overlap.

Personal experience: I had severe alogia for the duration of my last and worst episode. People thought I was mad at them because of the clipped way I spoke and the lack of really speaking. It got me in a lot of trouble. I didn’t realize what I was saying was different or weird (I have the least insight when it comes to my speaking patterns affected by my schizoaffective, meaning I can’t hear any difference and all of this is from repeated conversations with my mom, who was my caretaker for a bit and knows the most about my speech and what it means). The best solution was talking with people and being honest and educating myself and others. I don’t know about others, but I couldn’t have used AAC at that time.

Catatonia

Plain text: Catatonia

Fun fact: catatonia means unusual motor behaviors! Any unusual motor behaviors mean catatonia. This includes what we think of when we think of catatonia in schizophrenia (inability to move) as well as the opposite (being unable to stop moving) as well as strange movements and ways of holding and moving the body! Catatonia in the DSM-5 includes 3 or more of these 12 behaviors:

-Agitation unrelated to external stimuli

-Catalepsy

-Echolalia

-Echopraxia

-Grimacing

-Mannerism

-Mutism

-Negativism

-Posturing

-Stereotypy

-Stupor

-waxy flexibility

I have some experiences with catatonia-like symptoms but since they were never identified as such I’ll skip those for now. I will say that catatonia is a symptom that can happen in many disorders besides schizophrenia as well.

Negative Symptoms! Yay!

Plain text: negative symptoms! Yay!

So a positive symptom (Hallucinations or delusions) are symptoms that add something to reality or a person. Negative symptoms are symptoms that take away. There are 5 A’s:

-Alogia (Again, poverty of speech, our favorite)

-Avolition (Lack of energy and motivation)

-Affect (Blunted affect, or a flat way of speaking)

-Anhedonia (Lack of pleasure in things that used to bring you pleasure, often thought of with depression)

-Asociality (Lack of interest in social events and relationships)

There are also often cognitive changes including thinking and memory, information recall, understanding, and acquisition, and so forth. 

Schizophrenia and schizoaffective often (but not always) happen with what’s called a prodromal period. This period can be months to years (mine was a little less than a year) and mainly consists of negative symptoms. Slowly, positive symptoms are added. There are thought to be stages to schizophrenia including prodrome, active phases, and remission.

I’ll talk about that a little for a second because I’m currently in remission and no one knows what that means. I was diagnosed with schizoaffective depressive type in January 2021. As of February 2024, I no longer qualified to be rediagnosed because my symptoms were strongly under control and no longer severe enough to qualify for a diagnosis. They also didn’t distress me or impact my daily life severely. Day to day now I still have mild symptoms and take my antipsychotics (trying to go off them have made it clear that I still have some symptoms I choose to keep medicating) but I haven’t had a delusion in 2 years and been hospitalized in 3. There’s always a possibility of another episode but I work with my team to keep myself one step ahead if that happens.

What I want from a character with schizophrenia

Plain Text: What I want from a character with schizophrenia

Alright the writing advice part. What do I want from a character with schizophrenia or schizoaffective (which is schizophrenia plus either depression or bipolar). 

-Characters with caregivers.

-Characters using coping strategies (recording hallucinations to tell if theyre hallucinations, taking medication, having service animals that greet people so they know if they’re a hallucination, using aids for the cognitive symptoms like sticky notes and organizational tools)

-Characters who know other characters with their disorder, either online or in support group or through running in similar circles

-Characters having autonomy

-Characters who aren’t the killer or horror victim. I know it’s cool to have the schizophrenic protagonist in horror, and I love horror, but I don’t want to read about the horror being symptoms the whole time

-Characters who are in magical scenarios, who are in fantasy and sci-fi. The schizophrenic princess and the schizoaffective robot technician aboard the spaceship.

-Medication and hospitalization treated casually. Sometimes we need higher care. That’s morally neutral

-Characters with negative symptoms and speech symptoms.

-Characters with catatonia! 

-Characters with other disorders as well

-characters with side effects from medicine treated casually

-Characters with cognitive symptoms

Thank you for reading this incredibly long thing! Happy writing!