#selfshipping can actually be such a healing thing

[shalomniscient]

sevchino req!!! wanna see protective arle to the children please,,,,,,father in action raahhhh

you and me BOTH anon 🥺🥺🥺 ......................

protective || sevchino

cw. none (?)

notes. yeah i like bullying pantalone (and not in a fun way like a bully rahu). sue me. also super self indulgent with no consistent pov dshjjdfhk

"My, my. What's a little girl like you doing in a place like this, hm?"

Estelle hugs the little bear closer to her chest. Her father had told her to stay in the office, but she was taking so long, and it was starting to get lonely...

She lifts her eyes up from the ground to look at the man crouched before her. He has long, dark hair that reminds her of her father's with how soft it looks. He has a polite smile on his face, but it doesn't reach his eyes. And his eyes—something about them made her nervous.

"I'm here with my father," she answers quietly, squeezing her toy. "I was supposed to stay in the office, but..."

The man clicks his tongue. "Tsk. Poor little thing, did your father leave you behind?"

Estelle bites her lip. Should she answer him? Father always told her not to speak with strangers, but it's been so long, and she wants to go home. She knows she'd begged her father to let her tag along, but now, all she wants to do is go home to her mother and Noé.

So she nods, looking back down at the ground. The man sighs, and rises back to his full height. He's tall, towering over her, and the way the lights backlight his form makes Estelle reflexively take a step back. He looks down at her down the bridge of his nose, the silver rim of his glasses glinting.

"Then how about I help you find her, hm?" he asks. "I think I know exactly who your father is."

Despite her apprehension, Estelle brightens. "Really?"

"Really," he nods. His white cloak parts, and he extends a gloved hand to her. But before he can take her smaller hand in his own, an arc of pure, blistering flame snakes around the girls feet, creating a protective, blazing wall. But around the girl, the fires cool, warm and comforting instead of threatening.

Footsteps echo like thunder down the hall, and the man tucks his hand back into his cloak, those dangerous eyes turning sharp, and a venomous grin creeping onto his face.

"We meet again, Knave," he sneers. Estelle turns, and standing behind her, expression twisted into a level of fury she's never seen before, is her father. A blood-red wing pulses over her left shoulder, flickering and shifting in the light. In her father's hand is a mean-looking red scythe, radiating a furious, hungry aura.

"Stay away from my daughter, Regrator," Arlecchino snarls, practically vibrating with rage. She keeps her eyes trained on the other Harbinger as she kneels down, and Estelle runs into her waiting arm. Pantalone watches it all with a deceptively placid smile.

"You know," he hums, "she has her eyes."

Arlecchino glares at him with enough fury to kill a normal man. But as much as she loathes the waste of breath before her, he is still a Harbinger, and Harbingers have always been far from normal.

"Do not speak of my wife," she says lowly, dangerously, cradling Estelle against her chest. Estelle tucks her head beneath her father's chin, one small hand winding tight in her father's jacket and the other clutching her bear plushie. The little thing's fur is slightly singed. Then, her father's gaze shifts from the man and to her, and her eyes soften. "Are you alright, starshine?"

Estelle nods, snuggling closer against her father's warmth. Arlecchino presses a soft kiss to her forehead, then turns back to Pantalone. She dispels her scythe, but it does not make her any less deadly. She considers, briefly, ripping the man before her to shreds; but Estelle takes priority, and she'd hate for her daughter to have to witness such violence, so she turns on her heel and walks away instead.

She will ensure the Regrator understands that her family is off limits in other ways.

[txmxkis]

i'm only really me when i'm here with you

pairing. boothill x gn!reader

genre. hurt/comfort

wc. 1.5k+

summary. you're determined to help boothill heal from his trauma by... doing his hair?

warnings. i took liberties with this, who knows what specific parts he actually has left or whether he can blush or not (in my heart he can lol), mention of boothill picking u up but i mean. he’s literally so strong he could handle anything, i made him soooo sad and it’s possibly wildly out of character, selfship coded as usual rip

a/n. continuing the tradition of using lyrics from songs on selfship playlists for fic titles lol. based on my tags on this post

they say that trauma is stored in the body, and while boothill didn't necessarily have a complete body anymore, this was still something that you thought about frequently when it came to his physical form.

regardless of just how much of his original self remained, there was still enough of him left that you were sure it had to be true in some capacity. after all, he retained his head and his heart—at least you were fairly certain—two of the most vital components of human anatomy.

it was so hard to read him. the real him. he tried so hard to always act confident and cool. actually, he didn't even really have to try or act. it seemed as if it came to him naturally and endlessly. there was a perpetual air of optimism surrounding him that was difficult to dim even on his most wearisome days.

even after experiencing whatever horrors he had to face from mission to mission, when he came home, the door to whatever room you were currently in would fling open—sometimes scaring you half to death—and he would greet you so happily that it felt as if there were no terrible things in the universe whatsoever.

you cherished his mannerisms, especially because you could be a pessimistic sort of person. rather frequently, in fact. you loved having him near you, able to draw laughter from you, however unwillingly it might be on your part at times. he was oddly skilled at making you feel assured and comfortable, in a way that nothing and no one had ever done before. you couldn’t seem to remember how you ever lived without his encouragement, and you didn’t think you could ever feel truly whole without it again.

there really was no accounting for his relentlessly positive attitude. given what he'd seen and endured, you thought it was damn near impossible to be as carefree as he seemed to be. at any rate, he did manage it. however, there were times, moments he rarely ever allowed you to witness, in which his façade would falter slightly and betray just how heavily the past weighed on him.

occasionally, you would catch him staring at his reflection, a downcast expression painting his beautiful features. every time you spoke of your family, you could detect glimpses of sadness in his eyes, albeit hidden behind a smile. once you even caught him crying as silently as he could—you assumed so as not to alert you—his shoulders sagging under an unforeseen weight, a look on his face that you could only describe as heartbroken. your own heart broke with his in that moment.

you always tried to be particularly attentive following those moments, but it was so difficult to get him to open up to you. he just wanted you to be happy. to not bother worrying about him. you had your own problems, after all, and there was no need for him to add to your burden. no need for him to ask for your pity.

he knew you cared for him deeply enough that it would cause you pain, and even if it was only a fragment of the grief that he lived with every day, he was sure that he would feel terribly and incessantly guilty about it. if he could remove every single aspect of your life that caused you suffering, he would do it in a heartbeat, and he could say that because it was one of the few original parts he had left. how could he add to that suffering by forcing you to imagine all the horrors from his own life?

it took so much time and effort on your part to convince him to open the door to himself, if even just a tiny crack. he was still extremely careful with his words and the details that he disclosed to you—he didn't want to overwhelm you, and he certainly didn't want to hurt you. in reality, these conversations, painful as they were for you to hear, actually helped you to feel as though you could comfort him more effectively.

yes, it hurt immensely to know even a small fraction of how much anguish he had experienced. yes, you despised the people who had done this to him and wanted to fight them yourself, in fact. yes, your chest felt tight with ache and sadness on his behalf. still, you could help him more by knowing than by not knowing.

eventually, you were able to make it this far, brushing through his hair as gently as your hands could manage. he had confessed to you in one of his more vulnerable moments that the white shock of hair on his head often served as a stark reminder of worse times, of the trauma and stress inflicted on his body. the admission gave you an idea, one that made boothill feel more than just a little bit exposed. he wasn’t accustomed to being looked after like this, with so much affection and love.

you began to make a routine out of it. every day you would do something with his hair—whether it was braiding it and tying it up intricately to make him feel pretty or simply combing through the strands and allowing them to cascade around his shoulders and down his back.

sometimes you would sit him in front of a mirror while you worked so that he could see exactly what you were doing in the moment. he didn’t quite understand how it all came together, but he found it fascinating to see how you twisted and weaved. at times, you were so focused on the hair in your hands that your brows would furrow, tongue poking out slightly between your lips. in the reflection, you genuinely looked like you were enjoying yourself.

even more noticeable to him was the expression you wore when you looked at him through the mirror. your gaze was so full of tenderness that his chest ached. he could swear that his heart actually skipped a beat. whenever that happened, you could see a flaring blush creep up his cheeks and into his ears, and you couldn’t help but laugh just a little bit at how endearing it was.

other times, you would settle on the couch, with him seated on the floor between your legs, adorning his hair with the cutest accessories, the two of you laughing and joking the whole time. you would delicately twist the locks back, securing them with pretty, multicolored clips that shone in the light.

when you were done, you would lead him slowly to a mirror, hands over his eyes, nearly stumbling over his legs as you walked behind him. you would pull your hands quickly from his face, revealing your handiwork, beaming with pride and grinning at how adorable he looked. he loved every minute of it—and every bit of you, he would think to himself as he turned to pick you up and spin you around, laughing in that deep voice of his. then he’d set you down gently, thanking you for your hard work with kisses sprinkled across your face.

days that were particularly trying for him would simply be spent in comfortable silence. when he didn’t feel like talking from the pain of it all, he would wordlessly lay his head on your chest as you ran your fingers through his long locks. feeling your touch—the slight pull on his scalp, the tickle of shifting hair—it all made him feel so relaxed that he could melt right into your skin until you absorbed him fully into you. often, the combination of this and the gentle, steady beat of your heart would lull him to sleep, and seeing his expression ease and soften in these moments was all the reward you ever needed.

in the beginning, it was unclear whether this dedicated time spent caring for his hair was helping or not. over time, however, you noticed a glimmer in his eyes—something that told you he would be alright, despite everything.

pain still remained; it always would, but instead of constantly gazing at his reflection with grief, every once in a while you would catch a hint of a smile pulling at his lips. it was as if he was remembering how you hummed while placing those clips, or how he had teasingly whipped you with his hair on a more playful occasion, or any number of positive memories that you had put so much effort into lovingly crafting with him.

you were determined to do your best, slowly but surely, to lighten his burden—or at least help carry it. there was no reason for him to feel alone when he had you by his side. and if creating these happy memories was what you had to do in order to help him, well, you would gladly continue forever.

reblogs & interactions are appreciated! thank you for reading! <3 — txmxkis

[trauma-bot]

ouuuu i need the lore... i love selfships so much.... nuze lore please.... if you want..........

YAY YAY YAY. im gonna try so hard to keep this somewhat brief to leave room for any more questions but we'll see how that goes <3

so to preface this E does have a toyhouse bio that you can look at if you're curious! it has a more in-depth look at his personality and whole deal. you can also look at his gallery if you'd like; thats where his references and other artwork for him are stored!

ALRIGHT. RAMBLING UNDER THE CUT

a lot of it is very much to fulfill my weird convoluted fantasy of "what if i lost all hope for a future that i exist in and was convinced that i was going to succumb to the claws of my trauma and rot there forever (basically dooming myself in my own narrative) thus becoming the absolute worst version of myself in what i believe to be my final moments only for someone (two someones in this case) to love and believe in me so much that, despite it all and despite everything that was done to me and that ive done myself, gives me enough hope to undoom myself". i'm normal i swear.

also just generally im a big big sucker for stories about survivors of trauma being there for each other, and in that way i get a lot of comfort from nuze.

SO. NUZE LORE... (once again shout outs to my bestie night for coining their ship name lol)

i guess ill break it down like this, starting with N/E. (alt. ship name being pupE love (coined by another bestie of mine charlie)) E knew N back at the manor and they were close friends then, N was the first person E came out as trans to (by that i mean. N helped E work through his tumultuous robo gender feelings in real time) and N was the only one E really felt comfortable around. (other than tessa! E was also friendly with V back then as well<3)

however, E was also badly traumatized by his time in the manor, and of course Canon Events happen. E, as a disassembly drone, is now much more muted, detached, numbed, and devoted completely to their directive. he's very very very repressed and his specific brand of memory issues as well as the fucked up memory dreams causes him to dissociate and spiral a lot. he also distanced himself a lot from N for reasons even he isn't entirely privy to. something in his hardwiring just told him that N would be safer the less E stayed with him. and N is!!! really saddened by that!!! its normal! E has to learn to not be an emotionless object and actually let himself feel and need and yearn, and N is a big help with that (uzi is as well ofc!!)

i have to skip past a lot of things for the sake of not making this post so many words long but regardless; N/E is really special to me because they are two people who are in a very similar and scary situation and have had to see each other get hurt or even killed in many clone instances in many reset memory files. and its the just. the willingness to love despite knowing what happened to you and even witnessing it at times, to say "this is not all we are" and break free from those iron chains despite knowing how much it'll hurt and how dire everything is. E is so convinced that its all worthless and he couldn't be anything more than what he's used for, while N desperately wants a better life for himself and those he loves, and he's gonna drag E kicking and screaming to hope and healing. <3

NOW. UZIE :3 (alt. ship name is angelfangz)

E is MIA from the squad until like right after episode 3 canonically happens and is found by uzi and N. uzi does not trust E at first not one bit LMFAO. she doesn't hate him but like. her only frame of reference for murder drones besides N is V and J. and also E is like. he's weird and says weird cryptic things and is not exactly the easiest to talk to due to how off-putting and repressed he is. at first E is like "why is there a worker drone. in the spire. and we're all okay with this" but after actually getting more context behind Everything he's curious about her more than anything. he has to be swayed into betraying his initial directive (kill all worker drones. yknow) only because thats like all he knows how to do and would feel aimless without it, but once he is he's loyal to his new directive (help uzi figure out what the hell is going on with this solver business). yeah he treats himself like an object that can only find worth in being ordered around but we dont have time to unpack all of that right now. he unlearns it later i prommy.

uzi is like. spitefully resistant to getting to know E on a deeper lever, but this is uzi "no bonding thing" doorman and she cannot help but care about E and be concerned about his behavior. she will notttt admit that however and stubbornly holds her ground. it isnt until post-episode 4 when E and uzi are fully vulnerable around each other.

uziE is. so so very important to me. uzi has been outcasted and isolated for so much of her life, she's been treated as a weirdo freak monster by her classmates and becomes outwardly prickly and aggressive to cope with how little affection and reassurance she's been given. i know she's internalized it to mean there is something wrong with her that everyone else can see, and its only a matter of time before those who actually care for her see it too and leave her. and i know that the events of episode 4 confirmed it in her mind, that she is a freak monster and everyone was right to avoid and hate her, even though she never asked for any of this. thats a very familar feeling to me- and by extension E. E recognizes the feeling of being made into a monster against your will, of fearing and being unable to trust yourself, and of feeling like its best for everyone's safety to hide away. E and uzi find solace and comfort in each other for that. they dont see each other as broken irredeemable monsters, so maybe they aren't.

im stopping here because holy shit this got long but THERES A LOT MORE LOLL. tldr nuze altogether is very very important to me and i could talk about them forever and ever. they love each other all so much and they grow and heal and forgive and aaaaughhhgh<3 im normal.

[izvmimi]

cw: selfship-coded. reader has just joined the black bulls and has water attribute recovery magic. fluff. reader and asta are both still young (pre-timeskip).

Your hand sways before you, a bubble of water traveling through space at your command. You raise your other hand and spread them apart, expanding the bubble. Slowly it widens and widens and widens as you concentrate until it is the size of your body before you, and finally, it bursts in your face, forcing a gasp from you as your clothes are drenched. It’s temporary however, and as you breathe in, the water seeps through your clothing to be reabsorbed into your skin.

Now dry, you let out a sigh of relief. You feel a little overloaded but eventually you’ll just need to pee the rest out when you equilibrate. Your Grimoire remains closed at your desk, but you’re focusing on making your lower level spells stronger and the water bubble that you’ve been able to generate and control at will for as long as you can remember much more versatile and able to cover more surface area at once.

You’ve been part of the Black Bulls for six months now, and however difficult it may have been to integrate at first, you find that things have somewhat mellowed out. While you spend a lot of time trying to temper your cousin’s bratty behavior and keep yourself from being rattled by your squadmates' overall uncouth manner of being, you’ve grown quite fond of the group, and this transition period where you’ll only be working some parts of the week and not others has finally snuck up on you faster than you expected.

Your tense conversation with Yami feels like so long ago yet so recent, where you’d leant heavily into your royal standing to get what you want, not unlike Noelle, as if it weren’t the reason you felt so stifled every day of your life. Now a part of you wonders if you shouldn’t arrange for a longer stay, to spend more time on missions with your new friends. To protect them. To return the favors granted to you by the members who taught you to fight and gave you a reason to heal fervently other than the commoners who came into the clinic in the capital.

Either way, you have a duty to uphold.

Dinnertime is served soon and Charmy’s Sheep Cooks don’t need you for a nutrition boost with your water enchantment, so you only find yourself there when everyone else is seated. Yami sits at the center of the table, and eyes you disaffectedly as you sit down, but you’ve long stopped being at odds with him.

“It’s about time that you show up,” Noelle quips, but she’s normally gentle with you. 

“Say something else and I’ll get up and leave,” you reply with a wide smile, and she glances at you for a moment, then harrumphs. She hasn’t forgiven you for even considering leaving her here with the ‘brutes’ and ‘commoners’.

“It’s not like you aren’t already ditching us.”

“Hey, that’s nwo hwway to tweat our gwuest of mhwonor!” Charmy says through bites of food. Vanessa laughs through her third bottle of wine - no, liquor - while Magna and Luck return to their usual bickering with Yami not yet intervening. When you turn, you realize Gordon at some point has crept up to your other side and he’s saying something completely unintelligible. You nod politely, still with your blood running cold.

You haven’t quite figured him out yet. You try not to think about Grey at all.

Finral has figured by now that you probably won’t ever go on a date with him but he still tries from time to time to make a pass, although he’s settled for surreptitious winking. Sometimes you wonder if you should let him have a pass at you just to watch him crumble when he realizes he actually has no idea what to do with a woman once she’s accepted him.

When you slide your attention away, you realize there’s one person missing at the table, as Noelle spoons food onto her plate and then kindly, yours as well. 

“Hey, where’s Asta?” you ask her. 

Overreacting as usual, her face turns a deep red and the bowl of baked potatoes practically clatters as she sets it down.

“H-how should I know!?! I’m not his keeper or s-something!”

If you could roll your eyes, you would, but instead you give her a pass, then look to the rest of the group.

“I think he was out training, I don’t think he got the memo that we were having dinner early.” Finral offers, leaning in so close on the table, face propped up by his hands, he might as well be laying on it.

“Then go fucking get him,” Yami growls under his breath and suddenly the room tenses up and straightens. 

Magna is out the door immediately with a “Sir, yes, Sir!” but collides right into Asta who is running in at nearly the exact same time. 

“Oh shit, sorry!” he exclaims as Magna clutches his head, although his own forehead will probably start swelling shortly. The two boys make their way over to you automatically and with both hands you split your bubble and tap their foreheads gently with cooling water. 

Asta is muttering apologies for missing your farewell dinner while Magna reminds him to watch where the fuck he’s going. As usual, Noelle glances at your hand on Asta’s forehead carefully before you withdraw it. 

“Watch where you’re going, insect! You’re making her have to use mana unnecessarily!” Noelle also jumps in, and Magna gives her an exasperated look. 

“I didn’t mean to…” Asta starts but he trails off and looks at you. You smile at him, sensing he has something to say and wonder why he’s hesitating. Asta’s loudness has a tendency to be muted around you, you feel, and you wonder why. Although you and Noelle are similar in terseness at times, you try to be kind to him as much as possible to compensate. Right now, he looks somewhat aware in addition to being somewhat disheveled and dusty, although that’s expected from someone who’s probably been swinging a sword repetitively for hours and hours. 

“Does something still hurt?” you ask. 

“No,” Asta starts, then scratches his head. “I-”

“Why don’t you sit down then instead of wasting time? The food’s getting cold.” Yami interjects. Asta seems to freeze in place then nods, scurrying to his seat before Noelle hisses something about cleanliness and Asta remembers to disappear to wash his hands.

When he returns, the lot of you have the planned farewell meal, moot because you’ll be back in exactly a week. Yami smokes the entire time and you remind him that the habit probably won’t be conducive to living long.

“Magic Knights aren’t exactly expecting to live to 100,” he reminds you. 

“Maybe you should aim for it,” you reply. He rolls his eyes.

“Just remember that you play Doctor, it doesn’t mean you are one.”

You consider being offended, but you laugh. Magna, kind to you despite his rough exterior watches you first before deciding to laugh as well, and by the time a couple hours pass you’ve eaten and laughed your fill. 

—

Before you retreat for bed, you hear a knock on the door.  You expect Noelle, here to complain and possibly cry for abandoning her, but it seems that at this point she’s expended all of her pleading energy and has now decided to pretend to be unaffected. You practically slip as you tiptoe to the door, but when you re-steady yourself and open the door, you find not Noelle but Asta.

You blink and in your surprise forget to actually say anything. 

Misinterpreting your surprise for annoyance, Asta seems to panic, his face reddening as he tries to explain himself.

“Hi, I, uh…” he scratches his head again like earlier, and you furrow your eyebrows.

“Is everything okay?” you ask. Adjusting the folds in your nightgown you wait for him to speak, then remember that you don’t wear a bra to bed and both of you are teenagers, crossing your arms quickly over your chest. “C-can I help you?” you add.

He turns quickly for a split second, then turns back to you. Taking a deep breath, he says quickly, lowering his eyes to the ground.

“I just wanted to say thank you for everything!”

“Everything?”

He takes another deep breath, and then in another flurry of words.

“You didn’t call me a commoner or make fun of me for not having magic! I just thought you should know I appreciated it!”

His hands are pressed to his sides very carefully as though he’s bowing to you and you find yourself both touched and embarrassed. You laugh nervously. 

“I’m not doing anything more than being normal,” you remind him. 

He looks up at you, and you nod.

“But Noelle and everyone else…” he pauses before you can say anything more then smiles widely, holding his head up a little higher. “Right.”

“I know we nobles can kind of suck sometimes but-” you start, but he shakes his head vigorously and you trail off. 

“It’s no problem! Good night!”

Your jaw falls open just slightly as he, energetic as always, turns and speeds off.

It’s a strange encounter, and you’re never really sure what he’s thinking or what the point of all of that was really. But you think about how earnest he is, always, when he’s helping you train, when you’re healing him, when you’re simply talking. 

You’ll just be gone for a week, you’ll be right back here with everyone, going on missions together. With fiery Magna, crazy Luck, sweet Charmy and Rebecca and Noelle and silly Asta.

And at the thought of that again, your own cheeks start to warm.

[huntinglove]

Deltarune self inserts infodump time!!

Warnings: Age gap (adult x minor), one sided pseudo incest and yandere behaviors

Okay so----- my wife and I both like some characters from Deltarune (she likes Susie and I like Kris, Ralsei and Rouxls) and so far the lore for our self inserts is:

We're sisters and we move into Hometown after Kris first takes the soul out of their chest (my S/I being the embodiment of said soul) and we both start working at the school! I'm a history and art teacher and she's the school nurse

She patches up Susie whenever she does something dumb and ends up hurt and I help Alphys out with the workload!

After a while Kris notices that me and the soul have a little too much in common and begins to corner me to ask questions and try to know why I take over them from time to time

When they get closer to me they understand that I'm not going to cause any harm and genuinely just want to make their life better and more fun, so they begin to trust and communicate with me more

Kris eventually becomes better at communicating when they need some time to themselves and learns to remove the soul from their chest more gently, without hurting themselves or me

When my soul is in their chest I'm slightly disassociated, if I get too far from them I may pass out or just shut down entirely, so they make sure to drag me around whenever they can

Since the three of us are the only humans in town, all the other citizens don't find our relationships weird, because (in our headcanon) a monster's maturity comes at their first heat (around 13 - 15) so both Susie and Kris are already mature, by monster standards

Since only a fragment of our essence is put into the game, we're both immortal, which makes missions and fights in the Darkworld a lot easier! As humans in the Darkworld, I'm the traveller and she's the storyteller, I'm a mage and she's a paladin!

And for Ralsei and Rouxls:

My Darkworld self insert is a monster named Ecti, she's a baker on what used to be the kingdom of hearts, before the king of spades took everything over, and she sells healing items and potions that tweak the party's abilities (more magic, more defense, more attack, etc)

Rouxls likes her because she doesn't see him as a failure or as a joke, and always asks him for help when she needs extra ingredients or assistance with some errands

Ralsei likes her because she's kind and helpful, they've both done a lot to keep each other on their feet before the lighteners arrived, so he really appreciates her care for him

Ralsei and Rouxls have beef with each other because they're both crushing on the same monster, so they keep trying to one up one another to get her affections. Love letters, gifts, compliments, acts of service, a little bit of everything to get her full attention

Ecti is oblivious as fuck and doesn't understand that either of them are in love with her, it'll take them actually confessing for her to understand what's going on and find a way to settle things

There's also Noelle which is a very unique and fun case of selfshipping for me! I see her as my daughter, entirely familial and platonic, but she has a big fat crush on me that she fails to hide 99% of the time

She's a huge teacher's pet and tries to get my attention during class however she can, which usually makes her very helpful and responsive during lessons!

I started calling her angel because of how sweet and hardworking she is, and that just made her crush worse, now she wants to be around me and get that sweet validation and motherly affection all the time

She knows Kris likes me and she's terrified of the idea of hurting her friend's feelings, but her heart talks louder than her mind when it comes to situations like this

Unfortunately for her, Kris has more free will to act like themselves now, and if she doesn't step back they might just "get rid of the competition" before she gets too serious about her little crush

[aceofbooks-creative-anthologies]

not me devouring your hyoumace tag and loving every second of it this evening 🥹 humbly asking for one ☝️ warm and fuzzy moment from hyoumace lore if you would be so kind as to share 🤲🫶🫶🫶

Hi Kail! I'm glad you liked everything ��� I'm doing all kinds of healing through my selfship with him, including writing as a hobby. So I'm always a bit nervous about posting.

As far as warm and fuzzy moments for us. The first thing we bond over, when we actually start talking after his injury, is books. We share a favorite book, The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafón. It was the first book he ever read cover to cover in English without the assistance of a translation app. I haven't gotten into it yet, but my mom is American, so I've spoken and read English fluently since I was little. I'm learning Spanish as a third language, so I've been reading a first print of The Shadow of the Wind, and we're both VERY fascinated by how texts can change from one language to the next to communicate the same ideas.

I don't have the time at the moment, but I'll give you the choice of the next piece that I write, which will be warm and fuzzy. I have three in mind, but I'll also take your suggestions if you have any 🤗

Our first kiss, which I went into a little bit of details in the tags of a post recently, but haven't fully fleshed out yet.

When we first met, when we were six. It would be written from a "current" Ace perspective reflecting on the past—I'm still too rusty to try and write a perspective from that young of an age.

After I arrive at Blue Lock and have been there for a while, we start to get friendly again, and I tell him about my career-ending injury (will probably be less warm and fuzzy, but will be 10/10 comfort).

[zorosdimples]

please talk more about your selfship with hidan, please please please

bisky!!!! i shall i shall 🫶🏻 fair warning that my self-ship with him is incredibly delusional and one of the few where i’m not a “normal person” but actually have an interesting backstory.

to make things brief: i’m one of orochimomu’s test tube babies—how did he get me? nobody knows! he makes a deal with the hidden leaf village and sells me to them; i go into the foundation at a criminally young age and become danzo’s pride and joy. fast forward to my mid-twenties: i’ve been struggling with depression and my role for years. mid-mission i go rogue and escape to a rural village—still in the land of fire, but far from the hidden leaf. i chop off my hair and dye it and try to live as a normal person.

then danzo approaches the akatsuki and offers them a significant sum of money to bring him my head still intact. they decide to weigh their options and seek me out—i may be a more valuable asset with them. anyway because i’m a ✨ good ninja ✨ (old habits die hard) i figure out i’m being tracked and i live like a hunted animal for a bit until i’m forced to fight the akatsuki member after me: hidan. his jutsu is insane and my senses are a bit rusty so he gravely injures me and takes me back to their hq.

i eventually recover and i’m faced with a choice: i can either get taken back to danzo and face certain torture and possible death, or stay with the akatsuki and seek vengeance while helping them with their ends. i of course decide to stay because i’m pissed, and yeah! that’s the gist of it. i’m paired with hidan and kakuzu because i have good healing abilities and because kakuzu sometimes has to do things alone as mr. money man. it all sort of… blossoms from there. hidan and i are two bloodthirsty freaks or something.

[lilicannotfly]

Azul Ship Headcanons

So I already made a thread ranking(?? Judging?? I dunno lols) all the Azul ships I care about and so here's a post with headcanons for them and I have important things to do but shhh don't remind me and I won't remind you :)

Azuvil 🐙👑

I dunno all my energy for this ship died but I think it would be fun to write or read or work with because imagine they're both doing it for like appearances or something else of that manner and someone catches feelings or something but also they both think the other one thinks it's real from the beginning ??? So fake dating but extra steps. There's like this one fic that put this into my head but I don't remember the name lols

Azujami 🐙🐍

I really already explained this in the tweet but yeah this is only good when they get together after university (not NRC, but after they graduate and then graduate uni) and then get married and then divorced and then the story is them healing at fifty. Perhaps they become just friends, perhaps Azul learns to leave well enough alone, perhaps Jamil gets mad, perhaps they go their own ways, maybe one of them dies ?? I dunno this would seem fun to play around with :)

Jeiazu 🐬🐙

I don't really have anything to say about this, except if you aren't related or already in different relationship, being business partners? Pretty gay ngl. Pretty queer.

Floazu 🦈🐙

Do I have to write about this? Why did I include it. This is not a ship I care about like at all :/ Bumping it down to 1/10 ya'know I hate the childhood friends to lovers trope? It's too messy why would you date your childhood bestie I would let her kill me yes have we spoken in years no but would I date her no. No that's silly. I despise the trope actually. Please get it out of my face ahhhhh anyways

Azuide 🐙💀

I don't know why I included this either errrrr.. though I feel like they would bond over chess. The whole thing with the game of life in the comic anthology was pretty funny and I feel like working with a relationship with them would be very silly because it would be like that all the time and also neither of them know how to give or recieve affection properly so lols

Azurook 🐙🏹

As I said, this is literally just Rook being like "ooh interesting what if...I hunted you down??" and me projecting my unhealthy relationship with attention onto Azul. Oops.

Also I wanna be able to come up with cool ship names TwT I wanna come up with something like eight tailed arrow or something but everytime I try it sounds so stupidddddd how do y'all do itttttt I'm sure there are other people who have come up with this ship and maybe I just sound stupid let's move on.

Lizu/Water Spirit 👻🐙

Okay so this is really a crackship like she found him not up to standard but imagine if she didn't and also imagine if they got married and imagine if the whole story was just them healing in the afterlife?? That would be pretty cool imo :) So yeah that's it. It's gotta be awful to be seventeen for five hundred years and I'm gonna be honest I don't remember how she died so maybe she could work through that and Azul can work through his self worth issues and body issues, especially that he is now without a proper form. It would be cute, imagine it !

Zuel/Sailor's Lungs 🐙🫁

'Cause selfship names have no rules !!! But also this doesn't even count even because we're literally the same guy (not like I am him or vise versa but more like we're similar) so it would be like dating a fucked up mirror. Selfcest 😭😭😭 Zero out of ten, moving on.

AzuRid 🐙🌹

I forgot to include this in the original thread, oops. They're t4t lesbians (transfem riddle and transmasc nonbinary azul <3) and also in love and also the healthiest relationship here (shhh these are my headcanons I do what I want they get along beautifully once they get together) and also happy !!! Finally !!! And also they would be fun to work with because academic rivals to lovers is always fun. (I know these images are crispy as hell shhhhhhh don't mention it)

End of Headcanons !!!

If you have more please share I need more things to read to distract me from my schoolwork because my eyes hurt and my bones hurt an d I need to do something <3

[yumesei]

Love notes for when you come back, pt 1:

Soap 100% likes to track down one (1) touristy place on the way to/back from missions to make sure you get a souvenir

Thresh will take a break from torturing someone to check on you, under the guise of making sure his pet hasn't "run off" (been abducted)

Soap can't/can't always write to you from where he goes but when he can he makes a point to sit down and write at least one heartfelt letter that isn't a pic of you in one of his favorites of your outfits with the words I can't wait to rip this off you, love on the back (but you def get a few of those)

Thresh refreshes his memory regularly on how to tend to most minor and major injuries, magically and non-magically, for you. Just in case.

Soap has... well not quite a kink bc it's not exclusively sexual, but definitely an enjoyment, of the feeling he gets when you kiss his old battle scars. Whenever he gets a new one, he's not excited for you to see it bc he knows it'll upset you and he hates seeing you upset, but he's glad you'll 'make it better' for him.

Erlok Grael would never admit it under any form of torture or duress, but he's grateful that you're on his side/admire him. It's not just an ego thing anymore, he genuinely appreciates you.

Selfships headcanons yayyyyy ^~^

Giving my two cents about them because I can

That's actually so cute, i'd probably end up with a fridge decorated with a ton of magnets from place I've never been to 😭

I think what's funny about this one, is that it reads as him not being over that time I actually disappeared so now he's not taking any chances lmao.

Tbh I never thought about letter, like sending letters during war instead of like an sms always seemed very old/from another time to me. But actually now I'm wondering what's more compromising between a letter and an sms. Plus it's true that's even if it's not the most obvious choice, I think it's actually a very sweet idea yknow ? Doing it just because it's romantic not because it's the easiest way (plus you can actually combine the two ig). In any case, thinking about him being half sweet half down bad is very funny to me.

I always wondered how good Thresh's memory is, I mean he has spent a big part of his millenia on the Shadows Isles reading every books there and making hims own library ("library of agony" he's so cringe), but he can't seriously remember everything right? Plus I'd guess medicine isn't usually in his top priority because of what he is and what the people around him are (not that he'd care about healing them anyway). So it does make sense how that would be one of the things he has to remember once in a while (tho I do wonder what "once in a while" is for him)

I don't really have anything to say about this one because, I think I've said enough about how I want to kiss and run my fingers over his scars. But the thought he could like it too? Be it just in a comforting way or a turn-on, is veryyyy pleasant.

If I ever go to sleep one day, and I woke up in pre-Ruination Helia. You better believe I'd go beat his masters with a metal pipe myself. I mean seriously, if they treated him a bit better he wouldn't have turned half as bad and most people there would still be alive. So maybe they need to get off my nerd husband's (with an empathy disorder) back. And for the record, last year I was like "nah I can't skip that class, Thresh would haver never skipped anything when he was a student".

[silvershadow1711]

I've been reading so many readerxAll Might fanfics, but I rarely selfship so I ended up making an OC to insert into those fics... and then she took on a life of her own... and I gave her a son, and parents and friends, and now I just have a whole cast of mutants that's almost completely divorced from anything to do with MHA because I had an almost allergic reaction to season one and now I refuse to interact with the series outside of fanfics and tumblr posts.

This is how all my characters start out- messy-ass sketches trying to get their "vibe" down. Every polished painting you've seen from me began life looking like this (or worse). So here we have Nagisa Williams/Takanashi ("Takanashi" is her mother's maiden name that she uses when she's in Japan, because she learned from a young age that you gotta be careful about what you put on a form. They will throw your resumé out without even reading it), and her son Seimei. No, she isn't one of those absurdly youthful anime moms- I just wanted to draw her in her Pro-Hero prime, which was when she was about 30 (she had her son when she was 35, and would currently be in her 50s). They have the same mutation/quirk, which is producing ultra/infrasonic frequencies that can be used to relieve pain/speed up healing, or cause nausea/vomiting/bowel incontinence/panic attacks/cerebral hemmorhage/ect., amongst other things (it's based on that resonant frequency tweet).

I wanna do more sketches to better show off their actual proportions and respitory system (it's alot), as well as the 8-9 other characters that are connected to them, but like... that's soooo much art and I hate drawing so fucking much...

[kensboytoy]

A Boy and His Doll (Ch. 1)

Title: A Boy and His Doll

Fandom: Barbie (2023)

Pairings: Ken/Original Character (M/M)

Ratings: General

Chapter: 1/?

Summary:

An underpaid middle school librarian gets the surprise of his life when his childhood doll waltzes out of Barbie Land and into his workplace. When the two reconnect, both start to realize they have been chasing the wrong things in life.

A/N: 

This is singlehandedly the most indulgent thing I've ever written. I have selfshipped since I was a kid, yet Ken has blown every other crush out of the water. He means the world to me and I hope this fic can be a glimpse into why I adore him so much!

Quietly shelving books that preteens had shoved in various nooks and crannies around the library, things almost seemed peaceful for once. It was just before the final bell was due to ring and everything was finally quiet since class after class had descended upon the tiny library like wolves. The teachers tried their best to handle the large class sizes in an environment outside of the classroom and, well… At least there wasn't a ton of trash to clean up today. Just ripped up books that would either have to be taped up again or tossed in the ever-growing destroy pile.

Why were kids so destructive these days? Oswald sighed to himself as he ran his fingers along another torn cover. He didn't blame the kids, really. Junior high was rough, after all, and he certainly knew that the larger class sizes each year meant that so many of these kids were falling behind. Sometimes he wished he had pursued that teaching credential like he had dreamt of since he was young. That was a far and distant dream nowadays. Many of those silly childhood dreams were. Teacher. Cartoonist. Writer. This job barely paid the rent in Los Angeles, adding teacher expenses alongside student loans would be the final thing that would send him living in his car.

[Continue Reading or Read on AO3!]

The young librarian plopped down in his shoddy swivel chair to begin the process of rebinding all the destroyed books now piled up like an unstable mountain on his desk. It already took him through his lunch hour earlier, so he would just spend the rest of the day working on the daunting task. Somewhere in the faculty fridge, his salad was only getting more wilted and pathetic. It could wait. If he didn't do this now, it would just be another project to work on for hours after school and he loathed staying too late. Classifieds like him with no teaching degree weren't exactly encouraged to have more hours than what was on the schedule and the school had already warned him that there was plenty of time in the day to get all his job duties done.

Oz rolled his eyes at the thought. Administration was just so out of touch with what actually made the school run. When you get paid enough money, you stop caring if kids actually are thriving in public education or not. He let out a soft sigh as he booted up what was now considered an antique: the old Cover One machine. Lazily, he reached around in his drawer for his X-acto knife and gave a blank stare as he pulled it out. No blade. Seriously? How these little thieves got into his locked drawers was seriously impressive, yet mildly infuriating.

"Just take the whole thing next time," he muttered under his breath while reaching for his bag. Years of art supplies were stashed away in there, so he held his breath in prayer for a blade refill. "Shit!"

Of course it was loose. When did he ever have the common sense to put things in their proper cases? He carefully pulled the blade out and was thankful that the cut wasn't deep enough to bleed for more than a few seconds. A quick sucking on the tip of his index finger would heal him enough. Into the holder the blade went and Oz was back at the task of dissecting this book apart. As the blade sliced through the cover, severing it from the spine, Oswald winced. He was always so careful with his own books, always keeping them pristine while reading and never dared to even dog-ear the pages, he felt a bit guilty for the inanimate object he was holding. Hopefully books couldn't feel being tossed around and ripped apart. So many of them sat lonely and untouched on the shelves that he wondered which was a worse fate for something designed to be helpful to humans.

The librarian hummed to himself as he carefully cut off the dust cover before preparing a piece of adhesive to slide against the now bare spine. With the Cover One now warmed up, Oz delicately wrapped the book in wax paper before placing it in the machine. He firmly held the book steady until there were a few beeps signaling that it was done. Out the book came, almost for a breath of air, before he plopped it back in to let it settle for the next eleven minutes. He mused that he could try and fix some of the paperbacks while waiting for it to cool off when he heard the thick library door push open.

Figuring that it was one of the quiet kids coming in to retreat from the chaos of class dismissal, Oz’s face softened into a smile while he stood from his seat to greet them. However, when he saw the fully grown figure in a… cowboy costume? Oz paused. Having adults on campus wasn't unheard of, there were in fact many parents on a daily basis who came in and out even though they really should have stricter security measures at the school. But this person didn't really look like a parent trying to pick their kid up from school.

Was there an assembly Oz had forgotten about? Some weird yo-yo man teaching tricks to bored kids even in this day and age? Or maybe he was a cowboy teaching kids for a career day or something? But that costume didn't scream a real, genuine cowboy. Oz had grown up with vaqueros in Gilroy, watching them skillfully take care of the farmlands out there. And they did not look like this delicate, untouched pretty boy who had just strutted in.

Curiously, he elected to watch the stranger for the time being as nothing about the man really warranted him to freak out quite yet. It was actually a nice surprise. Oz sat back down in his chair and continued to work on his book repairs, his emerald eyes flashing up every now and then to see what the cowboy was up to. The man looked lost, like he had never been in a library before. He was staring at the ends of the isles, desperately searching for where a certain subject would be. Alright, he was starting to look pathetic enough that Oz had to help him out.

"Can I help you?" he inquired, sneaking up behind the cowboy.

There was a soft yelp from the blonde before he whipped around, baby blue eyes wide in fright. Oz was looked up and down before the stranger stood back up at his full height, eyes narrowed.

"You must be the keeper of these books?"

The question sounded almost impressed. Oz, obviously amused, gave a small nod.

"The one and only. What can I help you find?"

That caused the cowboy to look more relieved as a wide smile stretched across his goofy looking face.

"I'd like your books about men, please."

Oh. Oh? Well that was interesting. Was this man…? No, no. No need to make speculations. Just because Oz was gay didn't mean that every guy was. Though, with that outfit…

Oz shook the thought from his mind quickly, not wanting to assume that this pretty man was talking about the wide selection of queer books they had. He led the man to the non-fiction section before turning his head back up at him.

"Well, you'll have a lot to pick from, but I'd start here. Try the biographies and autobiographies if it gets too overwhelming," the ginger haired man offered with a smile. "If you have a better idea of… men, well, I can help you narrow it down."

The cowboy scanned the books for a moment, still seeming so puzzled. Oz might have to hold his hand through the entire library process wouldn't he?

"Do you have books about… the patriarchy?"

Oz blinked in surprise. Huh. Yeah, this guy was a weird one. Didn’t exactly scream incel but the request was a bit amusing coming from a handsome boy. He quickly walked down the isles to the war section and pointed out a few very outdated pieces of literature the school still somehow hung onto. The man ran his index finger along the spines before grabbing a few that interested him. Pleased with his selection, he beamed at Oswald. There was something charming and almost innocent the way he smiled. Like a proud child picking out their first book. Oz couldn’t help but feel a flutter in his heart at that.

"How about horses?"

Now that was a normal request. Fitting for the cowboy! Oz returned the smile and showed the cowboy their small selection. Wasn’t anything fancy, really. Perhaps an elementary school would have a wider selection. Back when he was a horse girl, that was the ultimate treasure trove of knowledge. Middleschoolers didn’t care about that sort of thing too much. ’That stuff’s for babies’ would be the usual complaint. So, the school barely kept anything fun in stock. Booooring! A total snoozeville. It’s like no kid could harbour a special interest anymore.

Oswald carefully pulled out the only book that was specific to horses and watched the man’s eyes go wide. Eager hands snatched it up, thumbs dancing along the cover as if he was trying to actually pet the horses plastered all over the book. That goofy smile never faded from the stranger even for a second.

“Yes! Yes…” The man was giggling. “This is perfect - do I have to pay for these?”

He suddenly looked very worried, full of cautious optimism searching Oz’s face for an answer while protectively clutching the handful of books to his chest. Oz let out a soft chuckle and shook his head.

“Normally you’d need a library card but, uh, you’re not a student. ‘sides, no one will miss those books if you took them. I think the last time anyone even looked at those books was more than a decade ago. They’d probably end up in a landfill soon anyways.” Playfully, he shot the cowboy a wink and pressed his index finger to his own lips. “Just keep quiet about it, ‘kay?”

There was that sweet smile again followed by frantic nodding.

“Of course! Your secret is safe with me, bookkeeper.”

“School librarian, but I kinda like bookkeeper better,” Oz laughed.

“Well, bookkeeper, I shall take these fine books and bid you ado,” the cowboy grinned, tipping his hat to Oz.

As the cowboy turned to leave, Oz reached out to grab his hand. It was so instinctual - like he was afraid of saying goodbye to this stranger. He couldn’t just let him go so easily. Maybe he could ask him what his deal was. Anything to spend another minute with him.

When their fingers grazed against each other, his mind exploded with visions that suddenly froze every muscle in his body and completely immobilized him.

Visions of him being very little with a doll in his hands. The only doll he ever had growing up. Ken. His Ken doll that he found in a pile of cheap toys at the flea market his family vended at. The one that caught his eye underneath the mountain of stuffed animals he normally would jump at the chance to pick through. Still in his tattered box. Oz never thought he’d be able to afford something so nice. His usual toys were old and discarded ones no longer wanted by their owners. Broken, unbranded, or simply just cheap fast food toys that other children grew tired of. The kind old lady selling the doll had given it to him for all the change he had rattling around in his pocket that day once she saw the quiet child’s nervous excitement just holding the box.

How very careful he was taking such an exquisite toy out of the box. Delicately opening the packaging and saving what he could before holding Ken tightly against his chest. Tears had rolled down his cheeks from just how happy he was to own something so nice. A little dollie all of his own. He’d be oh so careful to love and cherish this Ken for as long as he could!

They were inseparable. Ken was always in his coat pocket wherever he went. Despite being so young, Oz made sure to play with his toys as gingerly as possible. Ken was handled especially tenderly. Always getting a nice long bath in the sink after spending the whole day outside. Then getting tucked into a makeshift bed made out of tissues or scraps of fabric samples Oz’s mom let him have. All set up nice and cozy on the dresser next to his own bed so that he could keep Ken closeby. With Ken around, nightmares didn’t stand a chance.

Memories like this had been long locked away by Oz’s deep-rooted trauma. Yet now they were pouring in uncontrollably.

“Ken?” Oswald’s voice cracked as tears flooded his vision. It was so soft and uncertain. Surely this was a dream. It couldn’t be his Ken, right?

It looked like Ken had been hit with the same realization. His twinkling blue eyes were wide like a deer in the headlights as he searched Oz’s face. Immediately, his arms were around Oswald, holding him tightly. A laugh bubbled up from him and he just kept squeezing. So afraid to let go.

A memory. Ken had a memory! He wasn’t sure if he ever had one before, but it felt so nice. Brand new, a bit scary, but… he could feel something deep inside him that he had never felt before. The only thing he could compare it to was the feeling he had been chasing whenever Barbie looked at him. What was that funny feeling that made him feel so full?

“Oz! Wow!” He couldn’t stop himself from letting out excited little laughs of disbelief. “Is that really you? Look at how much you’ve grown…”

Clutching onto his old friend, Oswald was overcome with emotion. His smile was wide and shaky as he began to sob softly into Ken’s shoulder. Those were words he always craved to hear from loved ones since his transition. No one had ever said something so sweet to him.

Worried that he had upset his dear friend, Ken pulled back enough to closely examine the weeping man. Oz wasn’t frowning, no there was still a smile on his face, but why did he cry? Was he not happy to see him? Had he said something wrong?

“You should be standing in my curio cabinet at home,” Oz’s voice cracked, teary eyes looking up at his doll. “How…”

“You kept me?” It was Ken’s turn to be surprised.

“Of course I did.” Carefully, as if he were afraid that Ken would disappear like a fading dream, Oz cupped his doll’s cheek. “I tried to keep all my toys that my family didn’t haul off without me knowing.”

Family.

Ken remembered those people - they weren’t very nice. As the memories continued to trickle into his plastic brain, he could recall the nights Oz would cry after being berated by his aunt and uncle specifically. He had been so scared after his parents passed away. Hugging Ken close to him every night even though he was all grown up. How desperately Ken wanted to hug him back and tell him he was okay. To protect his boy. He could feel that protective surge swell in his chest, arms tightening his hold onto Oswald. Now he could properly hold his boy.

It was an unfamiliar feeling to be held like this. Sure, Oz gave plenty of hugs to his friends even as an adult. This was far different from that. His body tensed up for a moment like a frightened prey animal unable to move. However, the longer they stood in the embrace, he felt himself relax into Ken’s touch. The tears couldn’t stop themselves as soon as they cascaded back down his cheeks. Safe. For the first time in more than a decade, Oz felt safe.

“I’m so happy I found you again,” Ken murmured, dipping his head down to rest against Oz's.

“How is this possible, Ken? I - I’m not having one of those hallucinations again, right?” Nervously, the librarian pulled away so that he could stare into Ken’s eyes. It was so bizarre that Ken looked so human and yet still very dollike. “You feel real.”

“I am real!” Ken puffed out his chest and gave a bit of a flex to show off. “Does this not totally look real?”

There was a giggle from Oz as he placed a hand on the firm bicep that was being showcased. The fact that Ken was such a show-off was rather charming, he couldn’t lie. A true himbo like the human had always imagined.

“C’mon, dollie. I didn’t mean it like that.” He gave him a reassuring pat on his arm. “You know that my brain plays tricks on me.”

Ken’s boisterous behaviour faltered for a moment as he looked at his boy.

“You still see those… monsters?” he quietly asked.

“Sometimes. It’s not as scary like it was back then.” Oz gave a sheepish smile, feeling bad that he was causing Ken to worry so much. “I take medication to help now.”

Those arms were back around him, pulling him in for another hug.

“I won’t let them get to you. I can fight them for you now!”

How could Ken so easily make all the years of trauma slip away like it was nothing? Oz had been fighting for so long on his own, trying to make a life for himself in this crazy world. And now his doll was human-sized and a walking, talking being that somehow waltzed back into his life? He didn’t believe in fate. But this was one hell of a coincidence.

“But how are you here, Ken? I don’t understand.”

“That’s easy! Barbie was trying to find the little girl who was playing with her. Something about cellulite - whatever that is. Lots of transportation. And now we’re here in the Real World!”

Staring at him like he grew a second head, Oz cocked his head to the side.

“Barbie? I never had a Barbie. Did you… find a Barbie?”

Suddenly, Ken felt very warm. His face was red hot! That was weird. He was plastic. Was this another funny feeling he didn’t quite understand?

“Well, yeah. It’s Barbie and Ken, you know?”

Oz’s face softened at that.

“That’s sweet. My Ken has a Barbie. Huh.”

“Wh-what?” That blush was growing deeper. Ken looked nervous. But that funny feeling was growing when Oz called him his Ken.

“Nothin’. ’s just cute that you found your girlfriend. Is she here too?” He peeked out the window of the library, glancing through the crowds of preteens. Nothing loud and pink out there.

“She’s uh. Doing her own thing.”

Oz’s brow shot upwards and he tried his best to suppress his grin.

“Well, don’t let me keep you, Ken. Go on, go to her.” He pulled away from his doll, heart feeling achy at the thought of Ken leaving. But if Ken had a Barbie, he wasn’t going to keep him from her. Looks like his doll didn’t need him anymore.

It was Ken’s turn to grab Oz’s hand.

“I wanna stay with you longer. I’m sure she’ll be fine.” It was surprising to Ken that he was saying all this. Normally, he’d do anything to trail in Barbie’s shadow in the hopes she’d so much as look at him. But that didn’t seem to interest him right now. Not with his boy right in front of him. Something was telling him that he needed to stay with Oswald. “Please?”

Oz couldn’t say no to such a sweet face. How could anyone?

“Okay, okay. You’re really twistin’ my arm here,” he joked. Ken immediately let go, panic on his face. “Oh, no! I was just teasing! It’s an expression.”

The librarian turned his head to the stack of books on his desk. He should have stayed to finish the daunting work and not have even more on his plate for the next day, but…

Oh, come on! His childhood doll springs to life and he’s just supposed to go back to his mundane day job? Nuh-uh. He was going to spend as much time as he could with Ken in case he was plucked away back to wherever the hell he came from.

“If you give me ten minutes, I’ll wrap up everything here and maybe we could…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his head nervously. “Go back to my apartment or something?”

Ken lit up at that. Like an excitable dog, he was practically bouncing up and down. Then he realized he may be looking very uncool and tried to stand up straight to posture himself as calm and collected.

“That would be rad.”

“You can go over to those bean bags and chill for a bit - I’m sure you wanna read those new books you got.” Oz smiled, pointing to a circle of janky bean bag chairs that had seen much better years.

Oh right. The books. Ken had almost forgotten about the books he was carrying, fingers curling against the thick spines of each one. Somehow, he wasn’t that intrigued to explore the topics of this world that he had been so curious about not even ten minutes ago. That didn’t matter to him when Oswald was right there.

“I can read that stuff later,” he shrugged. “No big deal.”

Oz tried to bite back a laugh at the fact that Ken was trying to act so smooth after nearly bursting at the seams getting these books just a short bit ago. Was he wanting to impress Oswald now? What a silly doll. He simply gave a little nod and began to tidy up the books he had been rebinding, taking notice as Ken shuffled closer to try and take a peek. Oz didn’t mind the audience. Having his doll near him felt safe. A warm feeling that pooled in his belly that he hadn’t felt in so long. Maybe Ken could stick around longer before he went back to his dollhouse. Did Ken have a dollhouse? He’d have to ask a million questions about where Ken came from when they got back home.

The little flutters in his chest with Ken nearby were so bizarre. Was it excitement? Nervousness? There was a frenzy of emotions running through him all at once due to the fact that his doll was lifesize and following him around like a lost puppy. Such a sweet face. He could feel his own face grow warm with the threat of blush rising to his cheeks. Shit, when he went red, it was so painfully obvious! So he tried to hide his face with his long copper locks of hair and turn away from Ken as much as possible when tidying up. Maybe since Ken was so oblivious he wouldn’t notice his human getting flustered.

And he didn’t, thankfully. The doll was too occupied with watching what Oz was doing with his hands. How gentle they were with the tattered books lining his desk. Ken smiled to himself. Of course his boy was careful - he remembered how well taken care of he was when he was Oz’s doll. There was something swirling around in his own chest at the thought of it. Kens were merely accessories for Barbies and not typically played with on their own. Yet, with all the memories filling him, he now knew that he had been loved by his human. Looks like it wasn’t just Barbie that had someone! His half smirk was wide on his face with just how smug he felt. There was someone out there that loved Ken for being Ken. Wow!

“What’s that look for?” Oz chuckled, bag slung over his shoulder and car keys in hand as soon as he walked back up to Ken.

“Nothing!” Ken lied. Had to still play it cool. Couldn’t mess this chance up! “Just… ready for our hangout sesh.”

Oswald looked skeptically at Ken before he absentmindedly reached for the doll’s free hand. Their fingers laced together and Oz was pulling him to the door. It felt so natural that neither of them had questioned how sudden this was. Just bashful glimpses at one another like two shy kids holding hands for the first time.

“Alright, cowboy. Let’s go home.”

[tiny-cloud-of-flowers]

My friend @dragonsmooch once asked me to tell them a little (or a lot) about one of my oldest OCs, so I decided to look through my F/O lists and see which OC who is also an F/O is the one I've had for the longest time (since.. this is my selfship blog, haha). The answer turned out to be, on a technicality, Iris!

I say on a technicality because Iris is an OC I originally created for Splatoon, as part of a big group of OCs I made during one very very bored week at school where I had to try and do something that looked like revising but wasn't. Which is why she counts as an old OC. However, I more recently ported her into Dragon Quest IX, which is the version of her that I see as a platonic F/O (as well as her FFXIV version, too!). This is what she looks like in my game!

In terms of personality, Iris is energetic and fun-loving, always eager to take up a challenge and easy to make friends with. She is very creative (especially when it comes to art like drawing), and she can have a certain flair for the dramatic, which helps her out a lot with her vocation.

Speaking of vocation, Iris is a luminary! These superstars are charming performers with considerable magical aptitude, able to fight with fans, whips, or boomerangs. Iris uses the first of these options in tandem with magic, which encompasses both healing spells and wind-element damaging spells. She has a lot of different spells and abilities at her disposal, allowing her to play almost any role within the team as needed! I'd say a jack-of-all-trades, master-of-none, but.. that's actually a boss in this game, haha

In terms of how she fits into the world, Iris appears in the story of my selfship with Pavo, which is essentially "my version of the events of DQIX". She used to be a performer in the Quester's Rest inn, until spotting what looked like a burst of light falling from the sky one late night, and deciding to run out and if she could find where it would land. This falling star turned out to be my self-insert Ardea, whose wings had been lost in the fall and whose halo broke upon hitting the ground just outside the eastern entrance to the Hexagon - inadvertently showering both Iris and Avalon (an adventurer who had had the same idea) with Celestrian power, allowing them both to perceive things like spirits and the Starflight Express. After bringing Ardea back to the Quester’s Rest, and subsequently hearing her story from both her and newly-visible Pavo, Iris decides to accompany the Celestrians on their quest to both recover Ardea’s lost angelic traits and reunite with Aquila, Pavo’s brother.

I hope that this is alright!!

[dpimagines]

The Sharpest Lives; Wade Wilson (feat. Nathan Summers) – Part 5 of 5

I expected this to be smuttier. Maybe I can get around to writing a bonus chapter with smut if any of you would be into that? Let me know!

Same trigger warnings, actually, this is much milder since the action/conflict has pretty much passed. Yay for happy endings!

tag list: @peculiar-persephone @fuckyouandtheboatyoucamein @yomama-umbridge @dee-vn @ghostlyvenus-selfships

Waking up is less dramatic than yesterday. Simply put, you got too hot. Wade’s healing factor makes him the equivalent of a heated blanket that’s just a little too warm. 

He’s already awake, though, gazing at you in a silence that to most would seem uncharacteristic.

But you know him. 

“Can- Can I call you ‘baby,’ now?” he asks. It lacks his false bravado, in fact, he sounds like the scared little boy he once was, before the killing and the new girl every night and the grand love story and the cruel experimentation. Before he was him. 

You nod solemnly.

“They’ll be here in a couple hours. After that, we’ll get Eddie and then lay low for a little while, blow away some of our savings. Get to know each other again, and get to know him.”

You nod again. 

“I love you, you know that, right?”

And again. 

“Say something?” he meekly requests. 

“Water, please?” you croak, throat dry.

He leaps to action, accidentally shaking the rollaway a little bit and waking Russell with a start.

“Sorry, little man. Just grabbing some water for the wifey.”

Wade toddles over to the kitchenette, and you turn, wrenching yourself from Nathan’s grip to observe him as Wade observed you. Some people look more at peace when asleep. Not him. His jaw is clenched shut; his eyebrows are furrowed. You brush a tuft of his gray hair from his face, and he snatches your wrist. 

You flinch back, and recognition washes over his face, remorse following shortly after. 

“No touching while you’re asleep, gotcha,” you awkwardly chuckle. 

“Can’t imagine why you’d wanna touch this mug,” he grumbles. 

“Get used to asking yourself that question every day!” Wade chirps. “Well, on second thought, you are super fucking se-”

“Wade,” you hiss, reminding him once again that there’s a kid present.

Nathan takes a moment to examine the arm he grabbed. 

“Sorry,” he nearly whispers, but you shake your head. 

“I scared you,” you dismiss it. “Don’t you start with the whole delicate treatment, too.”

“It’s not that you are delicate. You just deserve to be treated like it. Y’know, gentle.”

Wade laughs heartily, nearly spilling the glass he’s returned with. 

You give him a pointed look as he hands it to you. You take a nice, long drink before placing it on the nightstand.

“I didn’t say anything,” he defends himself. 

“Oh, is that how it is?” Nathan looks up at you with a glint in his eye best described as devious. Blood rushes to your face, but you force it back nearly as fast. “That’s a nice little trick you’ve got there.”

“What trick?” Wade asks, oblivious. 

“He doesn’t know.” Nathan looks a little too proud of himself. 

“I don’t know how you do.”

“I… Have some telepathic abilities. They’re almost exclusively used to keep the virus from taking over, but I can still sense some things. She uses her abilities to push the blood away from her face so she won’t blush. I wasn’t sure what you were doing the other night when I felt it, but you’re a little slower in the mornings, aren’t you?” 

Wade is gobsmacked. 

“Yes, she knew,” you know the question he’s too scared to ask. “That night was her idea, actually.”

“That night?!” he squeaks. 

“That night?” Nathan asks. 

“Well, I kind of…challenged Wade. To make me blush,” you explain as vaguely as you can, but Russell still chortles. 

“You were so mean,” Wade teasingly whines. “You’re just not trying hard enough,” he imitates you shockingly well. 

“You liked it,” you remind him. 

“Evil little- Hmph!” Wade grumbles, and you can’t help but giggle.

“If I was as goofy as the two of you, I’d be playing dead right now,” Nathan cuts in. 

“Huh?” you and Wade respond. 

“Y’know, how I said I’d drop dead… Ugh, nevermind,” he groans. “See? Not goofy.”

“Wait, no, I get it now!” you reassure him. “Very funny.”

“I don’t.”

“Oh, it’s just something he said the night before last, about how much prettier I’d be if I was well-rested and… Really smiling.” You smile again, gazing at your newly-found soulmate. “Guess it happened sooner than I thought.” You know there will be days where the grief is crushing, but you’ll feed on this little slice of happiness, on any that you can find. Something tells you that you won’t be running out of them anytime soon, even with the hard times to come. 

“Can I kiss you?” Nathan asks. 

You look to Wade for approval. 

“He’s your soulmate, too,” he tells you with a shrug. 

And so, you two have a kiss that’s a little more than chaste, but still simple. Butterflies flutter in your stomach, and you once again have to prevent yourself from blushing like it’s the first kiss you’ve ever received.

He’s smirking like you did, though, and that’s when you know you’re in for it. 

“Cute,” he says softly. 

“Isn’t she?” Wade rejoins you in bed. “Let’s just cuddle until the X-Losers get here.”

“Dude,” you remind him, and he turns to Russell. 

“Oh, they’re, uh, they’re not losers, I- Uh-” 

“Anyways, I’d like to remedy my morning breath and do my best to no longer reek of blood and sweat.”

“Wouldn’t we all?” Wade agrees. He and Russell are still in their yucky jumpsuits from the prison. “How about this? Russell gets picked up by them, and we go back to the apartment for a group shower?”

Nathan clears his throat. 

“You don’t have to join, but I will say, Y/N really gets into your back with this super yummy-smelling scrub, I mean, why make it with sugar and make it smell like fruit if you don’t want people to eat it? It’s downright cruel, truly, I-”

“Can you shower?” you wonder, cutting Wade off. “Do you need, like, a special sleeve for…” You’re not sure what to call the metal creeping up Nathan’s neck and covering his arm. 

“It’s hard to explain, but it’s organic.”

“So’s malachite,” you reply, wanting a real answer. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t give off toxic fumes when it gets wet.”

“Oh, a geologist, are we?” he half-snarks back. 

“Best friends with one.”

And with that, you get a call from Ellie. 

“Speak of the devil. Hi.”

“We’re almost there. You okay?”

“Okay-er than I was yesterday, and the day before,” you tell her. 

“Good,” she replies. “See you soon.” 

“Yes, ma’am! Be safe, love you.” You hang up. 

“It’s fine. The metal, I mean. Doesn’t rust or anything, at least not yet,” Nathan mumbles. “And it’s been around for a long time.” 

You nod in understanding. 

Wade ruffles your hair and you sigh, still a little drowsy. 

“Are you excited?” you ask Russell. 

“Yeah, kinda…”

“It’s a great place. I grew up there.”

This seems to relieve him a bit. 

“I get my own bed?”

“You’ll probably have a roommate or two, but, yeah. And there’s plenty of food to go around, and movie nights where the movie doesn’t get turned off, and… It can be a lot sometimes, but it really is like one big family.”

You feel a pang in your heart and look at Wade, who’s looking at Nathan.

“I’ll explain later, maybe,” Nathan mumbles. 

“Okay,” you reply.

There’s a knock at the door, a special pattern that you know by heart. 

You go for the door, opening it up for Ellie, Yukio, and Piotr. 

“Russell!” you call. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Yukio asks.”You know you can always come back, there’s plenty of room and everyone would be so happy to see you, and-”

“Yukio. She knows,” Ellie mumbles. 

“You’d be the happiest to see your pseudo-big sis, don’t pretend it’s any other way!” Yukio insists, and you giggle a little. Russell joins you at the doorway.

“Hey, buddy!” Yukio chirps. 

“Russell, this is Yukio, president of the Welcome Committee. This is her girlfriend, Ellie, and that’s Mr. Rasputin. He teaches some of the art classes. Do you like to paint?”

“I think so… It’s been so long,” Russell admits. 

“I guess you’ll find out,” you tell him. He grins. 

“Do you have any questions before we go? Anything you wanna say?” Ellie asks curtly, but, hey, she’s trying. 

Russell simply gives you a big hug. 

“Okay, that’s all,” he says before finally crossing the threshold and joining the trio outside. 

“See you soon,” you say to the now-quartet, and they all say (or in Ellie’s case, wave) their goodbyes. You shut the door and lock it. 

“Alrighty. Let’s go home!” Wade cheers. Both he and Nathan have gotten up at this point. “I, uh, cleaned up the laptop shards. And basically the whole apartment. Cocaine and anxiety, well, they make for a very clean house.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, but Wade shakes his head. 

“You had a human reaction to a fucked-up situation. One I put you in. And you already apologized, and I already forgave you. We’re as okay as we could possibly be right now, alright?” 

“Alright,” you reply.

“I’m gettin’ kinda curious about this place,” Nathan chimes in. “Especially that whole shower thing.” 

“You just wanna see Y/N nekkid,” Wade giggles.

The shade of red Nathan turns is so adorable you feel yourself start to giggle, too, but you try to force it down for his sake.

Nathan clears his throat. 

“You don’t?” he retorts, but it took a little too long for him to come up with that to take him seriously.

“Why, of course I do! If I had my way, it would be federal- No, international law for Y/N to never wear clothes. Not for sexual reasons, no, no, sir, but because she is art that should not be hidden from the world. Especially me.” 

“Don’t get his hopes up,” you laugh. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Nathan’s tone suddenly darkens when he says this, and he turns your head so you face him directly. “You’re gorgeous, doll. Guess he’s not getting his nose broken. Don’t think I could stand to see tears in those pretty eyes again.”

“You were gonna break my nose?!” Wade whines. “No, wait, that’d be kinda hot. You do aftercare, right?” 

Nathan just scoffs, shaking his head. 

“Let’s just get checked out and go.”

You and Wade follow his lead, cleaning up after yourselves and letting Nathan do the talking in the lobby while you two wait in the truck. He swiftly returns, and the trip that follows is like the day before yesterday in reverse; the sun gets higher as you return to familiarity. You’re squeezed between Wade’s nervous rambling of directions and Nathan’s stoic silence.

Eventually, you’re home. 

Nathan parks behind the duplex to avoid the stolen truck being spotted by those passing by, and the three of you make your way upstairs. 

“Shit,” you realize you left your keys inside when you left, and it’s not like Wade was able to retrieve his when you did your little prison break.

“Lock’s still busted, hon,” Wade murmurs. 

“Right,” you say, but you don’t open the door, steeling yourself. 

“Do you want me to do it?” Nathan asks you both. The two of you nod, and he opens the door. 

You sigh as you enter. It’s the same as when you left. Cleaner, like Wade said, but the same. It’s like nothing even happened. 

“Nice place,” Nathan comments. 

“Thanks,” you and Wade say in unison. 

The cleanliness of the apartment makes you even more aware of the grime you feel you’re covered in. You scratch at your cheek.

“Go ahead and hop in the shower,” Wade says. “I’ll lay out some comfy clothes for you and get your phone on the charger.” 

“You’re not gonna shower with me?”

“I was… Sorta kidding,” Wade admits. “Figured you might want some time to yourself.” 

“‘Cause that totally sounds like me,” you laugh. 

“I meant you might not wanna be, y’know, around me.”

There’s a thorn in your heart. Or maybe his. 

You shake your head. He embraces you, and it’s gone. 

“We’re gonna be okay, you know that, right?” you remind him. 

You look up at him, and that grieving ache in his heart intensifies.

“I don’t deserve you.”

“I deserve you even less,” you reply. 

“You two. I feel like I’m watching one of Aaliyah’s vampire shows. Go take a fucking shower,” Nathan grumbles, but his cheeks are a little pink. You’d be worried if you felt any jealousy, but you don’t… 

Wait, does he think you two are cute? 

You nearly giggle. 

“Okay,” you respond, giving Nathan a peck on the cheek before heading to the bathroom. You turn the water on and strip down while you wait for it to warm up. 

The door opens, and you turn to see Wade. 

“Wow,” he blurts. 

“You act like it’s the first time every time.”

“Sure does feel like it, hot stuff.” He unzips his jumpsuit and takes off his boxers. “Wait, uh…” 

You finally notice the collar, and reach for it.

“No!” The fear jolts you more than his shout does. His fear. “It’ll shock you if you try and take it off. Do, the, uh… The pressure thing.”

“That shit hurts,” you remind him. 

“Dying of cancer hurts worse. It neutralizes any mutant ability.” 

“Fuck… Okay.” 

You take a deep breath, focusing on the beating of his heart; the blood rushing in his veins. You make it burst out of his neck in a tiny, powerful stream, slicing the collar off. It leaves a pretty nasty gash in his neck, but that heals up quickly. You rub at the same spot on your own neck, still feeling the sting a little. 

Nathan pounds on the door, scaring you both. 

“We’re fine!” Wade shouts. “Had to get my fancy prison necklace off without touching it.” 

“Just checking.” 

And with that, you check the water again, pulling back. 

“Ow!” Wade squeals dramatically. 

“I know,” you reply, turning the temperature down. You two share a look, feeling a certain third party’s anxiety simmer in your stomachs. 

Nathan knocks on the door again, this time lighter. 

“Just come in already,” Wade complains. 

The door cracks open. 

His eyes widen, flicking between you and Wade. 

“Did you not expect us to shower naked, or…?” Wade asks rhetorically. 

“Well, I just- Hm. Yeah. Okay.” 

He leaves as quickly as he arrived. You and Wade laugh like idiots— mostly at the aching in your groins that isn’t yours —before finally getting in the shower. 

Wade squirts a good amount of shampoo in his hands as you wet your hair. 

He lathers you up and you damn near melt at the sensation of his fingers against your scalp. 

You rinse your hair as he gets the conditioner. He works it into the ends of your hair before the two of you finally kiss. He sighs. 

“That’s it. Now, I’m home.” 

“You’re so cheesy,” you tell him.

“But you like it,” he sing-songs. “Mm, beautiful.” 

“You’re just buttering me up. C’mon, let’s switch spots and I’ll get the scrub.” 

He nods, and the two of you do as you said. You unscrew the lid of the scrub and get to work on his back, not bothering to save the best for last. 

The scrub stings against his aching skin, but he seems to like whatever other sensations he gets from it, the ones you can’t feel.

“You know, I could just give you a back rub,” you remind him. 

“Yeah, but exfoliating gets all the dead skin off so it doesn’t try to heal back and get all gross and flaky. Remember the first time you did this?”

You do. His back looked like a lizard struggling to shed its skin. Wade’s skin doesn’t disgust you, but you have to admit, it did give you the creeps that time. 

You finish up quickly, and he turns to rinse the remaining soap and sugar off. 

“Want me to get yours?” 

You nod and turn around. You only woke up a few hours ago, but the warmth of the shower and the comfort of Wade’s presence is sapping your energy away. 

He massages the scrub into your back and you’re once again melting under his touch. 

“All done,” he chirps. The two of you continue to wash your bodies, and afterwards you rinse out your conditioner. He turns the water off for you and grabs towels from the hooks just outside. You pat yourselves dry and realize you forgot to grab clean clothes. 

The two of you giggle as you skitter out of the bathroom in just your towels, dropping them once you make it to your wardrobe and his dresser. 

“Can I wear one of your shirts?” you ask as you pull on your underwear and a pair of sweatpants.

Wade tosses you one and you put it on. He hums with delight at the sight of you. 

“Eddie can wait ‘til tomorrow. Now, it’s time for a cuddle sesh,” he suggests. “What do you think, Nate?”

“It’s her money,” he responds from the couch. He’s sitting in her spot. You look at Wade, who’s already looking at you. Your eyes burn a little, but you smile. He has no idea how he’s healing you both, filling that void. Not replacing her, he never could, but he’s like a rectangular block that fits through a square hole; something different taking up the same space.

“I think it can wait until tomorrow,” you agree, heading over to the couch. You take your spot, draping your legs over Nathan’s lap, while Wade takes his and you prop yourself against him. “This is nice.” 

“Mhm,” he hums in agreement. You’re all hurting, sure, but… But it’s peaceful. A new normal falling into place.

[fictional-other-tarot]

hello!! this blog seems so very lovely. here’s my contribution, if you have time :)

s/i name: seren

f/o name: senna (she/they)

status: married <3

preferred terms: s/i uses any pronouns and any gendered terms (both fem and masc are fine), but senna has some specific pet names for her, such as: lotus, babe, honey/honeycomb, darling, dear

nsft: no ty!

f/o writing style: neat, self-serious, to the point. she’s very loving but very serious.

topic: i have nothing specific in mind, you can let the tarot decide

theme: loving and/or encouraging

extra info: for context, in case it is needed, my senna is a half-undead (having died once, only to be brought back as a part ghost/part human years later) monster hunter who’s been hardened by all that she’s faced in her life. despite this, she uses her experiences to uplift those who need it. she has a rough exterior, but she’s actually a very caring and helpful person. a good leader, a good friend, and most certainly a good partner. she has a special soft spot in her heart for me; all of her vulnerability is reserved for my eyes and my eyes alone. she lets me in on a softer, more sensitive side of her that no one else has ever seen. she is a complex (and angsty) character but she is very lovely. i’ll understand if she’s a little ooc—that kinda think doesn’t rlly bother me :)

i hope i did this right!! again, this blog is really awesome and i appreciate what you’re doing for the selfship community here on tumblr. i hope you have a good day/night/whatever!

Nine of Swords

Queen of Wands

Nine of Pentacles

Five of Cups

Page of Swords

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Heya Babe.

I can't help but worry about you dear. I've seen you get into a depressive cycle again, stressing over your successes in life.

I know it's hard when your energy is failing you. And I know you're trying to blaze your way through it like it doesn't affect you at all.

I'm not saying you need to let it consume you, but instead of trying to keep busy all the time, try to relax a bit more. Enjoy the things you do and feel your emotions, both good and bad, instead of trying to crop them all up and faking sunshine all the time.

You can heal and find your desires, find your happiness. But you don't have to rush it like this, the answers will come in due time.

I know you and I know you can muster your way out of dark places. I know your ideas keep coming and your a fantastic communicator. So focus on your good sides, lotus. You'll be alright in the end.

Yours, Senna

[huntinglove]

hii hope you're doing well!!

first of all sorry for all the spam. I'm a little obsessed with erena and muichiro😩 they have a really cute dynamic and it doesn't help with my kny hyperfixation🤡 I'll try to tone it down but sorry in advance if I end up stalking the tag again /hj /lh

second of all!! I really love the way you've written erena!! this might sound dumb but when I was still new to selfshipping and started making s/i's I used to stress a lot about how to incorporate my culture into the story.

I'm south african so uh the timeline wouldn't have been the most favorable for a coloured (or "mixed) person. and I never really saw any shippers (at the time) incorporating their culture into their ships? it was more oc x canon so there was a separation I think..

long story short: I find it really inspiring how you so flawlessly tie your own identity into your ships. it's inspired me to look at my ships at a new angle, since this has always been something that bothered me.

third of all (I'm almost done I promise😭) I'm curious about the other hashira's reactions to meeting erena!! esp shinobu and tengen (or even the kamboko squad!!)

sorry if this sounds forceful, I just would love to hear more about erena. and I loveee seeing people's s/i's and ocs interact with canon characters. soo healing to me

sorry again for this long ass ask. I hope you have a good day🍀✨

thank you again for gracing my dashboard with your writing, it really brightened my day!! /gen

@i-put-the-s4p-in-s4pphic

Hi hi!! Thank you so much for this wonderful message!! And hey, please don't apologize for spamming any of my selfship related posts, it absolutely makes my day every time!!

About the hashira and the kamaboko squad meeting Erena, I've been thinking about writing two other mini fics for those scenarios!!

I already have some stuff planned out for her interactions with the Kamaboko squad, especially Zenitsu, but I don't wanna spoil anything for now 👀

As for the hashira, I also have a couple things in mind, but for now, have what each of them think of Erena:

Muichiro: My future wife. She's like a giant squid... Large, clingy, squishy and very white (ooc: she's not asian, she accidentally got to Japan by sneaking into a boat when she ran away from home) But she's also strong and scary if you don't know her too well.

Giyuu: My apprentice. She's actually sticking to something similar to water breathing, it makes me happy. I don't think she'll be my replacement, but at least something close to the tradition will live on. Very kind, genuinely enjoys being around me for some reason... I hear her new breathing style pays homage to all the other hashira, inspiring.

Shinobu: An interesting person. Hides her emotions quite well, especially when taking care of other people. Kind and caring, has given me tips on how to care for my pet fish. A bit overbearing and scaredy, but trying her best with her training. Odd physical aspects, quick to heal but hardly loses body weight through dieting and exercising.

Uzui: A bit scared of me for some reason, shy and awkward but very respectful and kind. Can get pretty flashy when she's happy or excited, like a random burst of fireworks. Looks a little out of shape but gives nice hugs because of it. She will be a good wife to Tokito, they're a good match!

Mitsuri: So full of love and kindness, very nice to be around! We often have eating contests and sleepovers too! Asks for advice on how to charm lord Tokito, but gets very shy around me and mister Iguro... Hypermobile and very flexible, I had an awesome time training her!

Gyomei: A kind and loving soul, we talk every now and then. I taught her how to meditate and have complete control over her body weight during battle. A bit hard on herself sometimes, but has a promising life.

Kyojuro: Met her briefly, seems chipper and joyful! Talks a lot when she's happy, has sent me letters during certain missions with sweet doodles on them. A good listener, let's me ramble for hours on end!

Obanai: Sweet but looks a little dumb. I admire her for how quickly she's managed to improve her combat skills while remaining humble and respectful to all of us. Lord Tokito is quite lucky...

Sanemi: Looks scared of me, sounds like the blonde kid that walks with Kamado... We've probably only spoken a couple of sentences to one another. Surprisingly good at combat for her cowardly demeanor, it's respectful.

[kingmintyreturns]

Heya! I just found your punch-out au fic on a recommended page and I love it to bits! It's such and interesting concept and already a great story! Even if it never continues, it's definitely gonna be something I re-read.

Also your art is cool as hell! I love the way you mix the different designs Sandman's had over the years into a cohesive design that looks really unique while staying true to the spirit of his character!

(And your selfship is so cute and you're actually the coolest for getting on cringetopia)

Aww thank you! honestly, getting into the writing process without any knowledge of structure or pacing killed me. I've been practicing quite a bit in my free time. I'm not sure if i can guarantee a continuation since i realized that i came up with the plot after suffering a few losses and identity issues and thematically, it least plotting it out (and later, selfshipping) gave me the catharsis i needed.

sometimes you get to a point with a character that it feels disingenuous to put them in certain situations like a children's plaything. Darius (mr. Sandman) in particular has grown and evolved into something bigger than punch out to me, which i don't expect to make sense to anyone but a few assorted creatives, spirituals, selfshippers and neurodivergent people. i just let him take me where he wants to go. i can't puppet him.

maybe that sounds crazy, but i don't mind. i've genuinely become a healthier person through this coping mechanism. i was diagnosed with autism a month ago, and while sometimes i still doubt, there's no doubt that my special interest has helped me process and start to heal from things i otherwise wouldn't have. i have some creative and supportive friends to thank for that too.

but i digress--thank you for the compliments! it means a lot to me that people still care about something that's brought me so much joy over the years. people may find some of my interpretations to be a bit eccentric, but i don't mind. I've had lots of people agree with me that fat is a good look on sandman.

my hope is that by being myself unapologetically, i can give at least one person out there the space to do so too. it didn't phase me one bit to get on cringetopia--i laughed my ass off. better that they go after me than someone more vulnerable.

i used to be really scared and think that all of my deepest desires, ideas and sensibilities were stupid and shameful. if i hadn't been open here, there's a chance I'd have been much more hurt by their remarks. now, it feels like it rolls right off my back when someone is mean. i might even laugh along; if you take yourself too seriously, you'll never be happy!

i wear the label "cringe" with pride--it means i am unbothered, authentic, and irreverent. i think if we were all willing to be a bit more cringe, people would feel a helluva lot more connected than they do now.