#they still have so much beauty because someone made it

[undeadentropy]

People act like her sharp wit and general academic prowess weren't part of what made her so attractive to begin with. Even ancient misogynists understood someone like her is desirable over a lawn ornament of a noblewoman who they can't hold a conversation with. Patriarchal men might think they want a trophy with no thoughts, but they get sick of that really quickly in reality (then the abuse starts).

Not saying any of the above isn't also true (because it is). Things are often many things at the same time. It's sexism, racism, and many other things. But like. Smart women have always been hot. It's not just about physical appearance, and nobility required more to be 'wife material' in any case. Cleopatra excelled so much it scared weak men, and made them love her at the same time, because being smart was a beauty standard for noble women back then (to be able to be an interesting conversation parner for their husbands, but still). Patriarchy was different back then. Attraction is complicated, and often culturally driven.

I genuinely don't know what she looked like, if that model is accurate. But I don't think that's all they meant by her beauty, even if they may or may not have realized it themselves.

History wants so badly for Cleopatra to be beautiful. Like they can’t conceive of Rome being intimidated by anything less

[hedgehog-moss]

Pls give recommendations for Odd books 🙏

Here we go, a list of literary oddity :) This post contains majestic spheres, alien taxonomies, cruel subway polytheism, a fourth-dimensional cat, disturbing earthworms, infinite space football, existential mussel terror, a Parisian absurdist time loop, and a picture of a telegraph-pole-man-cheetah. I'm not exactly recommending these books, in the sense that I won't take any complaints if you find them more odd than good, and some of them transcend the concepts of good and bad anyway.

• The Other City, Michal Ajvaz. It's all like this:

• Contes du demi-sommeil, Marcel Béalu ('Half-asleep tales') —is the book that prompted my post about stories that have no ambition or justification beyond being odd. I'm sad that it hasn't been translated :( One of the tales is about a strange opaline sphere that rolls on the road. It doesn't accelerate when the road becomes a steep slope but continues rolling majestically. At one point it floats away towards the sky. Someone wonders if it was the moon. Someone else says authoritatively "It was an angel's egg." Everyone is reassured by this explanation. The whole thing feels exactly like remembering a dream you had. There is also a man who reads too much and whose body atrophies so only his head is left and his wife puts it in an egg cup for better stability.

• Leonora Carrington— The Skeleton's Holiday, or maybe the Hearing Trumpet. I've read them so long ago but I think the latter is the one with the old ladies and nuns? There's also a guy who was murdered in his bath by a still-life painter because he said there was a carrot in one of his paintings, but it might not have been a carrot? It's hard to remember details from this book without feeling like I might be making them up. Bonus Leonora Carrington painting which kind of feels like a short story:

• The Codex Seraphinianus, of course. I wish there were more bizarre encyclopaedias out there.

Also I love this review:

• Sleep Has His House, Anna Kavan —I really liked the way this book used language; making life feel like a fever dream even more than in Samanta Schweblin's Fever Dream (which I really liked too.)

The eye is checking a record of silence, space; a nightmare, every horror of this world in its frigid and blank neutrality. The actual scope of its orbit depends on the individual concept of desolation, but approximate symbols are suggested in long roving perspectives of ocean, black swelled, in slow undulation, each whaleback swell plated in armour-hard brilliance with the moonlight clanking along it . . .

• The second half of Michael Ende's Neverending Story, where things get stranger! I remember the hand-shaped castle with eyes and the city of amnesiac former emperors and the miserable ugly worms who cry all the time out of shame then create beautiful architecture with their tears...

• The Gray House, Mariam Petrosyan. This is the one I had in mind when I talked about a 'museum of the strange, but one you wouldn't want to be trapped in after closing time'. Another book that made me feel uncomfortable in a similar (good) way was Edward Carey's Observatory Mansions, the protagonist of which is a man who curates an odd private museum and can't stand the sight of his own hands.

• Oh, speaking of uncomfortable, and hands—He Digs A Hole, by Danger Slater. To me this book was in the more-odd-than-good category but I liked its refusal to have a coherent philosophical meaning. It's about a man who can't sleep so he goes to his garden shed and saws off his hands and replaces them with gardening tools. Then he starts digging a hole. And then it gets weird. (Read at your own discretion if you have a worm phobia; there's some body horror featuring sexually aggressive earthworms. And then it gets disturbing.)

• 17776 — Someone sent me an ask a few years back to recommend this online multimedia narrative to me and I really enjoyed it! Here's the summary, borrowed from the wiki page: Set in the distant future in which all humans have become immortal and infertile, the series follows three sapient space probes that watch humanity play an evolved form of American football in which games can be played for millennia over distances of thousands of miles. The work explores themes of consciousness, hope, despair, and why humans play sports.

• Saint-Glinglin, Raymond Queneau —the author admitted that this book presents some "internal discontinuities." I didn't like it much but I respect the talent it takes to write a novel where everything feels like a random digression, including the key suspenseful scene that matters to the plot. The one digression I loved had to do with the way the narrator is existentially horrified by various sea creatures. It's like he dreads them so much he can't help but think about them when he should be telling a story.

The oyster... This gob of phlegm, this brutal way of refusing the outside world, this absolute isolation, and this disease: the pearl... If I conceptualise them even a little, my terror starts anew. The mussel is even more significant than the oyster and even more immediately admissible in the domain of terror. Let us indeed consider that this little sticky mass whose collective stupidity haunts our piers, consider that it is alive in the same way as a cow. Because there are no degrees in life. There is no more or less. The whole of life is present in every animal. To think that the mussel, that the mussel has, not a conscience, but a certain way of transcending itself: here I am once again plunged into abysses of anxiety and insecurity.

Near the beginning he philosophises about what would happen if a man and a lobster were the only two survivors of the apocalypse. The lobster would break the man's toe and the man would say, "We are the only beings that remain on this devastated Earth, lobster! The only living beings in the universe, struggling alone against the universal disaster, don't you want to be allies?" But the lobster would disdainfully walk away towards the ocean, and "the sight of the inflexible and imperturbable lobster pierces the sky of humanity with its unintelligible claws." (I can't overstate how little this has to do with the rest of the book.)

• Autumn in Beijing, Boris Vian —needless to say the story does not take place in autumn nor in Beijing.* To the extent that it can be said to be "about" something, it's about people trying to build a train station in a desert with tracks that lead nowhere. (I just went on goodreads to check the title, and it's actually called Autumn in Peking in English. I also discovered that it was featured in a list of Books I Regret Reading. I liked this book, but I understand.)

(* French writers love doing this—like when Alphonse Allais said about his 1893 book The Squadron's Umbrella "I chose this title because there aren't any umbrellas of any sort in this volume, and the important notion of the squadron, as a unit of the armed forces, is never brought up at all; in these conditions, hesitating would have been pure madness.")

• The Library at Mount Char, Scott Hawkins—I fear this one makes a little too much sense for this list, but you can't say it isn't weird; and I loved it and recommend it any chance I get.

• The Eleven Million Mile High Dancer, Carol Hill —this book was so wacky and made me laugh. I've not yet managed to successfully recommend it to someone; its brand of odd didn't resonate with the people I know who've read it but that's okay. You could say it's about a woman astronaut whose weird cat disappears into the fourth dimension (or the quantum realm?) and she goes to space to save him—but that makes the book sound more straightforward and less messy than it is. Her cat leaves her a note before he disappears:

• The Bald Soprano, Ionesco —fun fact, there's a tiny theatre in the Latin Quarter in Paris where this absurdist play has been staged every night for nearly 70 years, with the exact same set design and costumes and everything, like the actors are stuck in a time loop. They celebrated the 20,000th performance this year! There's an actress who has been playing her character for 40 years and said joining this theatre was like joining a religion. I've been going to see this play as a New Year tradition with my best friend since we were 14, so I love it madly, though I wouldn't say it's good, necessarily—the author said it was about "absolutely nothing, but a superior nothing."

• Statuary Gardens; or Les Mers perdues (apparently not translated) by Jacques Abeille. This man is obsessed with weird statues. Unfortunately I find his writing style rather dull—I feel like he takes strange ideas and makes them feel mundane in a bad way...! But his books still have a nice, quiet, oneiric atmosphere, and images that stayed with me, like a solitary gardener trying to grow stone statues in the depleted soil of a walled garden. Here are some illustrations from the second one:

I'll look into some of the books recommended on my previous post! (and I agree with the people who brought up Cortázar, Borges, and Junji Ito. <3) Some potentially-odd books I have on my to-read list: Clive Barker's Abarat, Goran Petrović's An Atlas Traced by the Sky, Salvador Plascencia's The People of Paper, Jean Ray's Malpertuis; Jan Weiss's The House of a Thousand Floors; Brice Tarvel's Pierre-Fendre.

[chanelnumbermine]

2024 f2 boys when someone else compliments you | f2 grid picks x gn!reader

since u liked the previous part so much, i decided to write a little more and added franquito! he has a special place in my heart after this season (mentally i’m still in imola sprint). i’m very open to learn about more drivers and add them to the list! have a nice read!

pairing(s): ollie bearman x gn!reader, kimi antonelli x gn!reader, zane maloney x gn!reader, paul aron x gn!reader, pepe marti x gn!reader, luke browning x gn!reader, franco colapinto x gn!reader;

warning(s): itty bitty possessive behaviour, mostly cuteness!!

ollie bearman | prema —> haas f1

squeezes your hand and smiled politely

"thank you. they really do light up every room."

he says dryly and tries to shrug off this weird feeling in his chest

becomes a little stiff and after a while he asks

“do random people compliment you like that often?”

you shrug and smirk, seeing he’s a little jealous

“they were right, you look stunning. i should say that more often”

andrea kimi antonelli | prema —> mercedes amg pertronas

he’s already a little flustered because you came over to see his family

you click with them instantly

"uh, thanks mom. i say it every day."

to him you’re the sweetest prettiest person ever and he sometimes forgets that other people can also see that

it’s just hard to remember about the whole world when he’s in your presence

you’re his and he’s fully yours, and he’ll spend the rest of the day clinging to you

he’s nott that good with words, but very good at making you feel loved

paul aron | hitech —> bwt alpine reserve driver

i bet it was one of your friends who complimented you

and paul? tries to outdo the other person with compliments

"you're not just radiant, darling, you look literally ethereal. you know, your eyes ere like the moon. so big and shiny."

thinks he's smooth

he's not

but he's adorable as hell, grinning like and idiot and spewing nonsense just to make you laugh

you'd have to kiss him to shut him up

“i was supposed to make you blush, not the other way around…”

zane maloney | rodin —> formula e

awkward as hell

could be even a little insecure

why would anyone dare compliment you? do they think they have a chance with you?

he tries not to show it, but is not good at it

"aww, are you pouting?" you teased him

he chuckled and scratched the back of his neck nervously

"what, me? you're seeing things"

please reassure him!! he’s the sweetest bunny

pepe marti | campos, red bull academy

"yeah, of course my baby looks beautiful tonight."

goes full on protective mode

could become sarcastic, maybe even passive-aggressive

"i knew this day would come. i have to fend off other admirers."

you laugh and poke his arm

"must be so hard having a beautiful partner, huh?"

huffs playfully and kisses your forehead

luke browning | hitech —> f2

he was joking around with his friends when one of them made an innocent cute comment about your looks

“i know, right? they make me look better just standing next to me”

tries to divert the attention from you

on the outside he seems quite normal, but inside he’s seething with jealousy

like, why would anyone feel the need to point out the obvious???

sneaks his arm around your waist

peppers your face with kisses when you have a little time alone

franco colapinto | mp —> williams racing

whatever the circumstances, he goes into full yapping mode

franco takes seizes every opportunity to brag about who he managed to pull

"right!! you see, mom, they bake the best cookies. one time, when we were in madrid, we ate those cinnamon buns i like so much and..."

he just wants everyone to know you're the best person he's ever had the privilege to meet

he wants to share all the best memories with his family! and has no filter

"no, sis, we weren’t drunk that much… oh, you’re totally right amor, we were, sorry”

the compliments are flowing from both sides, its very natural and franqui doesn’t get worked up at all

masterlist

[lovesturni0l0s]

FLUFFMAS DAY 21/22: chris realizes he does want to get married

seeing his gf as a bridesmaid makes him realize that maybe getting married wouldn’t be so bad

wc: 1.1k

lmk if u wanna be tagged 🫶🏻

a/n: so sry this didn’t get out yesterday i was super busy 😭

dividers by the lovely @bernardsbendystraws

chris’s POV:

I had never understood the hype around weddings, or even the need for them honestly. It all seemed like too much fuss and stress for one day, and if I wanted to spend the rest of my life with someone I didn’t need to declare it in front of hundreds of people that I didn’t really like.

But when Y/N asked me to be her date to her friend’s wedding, where she was a bridesmaid, I couldn’t say no. Not to her. Even if I didn't enjoy weddings or having to get all dressed up I was gonna go and pretend to have fun because I knew it would make her happy.

On the day of the wedding I showed up to the venue a little early so I could find her before the ceremony began. I texted her telling her where I was so she could come find me, knowing I would get lost looking for her on my own.

“Chris!” I heard her call from behind me and when I turned to her my jaw fell in shock. I had seen her dressed up before but not like this and I was in awe of how gorgeous she looked. I stood frozen, staring at her as she walked up to me laughing, “Hi handsome” she smiled.

“I am the luckiest man alive” I smiled as I gently grabbed her waist, pulling her close to me, “You look absolutely stunning baby.” I smiled at her. “Thank you love” she blushed, “you clean up pretty nice handsome.” She said as she adjusted my tie. “Only for you” I winked, “As much as I would love to stay with your corny ass I do have bridesmaids duties I gotta get to so I’ll see you in a bit.” She said as she kissed me before heading off.

I managed to find a seat with some of Y/N’s friends that I had met a few times and caught up with them while we waited for the ceremony to start. Once the ceremony began my eyes were immediately locked on Y/N as she gracefully walked down the aisle with one of the groomsmen.

She was carrying a small bouquet of flowers in her hand and her smile brightened when we locked eyes across the rows of people. Throughout the entire ceremony my eyes never left her. In their vows the couple talked about their love for each other and how they couldn’t wait for the start of the rest of their lives.

Listening to their vows as I watched Y/N I knew she was it for me, as I saw her smile at her friend, her eyes flicking to mine for a moment, I wondered how I had ever not known I wanted to marry her. She could have a fancy castle wedding with a thousand people if she wanted, and I would be there with a smile on my face, grateful to be loved by her.

We spent the rest of the night dancing and laughing with her friends under twinkly lights that made her eyes glow. “You are so beautiful.” I said quietly as she wrapped her arms around my neck as we swayed to a slow song. “Thank you my love.” She smiled, kissing me gently. Her glowing presence captivated all of my attention.

The next day I found a jewelry store and with the help of her best friend I found a beautiful ring that I hoped she would love. When I came home, the ring tucked in my pocket, she was still asleep in bed. “Morning pretty” I whispered as I laid back down next to her, pushing her hair out of her face.

“Mhm, morning” she whispered, half asleep, “I brought you coffee and your favorite muffin” I smiled, knowing she’d wake up. “Food” she said as she stuck her hand out, eyes still shut, “kiss first” I teased as she slowly opened her eyes. “No gross I have morning breath” she groaned, hiding her face, “and I don’t give a flying fuck” I laughed as I leaned over, kissing her gently before handing her her food.

I laid with her as she slowly woke up, with the help of her coffee and muffin, “We got plans today, I need you to put on one of your pretty sundresses and be ready in two hours.” I told her, “What are we doing?” She asked, “that’s for me to know and you to find out baby.”

Once she was dressed and ready I took her to a secluded spot on the beach, “What are we doing Chris?” She asked, confused. “Well I know the beach is your favorite place so I figured this was the perfect spot” I smiled at her confusion, “perfect spot for what?” She asked, laughing.

“To ask you to spend forever with me” I smiled as I got on one knee, pulling the small velvet box out of my pocket. “Chris?” She said in shock, her hand flying to her face to cover her bright smile.

“Y/N, I have spent the last three years of my life having the pleasure of loving you and being loved by you. You have become my favorite person and everyday I learn something new about you that makes me fall even more in love with you. You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out, and when I saw you standing at that altar yesterday I knew I would be an idiot if I didn’t marry you. Nothing in this world would make me happier than spending the rest of my life with you so Y/N, will you marry me baby?” I asked, smiling up at her through tears.

“Yes! Oh my god! Yes I’ll marry you Chris!” She said as she choked through tears while I slid the ring on her finger, wrapping my arms around her waist as she clung to me. “Oh my god! I love you so much, holy shit!” She laughed in disbelief as I held her tight against me.

Nick, Matt, and her best friend burst into cheers, as she turned to them, smiling in shock. “I knew you wanted someone to take pictures and I figured who better than Nick?” I smiled as she wiped her tears. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you Chris.” She smiled as I kissed her, her lips pulled up into a smile against mine.

And even though I always said I would never cry at my wedding, when I watched her walk down the aisle towards me, I couldn’t help it .

tags🫶🏻: @bernardsbendystraws @colorthecosmos444 @sturnihoelooo @endereies @matts-myloverboy @hoes4matthew @sturniololuv08 @emely9274 @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @lovergirl4gracieabrams @conspiracy-ash @h3arts4harry @17twelch17 @iluvchriswglasses @prettyybunnyy

[mama-qwerty]

Oh, if anything we gotta tackle that entire scene with Sonic and Shads on the moon. It was just beautiful

Oh that scene was handled so well.

The way Sonic released Shadow, then moved away and sat with his back to him. Hugging his knees as he spoke of Longclaw, and the feelings that he'd carried after her death.

Sonic wasn't trying to appeal to Shadow's morals in that moment. He was vulnerable, and open, and telling Shadow things he likely had never told anyone else. He made himself small, like he'd been when he lost Longclaw. Giving voice to those feelings, that grief, he'd carried for a long time.

He was talking about his own experience with grief. And that's what drew Shadow out. Sonic wasn't telling him that "it'll get better, you've gotta live for her" and all those other niceties. He knows how much it hurts. He knows that pain doesn't go away completely. And he's not going to tell Shadow it will.

That is what got through to Shadow. Here was someone else who understood what Shadow was going through. Who had wrestled with his own sorrow and pain. And who still did, to an extent, based on how Sonic was acting during that scene. But he wouldn't let that pain and anger control him. Wouldn't let himself hurt anyone else to help rid himself of it.

Because it wouldn't make him feel better. Sonic knew that. He may have been tempted, so very tempted to hurt Shadow because Shadow had hurt Tom, and by extension the rest of the family. But ultimately, Sonic realized that's not who he was.

And that's what Knuckles was banking on, and why he ultimately let Sonic have the Master Emerald. Sonic had to make that choice himself, and Knux trusted that Sonic would come to that realization. Because he knew Sonic's heart.

Sonic was the best person to connect with Shadow like that, because he felt Shadow's pain. They'd lost their loved ones in much the same way, too--Longclaw and Maria had both been killed by invading forces. Sonic was sent to a different planet, all by himself, at just 4 or so years old. Shadow was put in status almost immediately after losing Maria, and woke up to a world he didn't understand, and now had to navigate by himself, all with this crushing weight of grief on his heart.

And in that moment, they understood each other.

It was really wonderfully done.

[sirxlla]

Spending New Years with the Batboys 🎉

----------------------------------------------------

Dick: Of course being the social butterfly Dick was he wanted you to both be out and about. Of course being Bruce's son he was invited to several several New Year's Eve parties. This man was a complete Hufflepuff at heart with the way that he just loved people. He had one of those little cone hats on that had the little metallic plastic pieces that would go everywhere on top, putting one ontop of your head as well. He was always wondering about the cliches and everything so of course as everyone around the room counted down... dick pretended to be focused on the countdown as he shouted as well but as soon as it hit that final moment of the new year and abruptly kissed you almost knocking you off your feet at the same time. How could someone so agile, be so clumsy at the same time?

Jason: Already halfway through the night you were drunk as a skunk. This asshole challenge you to be your pong which of course he was a thousand times better at and you had down several several cups of cheap beer. Jason practically had you hanging off of him swearing your words and flirting with him in ways that made absolutely zero sense but also telling him you had a boyfriend? He was laughing his ass off cuz he thought it was just the funniest thing ever.

Bruce: Bruce had some sorta charity gala so he got dressed up all snazzy and he'd bought you this beautiful outfit to wear. Of course his entire night was filled with him having to make speeches because of course everyone in the entire city wants to hear Bruce Wayne speak. As the time got closer to the New Year arriving and he pulled you to the side into an unoccupied area so that he could spend some time with you alone to celebrate this together. The both of you watched the fireworks together in silence standing very close to each other and just enjoying each other's presents silently. As much as you wish Bruce would talk more there was times like this where you were so happy that the both of you could enjoy them and each other without saying anything.

Tim: "No, I promise. I can 100% stay up til then!" The both of you had been up for nearly 72 hours because of crimes and such in Gotham, this man also broke his coffee machine after already having six cups and he was bouncing off the walls like a ping pong ball. The two of you didnt even make it to ten p.m. before the both of you were past out on the couch after crashing. He did pass out before you which prompted your tired self to think it was funny to draw a mustache on his face and a dick on his cheek.

Damian: Damian thought the tradition was interesting but growing up within the League, a new year was still something to celebrate. Even so it was something you did on your own and not something you made a specticle of yourself out of to do it. There were no fireworks, resolutions or large acts of love. Damian never needed a holiday to prove his love, its one of the reasons he hated Valentine's day too. He spent his New Years Eve in the cave sparring with you occasionally and secretly catching his watch. He might not have been into the holiday stuff but he knew you kinda were and he kissed you as soon as his watch turned to midnight.

(Send me prompts, if you'd like <3)

Masterlists

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Me, Us, and You

Synopsis: You've been used one too many times, and find comfort in the arms of those you love.

Foul Legacy x Reader Pronouns: Gender Neutral (no pronouns mentioned) Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Comfort Warnings: Mentions of being used as an emotional outlet

~ * ~

“Hey… why do people like using me?” Foul Legacy looks up from the chunk of crystal he was batting around, tilting his head curiously. You catch his gaze, inquisitive and concerned, and sigh. “…Sorry. It’s nothing.” He frowns with a quiet trill. Not good- he’s seen this habit before, your way of pushing down your emotions, never speaking a word. Legacy shakes out his fur, rising to his feet and crossing the room before plopping down beside you, chittering in worry. His claws knead against the carpet, nudging and pushing up against you gingerly until you finally huff out a laugh and weakly shove him back. “…You get what I mean." He does. Far too well. He’s seen it happen, from behind a corner as Childe; idly twirling a coin between his fingers, walking up to meet you at your favorite restaurant, or merely happening to pass by on the street.

One, two, three. Then more. The number of times that you’ve been treated as a mere outlet. You’re too kind for your own good, too patient, too understanding. Why can’t you get angry? Why don’t you tell off the people who start using you as an object to vent their emotions to- or at least tell them no? Instead you just smile and nod, offer your advice even when you don’t know what to say since you don’t even know your own feelings and what they mean, but you try so, so hard to lift them up, help them feel strong, better, braver. And they do. They smile again, nod, laugh. Sometimes they take your advice, sometimes they just want someone to agree with them. Whatever the case, they leave lighter, and you leave with a new burden in your arms. It’s fine. You don’t mind carrying it for them, as long as they’re happier- you insist that it makes you happy if they are, too. But inside it still hurts, knowing you only exist when someone needs you to listen. When you need to fulfil a certain role or do something for someone.

They started getting used to it, too. Pulling you into conversations as innocently as a lamb only to pour forth a tidal sea of issues and frustration. They cry and rant and yell and scream and then pat you on the back with a smile with a see you soon and talk to you later. One even paused, looking at your tapping fingers, your focused expression, and told you to write things down. So you could remember them for later, if more things came up- we wouldn’t want you to forget, now would we? A pause, a strained smile, as you fished a notebook and pencil from your bag. It made dread coil in your chest, a heavy weight over your heart. That’s right. You only matter as long as you have use.

There’s a croon, and you blink, shaken from your daze. Foul Legacy stares down at you, crystalline eye wide and anguished. No. No, no, no- he hates that you think of yourself like that, as someone, something to be used. He crawls towards you, cupping your face in his claws and letting out a soft, saddened warble. His wings twitch and flutter, curling in your direction as if he wants nothing more than to cuddle you close and shield you from all the dreadful things in the world, because he does, his instincts scratching at his skull and hissing, biting, gnashing the source of your hurt, trying to vanquish it in battle and make it disappear. Protect. Heal. Love.

Legacy squeezes you a bit tighter, pressing your head against his lavender fluff, grown soft with how much you brush and fawn over it. You think he’s beautiful- you’ve told him before, time and time again. Beautiful, lovely, wonderful- why can’t you see how amazing you are, too? How much you help, how much you matter? Even if anyone else can’t see past their own nose, he knows how much you deserve to be showered with gratitude and affection. His gentle nuzzles shift and crackle lightly, turning to soft skin, scarred hands massaging your arms. Childe presses his forehead to yours, his despair on par with Foul Legacy’s, murmuring frantic words of reassurance filled with tears. Nothing, nothing, nothing. That’s all you ever call your feelings, your wants and needs. You’ve spent so long supporting others that you can’t even remember anything you desire, truly, nothing at all. He caresses your cheek, looking deep into your eyes with an oceanic gaze. Please, tell him something you want. Anything. Please. You shudder, and desperately reach your arms to him. Childe meets you halfway, wrapping you in a firm, tight hug and pressing his face against your shoulder.

He wants to give you everything, yet he knows what you need most is someone you can just exist with, not to help, not to complete a task for them, but just to be in their- his- presence. If you listen to his woes, ever, not even the Archons would be able to stop him from listening to yours, because you deserve it. Friendships go both ways, the world seems to have forgotten. Childe was your friend first, and he’s your friend now, and your love, your Harbinger, your sweet, monstrous Foul Legacy, and he adores you with every fiber of his being. Childe peppers kisses over your face, one hand human, the other armored talons, both him and his Abyssal half comforting you. Yes, they get what you mean. They get what you mean all too well, aching and weeping and watching you suffer again and again, wringing yourself dry for people who toss you away once their problems are solved.

But not with them. Never again with Childe and Legacy, forever by your side. You have no tears left to cry, but they still hush you, gently. Shh, shh… it’s alright. Everything will be okay. Childe sighs as he pulls away, tracing your features with a finger and holding back his own sobs, steadying his voice against his resentment towards the world for your treatment. “Talk to me. Talk to us. Please.” For us, we love you so.

[narcjsistx]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 | OS

karasu tabito x fem reader ; words: 1.9k (1939)

coming from this event, fifth day, 22/12

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

plot: the pact had been clear from the beginning: only needy kisses when the situation called for it, but no relationships. everything had been going smoothly up until that point, but the main problem was that now you were falling for your enemy's best friend. does tabito not want relationships because he doesn't want to set up seriously or just because he's afraid of ruining everything by being mediocre?

Even though you are literally in each other's arms, you feel Karasu light years away from you. The grip he had on your hips a few seconds ago has suddenly diminished, remaining sloppily leaning but not holding them. It took just a few words to destroy the perfect harmony that has existed between you since this strange situation began, and you don't know whether to regret having said them or to still be as convinced as you were until recently. You just know that, now, Karasu is not the same one who was kissing you until a moment ago, with the same usual sweetness

"We should stop. I'm starting to develop feelings for you and I don't want to suffer through something like this"

Words spoken in one breath, but which contained everything, or more, that you felt for the boy who until today has always been your kisser. You said that you started, and not that for months now you have thought only and exclusively of him, that you dream of being able to have a relationship with him, that you would simply like to stop being an ordinary girl and become his girlfriend. But what you dreamed of didn't fit your plan, the one that until now had given you the chance to be so close to him. The plan was simple: just kisses, maybe sooner or later a sexual relationship if you both agreed, but never and ever a relationship

Yet, it seemed so easy to fall in love with him. Karasu is polite, he knows how to joke without being offensive, he has a hobby that he is committed to and has many friends who love him, and he also knows how to treat women. It was impossible for you to understand how a boy like that is best friends with Otoya Eita, the same boy who broke your heart after a relationship that lasted no more than two weeks. You could easily say that the hatred you felt for the ninja turned into love when it came to Tabito.

It all started with this pretext: help me make Otoya regret leaving me, make him understand that I am the best girl he could spend his life with. Betting on his best friend had been a risky choice, but Karasu had accepted. And so, in front of the white and green haired boy, the kisses between you and Karasu had begun their battle against him, who frankly had never paid much attention to you two, only surprised to see Karasu with someone after long time since last time

Almost everyone, even his friends, thought you were a couple. But you both said no, you were just young and a relationship would only hinder the beautiful bond you had. Yet, your goal of making Otoya jealous had turned into nothing in less than a few weeks, while you began to reflect that Karasu was actually a good guy. That, besides the kisses, he also treated you well, and he didn't have the same behavior with girls as he had with you

And so, for a year now, you had begun to think that you loved him seriously, that kisses were not enough for you. It had taken you a year to say the words you had just said to him, and yet you had already regretted it. His face conveyed an all too obvious surprise, untypical for someone like him

"I know you don't want a relationship, so let's end this. It was fun"

You knew he didn't want a relationship, he had made it clear from the start. You had talked about it other times, and his words were always the same. They hurt you, but they were reality

"I don't want a relationship, it would hinder me and my future career as a striker. Professional players never have a steady relationship until they reach an important goal, and I will do the same. After I win, I will look for someone to spend the rest of my life with. But it's not that time yet"

Your heart hurt, your body, everything. It hurt to think that from now on, you would do without him, without his lips on yours and without the good feeling that always existed in your stomach when you knew he was looking at you. You were letting go of something you loved so much, but you knew that by doing so, maybe you would save yourself more future pain

"Are you kidding me?"

"No. It's all over, I don't want anymore"

You didn't know why he didn't want a relationship, or rather, the explanation he had given you so long ago didn't seem entirely right. Karasu, in your eyes, seemed like someone who needed love so much, who even sought it, but why did he reject it if he had plenty of it, of yours, under his hands?

There was something that told you that he was rejecting love because of a more personal fear, because of something that you had always had before your eyes but had never understood. Something that, you thought, made him very insecure. But what was this insecurity of his if he was so perfect? What he was hiding from you?

Slowly, you pulled away from his grip, which no longer held you to him. Your lowered gaze helped you not to look him in the eyes, because seeing even a shred of sadness would have destroyed you. It was the best choice, but why did it hurt?

"You can't be serious, everything is going great"

"It's precisely because everything is going well that I want to stop. Karasu, I think I seriously love you, kisses are no longer enough for me. But at the same time, I know you don't want a relationship, and I don't want to force you to have one with me. If everything continues to go so well in my mind we will be like boyfriend and girlfriend, while you will continue to think of us as just two friends. And I will suffer from this, because I know myself"

You had to be harsh with your words, even if you didn't really want to be, and especially not with him, who hadn't actually done anything to you. But if you weren't, it would have been even worse

He didn't want a relationship. He didn't want a relationship. He didn't want a relationship

But really, why?

"You can't just go away and break everything. Don't you think about me?"

Karasu has never been someone who blames things, he has always admitted that he hates those who do it, because he thinks they are mediocre, and he hates mediocre people

"Yes, and it's better for both"

"You don't know what's fucking best for me..."

"Instead, yes. Think of it as if our relationship was a test for what you will have with your future girlfriend"

"I don't even want to think about anyone else other than you"

Karasu wasn't the type to say things like that, especially things that sounded like a declaration of love, and hell, it seemed like one to you. Why did he just say those words if he always reminded you that he doesn't want to think about anything but his career? Is there seriously something he's hiding from you that goes beyond the simple justification he's always given you?

"If you don't think I know what's best for you, tell me. What's best for you, Tabito?"

Maybe you had crossed the line, just maybe

"The best thing for me is to believe that I am enough for you, but I can't be if I am so disgustingly mediocre. Giving you something mediocre, being yours, is something that bothers me, because I never want to see you with something or someone who is not on your level. The thought of you walking away suffocates me, but I know that sooner or later you would realize how much I am not enough. I don't want you Y/n, even if I really do, because you don't deserve shit. Why did you fall in love with someone like me instead, so mediocre?"

So there was actually something in Karasu's thoughts, something that you actually didn't even remotely expect: how could he, so perfect in your eyes, consider himself mediocre?. The excuse of his career was therefore evidently just a bullshit to hide this more intimate side of his, who had fought so hard to hide it from your eyes, who instead saw it with an inhuman perfection

"Mediocre things don't work, they don't make things enjoyable. Settling is not love, and putting yourself in a situation like that would destroy me. I would ruin everything sooner or later, trust me"

You wanted to shut him up, you seriously wanted to. Hearing him talk so badly about himself hurt your heart, since you didn't even remotely have these thoughts about him. Never ever, in your thoughts, had you imagined him ruining everything, he who in situations always tried to resolve in the best possible way. Maybe he wasn't aware of how great it was, how 'mediocre' was the last word in the world to describe it. Maybe he was genuinely insecure about something that didn't actually exist, but was just in his head for some unknown reason

"If you consider me enough for everything, how do you explain the thing that I fell in love with you, that instead you consider yourself mediocre? Don't you think that I fell in love because you are so perfect in my eyes that I don't understand your doubts? Karasu, you have no idea how much you are not even remotely wrong, you are anything but wrong. Falling in love with someone so perfect, who knows how to love but is afraid, is I think one of the most intelligent things I have ever done, and you know that I have done a lot of stupid things in life. But I want to make you aware of how much you are enough, much more than enough. For me you know how to love, you want someone who loves you, but you are afraid. I want to take away this fear from you"

Silently, you had unmasked the mask that Karasu Tabito had so glued to his face: under that self-confident, sometimes even selfish face, there was a boy who was extremely insecure about himself, who was just waiting for someone who could love him without fear of his insecurities. You had destabilized him with your words, you could see it from the way he was slowly destroying himself. Your words were true, and you hoped that by destroying himself he would understand that you meant them

"Suppose I accept your love. Suddenly I do something, I ruin everything"

"I'll try to love you again until everything works perfectly. And in the meantime you learn where you went wrong and you don't do it again, because I know you can do it. To err is human"

You wanted to love him, you wanted him to love himself. And if trying again with him every time meant making him realize that he wasn't as shit as he said he was, you would try again and again

Mediocre was his fear, not he. A human mediocrity, because in reality everyone has fears of this kind; you had some too

"Let yourself be loved, Karasu. Let your dream come true, because I never want to see you sad about something like that"

"If I make a mistake, will you try again? Shall we try again?"

"Until my last breath"

TAG: @natmagaesp ; @kittenish0 ; @x3nafix

[brucewaynehater101]

ok so this Tim's stuck in B's body

He made sure he was alone in a batcave, he knew he was alone. he didn't want to lose it, and yet, here he was. it's been too much. burying his own body. dealing with never seeing, or, at least, interacting with his friends ever again. becoming a father to his siblings, to Damian, which probably was already way too much. so he sat there. alone. going through it, because in the evening there was supposed to be a gala, and he would have to play Brucie, the role he genuinely hated.

He was alone, he didn't account for someone being there.

"Tim," Dick said softly, and it took everything from Tim to not whip around.

"He is dead, you need to accept it," he said, now grateful for Bruce's gruff voice. Hating that it sounds so deep inside of him.

"I've been around Bruce for twenty years," Dick leant on the Batcomputer table. He was in his civilian attire, "Do you really think I wouldn't notice?" there was a soft smile on his lips, and Tim felt, like he wanted to cry. He didn't.

Maybe he should keep a charade. Keep acting like he's Bruce.

"And even if I'm mistaken," he said, looking away towards the entrance to the mansion. "I"m always willing to give you a hand in case everything is too overwhelming after his death."

Tim didn't feel better, he only could go through his actions in panic, thinking what exactly set Dick off, he needed to fix it, to keep pretending he's Bruce, that's the only way.

"So if you can't deal with the whole plate, I'll help you. I'm just from Damian's teacher-parent meeting, by the way," Tim forgot, Bruce forgot, oh gosh, he forgot. "They still have my phone as their first contact," Dick huffed, like it was funny, like it wasn't a failure on Bruce's - Tim's? - part. "And I can go out as a Bat if you don't feel like it."

"You hate it though," Tim said, it wasn't something Bruce would say.

"You hate it more, baby bird," Dick said and pushed himself off the table. "If anything, I'll get ready for today's gala, I'll tell everyone you don't feel well."

Tim wanted to say something, he needed to say something, but when he turned around Dick wasn't there.

That was probably the worst time to get his hallucinations back, wasn't it.

(let's not make it that angsty and just have it as Dick actually came, but Tim dissociated for awhile, and thought Dick disappeared into the thin air)

Here's one(?) of the posts referencing this AU!

This ask focuses on the premise that Bruce and Tim switch bodies, don't tell anyone, and then Bruce dies in Tim's body forever trapping Tim in Bruce's body (while no one else knows).

This is magnificent, my friend. A beautiful addition.

I like making Tim suffer through his problems alone, but you are absolutely correct.

Out of all of the batkids, Dick *would* know Bruce best (unless it's Bruce *about* Dick). It makes perfect sense for him to notice that Bruce isn't acting like Bruce would.

There are reasons he wouldn't notice (he's busy, out of town, distracted, Tim planned for that, or Dick is grieving/spiraling), but it's more likely that Dick would notice than not.

Also, can you imagine the conversations they'd have? The debates? Is it better to let their family members know that *Tim* is inhibiting Bruce's body or to let them grieve Tim instead? Just Dick and Tim constantly fighting about what's best

[Including a very painful remark from Dick about how Tim is turning into Bruce because the younger one refuses to let anyone else know]

Anyways, this could result in Dick supporting Tim and being there for him.

On the other hand, here's some angst ideas instead:

Tim starts hallucinating more to deal with his loss of identity meaning that Dick was just a hallucination (and soon Tim starts seeing both himself and Bruce haunting him)

Dick knows that whoever is wearing his dad's face *isn't* Bruce, but he doesn't realize it's Tim (especially because Tim is "dead" and Bruce is "missing").

When Bruce dies in Tim's body, Bruce's soul returns to his body but Tim stays stuck in there as well :D

When Tim's body dies, Bruce's body starts to slowly deteriorate without Bruce's soul

I think that's enough angst for now :)

[rita-repulsa-ke]

Agatha and Rio in a dark romance novel

Rio is a mob boss or a CEO or something, someone with too much money and too much power. Agatha is the innocent ingenue, completely unlike all other girls because she reads books (magic tomes) and doesn't wear makeup (can't be bothered).

Rio is both fascinated and repelled by how Agatha makes her feel things she's never felt before, ie, emotions. She shoves her against a convenient wall, attempting to loom over her. "You're mine, babe," she declares.

"What?" Agatha sneers. "Ew, no." But then she sees Rio's watch. It's very expensive. So are her clothes. There are possibilities here. "...Well, maybe. What exactly does that entail?"

In response, a courier delivers a beautiful dress to her shabby apartment later that night, accompanied by a note that says 'be my date'.

She doesn't respond to the note, but she does keep the dress. It looks great on her.

Fine, Rio will simply have to escalate! She shows up in her amazing car to take Agatha for a ride in her private helicopter.

"Boring," Agatha says, staring at a bunch of buildings from far too high above the ground, vaguely nauseous. "Buy me a car or something."

"You're not supposed to say that," Rio complains. "You're supposed to pretend you don't want all the amazing, expensive things I'm going to end up buying you."

"Well, I'm sure not with you for your company, all you do is brood and declare that I 'belong to you'." Agatha pats Rio's knee, completely distracting her for a moment. "Oh, sometimes you try to tell me what I can or cannot do or get jealous when I talk to other people."

"...That last part does sound right," Rio agrees, still staring at the hand on her knee. "Fine, I'll buy you whatever you want. "

She buys Agatha a car and some expensive jewelry and a number of good stocks, all of which Agatha sells for profit, then moves to a Caribbean island with a history of interesting magical anomalies.

It doesn't take Rio long to track her down, of course, where she's sipping a Mai Tai on a beach, reading a magical tome. "Oh," she sighs when Rio looms in front of her, blocking the sun. "It's you. Go away, I'm reading."

"No. I love you. You belong to me." She does sit down, though, next to her on the sand. "I miss you. I think about you constantly. You're the only one whose ever made me feel like this." All true.

Agatha rolls her eyes and turns a page. "Don't care, not interested, go find some other girl to harass."

Rio chews on her lip for a little while. "...Do you want to maybe have angry BDSM sex about it?"

Agatha perks at once and tosses aside her tome. "Why didn't you say that in the first place?" she asks, coming to her feet and dragging Rio up behind her, their hands absently and comfortably interlocking.

"I think you're supposed to be shy and overwhelmed," Rio points out. "You know, appropriately ashamed of your desires?"

Agatha cackles at the idea. "Why would I be? Come on, I've got handcuffs in my room."

"...Wait," Rio says, even as she's happily being dragged down a beach. "I'm supposed to be the experienced one. I'm supposed to top!"

"Maybe after I'm done," Agatha says. "If I feel like it."

Rio considers, then looks down at their interlinked hands and can't suppress a smile. "Okay, beloved," she decides. "Whatever you say. ...You really are mine, though, you know."

"Gross," Agatha says. "...So do you want to buy me dinner afterwards and hear about my latest spell?"

"Of course," Rio answers, unable to imagine anything she could want more.

masterpost or click this link to go to a random post on this blog, which will probably be a fic of some kind

[deathmetalunicorn1]

One Punch Man Saitama x Mitsuri Reader who is his wife?

This would be hilarious because all the Heroes would be utterly shocked that this gorgeous and incredibly attractive woman is actually MARRIED to the plain looking and Bald Saitama

Reader is married to Saitama because she loves and adores him wholeheartedly, as he accepts her strength, hair color and large appetite (As his second reason why

-Heads turned and eyes went wide, jaws dropping as you walked by with everyone in awe of your stunning beauty.

-You were dressed up in a beautiful evening gown, attending a gala being thrown by the Hero Association, being a pro-hero yourself, and a very popular one at that, as your looks had gained you a fan base early on, but it was your power and strength that skyrocketed you into stardom.

-You had your quirks, from your unnatural strength to your massive appetite, but many defended you from your trolls, who tried bullying you, saying you shouldn’t eat so much, and it wasn’t cute to see you eating enough that would feed a large squadron of soldiers.

-You were respectful to everyone you met, and many admired you and desired you, seeing you as the perfect partner, only there was one issue- there was a ring on a very important finger! You were married!!

-The moment your admirers saw your ring their dreams were dashed of having a relationship with you, and those bold enough to still approach you were quick to learn that you were very loyal to your husband.

-The heroes all wanted to know who your husband was, thinking it was someone they could take him so they could take you away and give you the life you truly deserved.

-A few knew who your husband was, Genos, Blizzard or Fubuki as the two of you were friends, King, and Puri-Puri Prisoner, who admired your strength and beauty, and they all kept quiet if asked, in respect to not only you but your husband.

-To the dismay of many, who were going to approach you while you were holding a flute of champagne, looking around the party like you were looking for someone when you beamed, “Darling~~!”

-Eyes watched you and to the shock of many you leapt into the arms of your husband, Saitama, who smiled softly, greeting you warmly as he wrapped his arms around you.

-Genos greeted you as you pulled back from Saitama and you greeted him as well with a bright smile as you were all oblivious to the stunned crowd around you.

-How did a guy like Saitama get a babe like you?!

-It wasn’t fair and so many were glaring daggers at your oblivious husband who allowed himself to be pulled over to the buffet so you could both sample the provided food.

-Genos could see the animosity towards his master, turning with a fierce glare which had many quickly looking around, trying to play off they weren’t looking at you or glaring at Saitama as you held up a cherry tomato to his lips.

-You loved Saitama, as he treated you like a normal person, not caring that you were incredibly strong, or that you ate like a dump truck- to him you were just Y/N- his beautiful wife. That’s what drew you to him, because he treated you like a normal person.

-He was also able to handle your strength due to his own, hard-earned strength, so the two of you were quite similar, both didn’t look like you were powerful heroes, but looks were very deceiving, something your friends all knew about the both of you.

-Saitama held up a strawberry to your lips which made you beam, taking it and immediately your eyes were sparkling, a hand coming to cup your cheek at the tasty berry as he smiled, seeing how happy you looked.

-He would trade the world just to stay with you, as you were his everything, his reason for fighting now, as he had to keep you safe, despite knowing full well you could take care of yourself, as it was his job as your husband, to support and protect you.

[brooklyncircus]

This one-shot is for you, my beautiful reader 𖹭.

Satoru Gojo loved Christmas.

He loved the presents, the tree, the carols, the garlands, and the unique atmosphere that seemed to bring people together on such a special occasion.

And for that very reason, he wanted to spend it with someone special. More specifically, with the little grump Megumi Fushiguro—a child with the personality of a retired war veteran who didn’t want to deal with anyone, let alone be bothered.

Even so, Satoru sometimes made a fool of himself just to see him smile. Or he’d do dangerous things. He knew the boy had a tough childhood, but he wanted him to have different memories with him—ones worth keeping.

And if that meant making a fool of himself over and over again... he knew he’d do it.

Because, after all, he loved little Megumi Fushiguro. And he’d do anything to make him happy...

And to make him smile.

That’s why he had planned something special for this festive season. He knew Megumi had never had a proper Christmas—never a ‘normal’ one where he truly enjoyed himself. And he wanted to change that. At the moment, Megumi was under the care of Shoko Ieiri, one of his colleagues, while Satoru arranged everything in his flat to ensure it was perfect for the two of them.

The tree shone brightly by the large fireplace, tall and majestic, with every ornament, light, and decoration perfectly in place. Two Christmas stockings hung over the fireplace, and garlands adorned the stairs. The table was set to perfection, along with cookies and sweet treats near the fire. He even had the presents ready, wrapped, and tied with bows labelled ‘Megumi.’

When everything was done, he sent Shoko a message, and she brought the boy back home. Megumi’s stern, grumpy façade faltered slightly when he saw how the place was decorated.

And Satoru noticed. The boy’s eyes sparkled, his lips parted slightly, and the little wrinkle between his brows vanished. He stood still—very still—unsure of what to say.

“Do you like it?” Satoru asked, standing beside him and waiting for his answer as he gazed at the Christmas tree and the surroundings. To him, it wasn’t much, but it must have been more than enough for someone who was used to much grander things in his clan.

But Megumi’s response lacked its usual sarcastic, mocking tone. Instead, it was sincere—clear like a crystal lake without shadows. Like the sun rising over the horizon, banishing the night’s darkness. “Yes, I like it a lot.”

Satoru leaned closer to whisper in the boy’s ear, “Do you want to stay up until midnight to see if you can spot Santa?”

He smiled when Megumi nodded, his eyes fixed on the large golden star atop the tree.

The evening was lovely and heartwarming. They had dinner together, then enjoyed dessert. Megumi even sat in front of the large tree, watching the lights twinkle and the ornaments reflect the glow almost magically, thinking he’d never had a Christmas like this in his life.

From a few steps away, Satoru watched him. The child’s small figure contrasted with the tree’s grandeur, making him look even smaller than he really was—making Satoru want to protect him even more.

Midnight arrived. Megumi stood on the balcony, gazing at the starry night, hoping to catch Santa in his sleigh with his reindeer.

He was ready to capture him, force him to talk, and finally reveal the location of his treasure trove of gifts. And to give him a piece of his mind about all the previous Christmases when he hadn’t received any presents.

Satoru wasn’t with him; he’d excused himself, claiming he’d had too much spicy sauce with dinner—which wasn’t untrue—and needed to use the bathroom. But in reality, he was pulling out a red bag and taking out a big Santa costume.

In moments like these, as he hurriedly put on the outfit and stuffed a pillow under the shirt to create a big belly, he thought it was good to be albino. Why? Because it made him the perfect Santa Claus. All he needed was the beard and the iconic hat to complete the look.

“How sexy am I, for heaven’s sake,” he praised himself, quickly glancing in the mirror, holding the fake belly and acting like Santa. “Even with this cookie-addict belly... I’m irresistible.”

And so, he emerged, dressed in full costume and carrying a sack of presents, making loud footsteps so Megumi would turn around. “Ho! Ho! Ho!” he exclaimed, rubbing his big belly and heading towards the plate of cookies they’d purposely left out.

He heard a small gasp of excitement from the balcony, followed by hurried footsteps towards him. Megumi was... stunned. All his plans for revenge vanished in an instant, replaced by an overwhelming urge to cry and break down right there.

Clasping his little hands in front of him, he looked at Santa with sadness, hurt, and loneliness. His eyes glistened, and he bit his lower lip to stop himself from sobbing.

And that broke Satoru completely. He’d never seen Megumi so vulnerable.

“Are you Megumi Fushiguro?” he continued in character, crouching slightly to pat the boy’s head. “You’re lucky. Many children try to see me on such a special night. But only you’ve managed it...”

Megumi approached him with the innocence of a child his age, clutching the red fabric of his costume and giving him a tight hug, burying his tearful face into the fluffy suit.

Satoru hugged him back, growing increasingly concerned. His Santa façade was slipping away. He patted the boy’s back, staying still as he felt his tears soak the costume. “Hey, what’s wrong? Were those cookies not for me?”

“Thank you for coming this time, Santa,” Megumi murmured, wiping his tears with his fingers and looking up with a faint smile. “Or should I say... Satoru?”

And at that moment, Gojo froze, going stiff as a board as Megumi began pulling off the hat and then the fake beard, quickly exposing his face. “How...?”

“Only you could come up with something as ridiculous as dressing up as Santa for Christmas,” the boy replied, his smile unwavering.

Megumi was smiling. He’d done it. He’d made him smile.

Satoru grinned slightly, setting the gift sack aside and dramatically pulling out the pillows from his costume.

“Were the pillows necessary?” Megumi asked, his usual sarcastic tone re-emerging slightly.

“They were part of the character. It was necessary, and I looked sexy. No one can deny that.”

“Was all this necessary?” the boy asked, still not pulling away. He even snuggled closer into Satoru’s arms, sighing, feeling vulnerable and tired.

In that moment, Satoru lifted him effortlessly, carrying him as if he weighed nothing. Megumi buried his face in his neck, and Satoru began walking towards his room.

“Yes, it was necessary. It was just for you,” he replied, giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead. “Now it’s time for bed, Megumi-chan. When the sun rises, we’ll open the presents.”

As he turned to leave, the boy’s small hand gripped the sleeve of his red costume, holding him back. “Thank you,” he said sincerely.

Satoru smiled and waved his hand as if it was nothing, his characteristic arrogance and white hair adding his usual flair. “Don’t mention it. Besides, you caught me...”

But Megumi interrupted, shaking his head. “It’s the best Christmas gift I’ve ever had in my life...”

Satoru was silent for a moment, unsure of how to respond. His heart felt strange, as if it had shrunk or flipped. And that unmistakable tightness in his throat... He knew that if he stayed any longer, he’d likely burst into tears.

“Thank you, ‘Santoru’ Gojo,” Megumi teased, smiling again and loosening his grip on Satoru’s sleeve. “You’re the best Santa ever.”

“And you’re the best kid ever,” Satoru replied as he slowly closed the door, tears welling up in his eyes.

Megumi turned over in bed, facing away with his eyes shut, too tired to open them again. “I love you...”

A single tear rolled down Satoru Gojo’s cheek as he whispered, “I love you so much more, my Megumi. Always and forever.”

Always and forever.

Nothing would ever change that.

[georgeweasleyslostearhq]

Hiii! Can I get the 18th of the list with Billy Knight? NSFW. One where as they're at it, Billy disassociates for a second and it's because he's thinking about how he hasn't had an episode ever since he has been with her and he's thinking about having a baby. She noticed and when she asked him what was wrong, he was reluctant to say it but did it, and they both started trying. (Breeding kink at its finest)

Billy!! My love. Of course. im sorry this too so long.

Prompt 18: "looks like you're going on the naughty list"

YOU MAKE ME HAPPY

Pairings: Billy Knight! x fem! Summary: ^^^ Warnings: mentions of smut. (p in v) babies, breeding kink

--------------------

the squeak of bed frame underneath you echo in the room as Billy's small grunts and whimpers fill your ears.

one hand by your head to lift him up, although he's still practically laying on top of you, all his weight pressing on your frame underneath him as he rocks in and out of you.

he's usually a gentle lover. but sometimes he could get worked up in the moment of pleasure, him feeling so good that he would pick up the pace, not that you complained.

but with his neck stuffed in your neck as he thrusted, your soft moans in his ear makes him feel so comfortable against you, which gets him thinking

with your eyes closed, you whined at the slowing of his movemets, coming to a stop

you frowned and opened your eyes, finding him deep in thought above you as he leaned up, making you confused

"a-are you ok? I didn't feel you cum, baby, are you alright?" you asked him softly, leaning up on your elbows

he looked at you, a slight frown on his face as he blushed.

"I can go top if you can't do anymore"

he shook his head "no- It's fine"

"What's on your mind then, honey?" you reached out a hand, grazing your fingers against his knee, tracing delicate shapes to his skin as you waited for his response

"Well I-" he stops for a second, not knowing if he should tell you, but the way you look laying down, naked, makes him want to picture you with a perfect little baby bump attached to your belly, oh how you'd look so beautiful carrying his child, it's a major step, he knows, but all he wants i a little baby to hold that looked like the perfect mix of him and you.

a cute little button nose with big eyes. you'd be an amzing mother, and he's sure he'd make a fine dad.

and he guesses it's just the holidays that's gotten him in this family feeling, seeing all these matching pj sets for a family,

he never got to have that, not with his family, but he's noticed that he's been doing it with you, so why not make the full set and bring a baby to the mix, right?

you've already done so much for him, right in this moment he's realised that when he met you, he hasn't had a single episode, if you don't count the one where he met you-

he was crying, curled in a ball, harsly rubbing and scratching at his face, leaning against a wall of a store.

in any other circumstances, you would have thought it was just someone on drugs and stayed clear of them, but the blood shining from the street light made you concerned. so you approached him. after some yelling on his end, you ended up helping him. and he's never had another one since.

he's 2 years free of all that terror after getting some help from you, and how how he loves you for it.

"I want to... I think I want a- baby" he stammered, scared of your reaction

"a baby?" you tilted your head, eyes widened at his words in surprise

"I just- I love you. so much, and you make me happy. you're the only person I want to spend my life with so why not? just imaine a little us running around" he blushed, fidgeting. he'll never not be fidgety, but you don't mind

you cleared your throat "I mean- shouldn't we be married first?"

"We can get married" he nods his head vigorously

"Bil- honey.." you sigh, deep in thought

"why not? I know I want to marry you, so why not start our family. so what if we're a little early, a lot of people have kids before marraige" he shrugged

he looked so vulnerable in this moment, so cute and happy, his big eyes full of hope as he looks at you excitedly

a few strands of his hair fall to his face and you catch it, tucking it behind his ear as he shuffles forward, laying above you, propped up his knee and hand he's placed by your right side, going face to face with you

"I guess you're right...I wouldn't rather spend my life with anyone else. but- I mean, are you sure?" you asked him, trying to come up with a bad idea not to have a baby, but none come to mind.

"only if you want to" he mumbled, his thumb grazing your bare side, sending shivers over your body

"I don't see why we can't try" you smile up at him, seeing the joy light up in his eyes

"you make me so happy" he beams, leaving soft kisses over your cheeks.

"you make me happy too, honey" you stroke his cheek, planting a kiss to his soft lips "so happy"

"so you wanna try?" he said happily

you nod "lets try for a baby"

he leaves a trail of kisses down your jaw and neck, sucking on you soft skin of your breasts, he leaned up and rolled off the condom, throwing it in the bin by your nightstand before positioning himself

"a-are you sure?" he made sure you wanted this after he positioned to your aching core.

"I'm sure, Billy" you nodded

he mumbled a quick 'okay' before pushing into you

his thrusts are slow, trying to pick up where he left off as he stares at your belly, picturing a baby bump so cute it almost makes him melt, but instead it gives him the confidence he needs, picking up his pace as he placing a hand to your inner thigh, giving it a good squeeze, knowing you want this too makes him feel so happy

your moans and whines encourage him just enough for him to start speaking

he's never been the best at dirty talk, he's always been too awkward, not knowing what to say. you've never told him that though, mostly because you find it cute, but because he's just too precious to upset.

and you know that he'll think of it as you think he's not good enough as pleasing you, when that certainly isn't true

so when he whimpers in your ear, the perfect sound of a gutterual grunt and a high-pitched moan, the soft words of "so beautiful, you'd look even prettier carrying my baby" you grew a little surpirsed.

it wasn't anything special, but nothing he's said before

you snaked your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, wrapping your legs around his hips as you grinded yours with his thrusts

"is that what you want? f'me to fill you up so good you'll have my babies inside you? you want that?" he grunted.

you panted, nodding your head as your eyes closed shut, the feeling of him hitting all the right places sending a wave of pleasure through the course of your body.

you moaned his name with a stutter as you felt him go deeper, his thrusts growing harder and faster- probably more than he's ever gone without you having to ask

you roll your eyes back, liking the way he's finally found a little confidence in himself.

he reaches his hand out, rubbing over your thigh and up to your tummy, pressing a little weight on it "you want a baby in here, don't you? that's right, let me hear how bad you want it"

you hold the back of his head, gripping on his hair, not enough to caue pain because you couldn't bring yourself to do that.

you squeaked as he placed a trail of wet kisses along the length of your neck, licking and sucking harshly, leaving the prettiest of marks on you

"I- I want it.. please.. Billy oh. please!" you cried out, the squelching sounds of him almost poundin into you filled your ears as the bed creaking under your weight ringing i the room

"Thats right. beg for it. beg for my kids, Baby. just like that" he breathed into your neck, his hand going up to cup your breast, giving it a delicious squeeze before grunting in your ear

when you don't respond he tuts

"looks like you're going on the naughty list, Honey, i said beg for it"

"please! Billy. I-I'm sorry. I want your kids.. g- give me all- of- them!" you whined out, feeling the rugged and harsh pumps of his hard sock slamming into you, completely blinded by his pleasure and want to start a family

"that's it, keep begging for me to fill you up" he grunts

"Billy- I- I'm gonna- fill me up, please! I'm gonna-"

"cum for me, Honey.. I'm so close" he mumbled

his thrusts become sloppy and desperate as you feel the knot tighten in your stomach and you let a delicious orgasm wash over you

Billy can feel his own climax on the edge as you moan his name so nicely. Making his cock twitch in pleasure as he slows his movements, focusing on the feeling of your slick folds swallowing his dick whole.

"'M gonna fill you up, that what you want?" He asked

You whine, feeling your aching pussy become overstimulated as he keeps thrusting into you

"Gonna fill you up, honey. I'm so close. I'm gonna cum for you, honey.. you're so good f'me, gonna have to tell Santa to put you on the nice list"

You pant out a giggle and hear his groans and whines get closer together and more aspirated, signiling that he's close

All he does is need to picture you eith a pregnant belly, knowing it's his baby inside you to push him over the edge. Moaning your name as you feel his hot seed fill your inner walls white

You hum at the sensation, not having felt him raw inside you before.

He pants as he pulls out of you, flopping by your side as he catches your breath

"I didn't hurt you, did I? I was a but rough. I'm sorry" he swallowed thickly, showing his sensitive and compassionate side once again, the man you love showing himself

You rolled into your side and brushed a strand of hair out of his face

"It didnt hurt, honey, I liked it..." you smiled, watching him look at you softly, he turned to face you, snaking an arm around your waist

He snuggled into you. Mumbling sweet nothings

"I love you"

You yawn "I love you more, baby.."

-------------------------------------------

[oscconfessions]

i actually need marker tpot so bad, it's unhealthy. i lick actual purple markers because i want him so bad. i need to drink his ink. i think of him night and day, i fall asleep holding my marker plush & cuddle him and love him and my 20+ pictures of him watch me sleep every night and i cry when i remember hes not real. i never make any sorts of paper crafts, but i still have one i made of him from like two years ago and i still cherish it. i wake up every morning & think "what a wonderful day to love marker!" i start the day thinking of him. in school when someone says marker i whip around and say "where!" i talk to my parents about him. i have a 10 page document on my notes app of my ideas about him + tons of x oc oneshots and i draw him so much and i giggle when i see purple and white and when my therapist asked me to draw a symbol representing love in my eyes i drew a purple circle with a ring around it and i have so much lore for him and his family in my headcanons and he is my phone wallpaper and my tablet wallpaper and i would make him my actual room's wallpaper but i'd nave to take down all my pictures of him. he is my lover and we are happily married and we kiss everyday. he is like the sun to me, just as warm and radiant and beautiful and he gives me as much life. marker is my hope, my joy, my heart, my soul, my live, my laugh, my love, my blood, my sweat, my tears, my everything. my reason to live. my one true love. no one will ever take him away from me. he's mine forever and ever. the reason why i get sleep, why i eat, why i do everything. he is my life. marker tpot is my life. i am marker's number one fan, wife, and girlfriend. it is me, it always has been me, and it always will be me. me and no one else. no one else. no one else. no one else. i am marker's one and only, and he is mine too.

~ sincerely, the purple ink drinker, sunny.

.

[blahaj-blastin]

I am going to try and put this in as few words as possible, because my roommate and I spent an hour talking about this today; but there is truly nothing more incredible to me than human creativity.

Like, you’re telling me someone made this? You’re telling me this art came from someone’s own hand? You’re telling me this story came from someone’s mind? You’re telling me that someone as flawed and mortal and lost as me made this?

There is a beauty in math and in science, I am not here to argue that. But mathematics existed long before us. Science will exist long after us. And while the knowledge we have is a wonder, it is not ours. We did not make one and one equal two, we only learned and accepted that it did.

But our art is not universal. Our music was born through us. Our writing will die with us. And there is so much more beauty in knowing that we have made something. People have language and culture and poetry not because it was fact, but by our own whim and design.

This is something AI can never fulfill. An algorithm cannot create, it can only compile. A computer generated image has no link to us, to human emotion. To human flaw and struggle and passion.

Art is beautiful, and creation is the most powerful thing a person can do. Your stories, your art, hell, your fanfic and original characters, they exist not because of universal laws of math and physics, but because of your mind and skill; and if that isn’t the most amazing thing in the world, then what is?

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

I've been reading Exodus lately and I've just gotten to the portions where God gives the first commands to the people via Moses (twice), and then goes on to give detailed instructions about the tabernacle and how it should be built, and I'm just... we think art is unimportant?? we think things only mean as much as their functionality?? we so easily fall into the trap of believing that beauty means nothing, that it's cheap and only worth whatever mindless distraction it brings, that it's barely more than a cheap sensual thrill, that buildings should just be practical and plain and cheap, that everything should be functional but ultimately disposable, that paintings and dresses and mugs and curtains and carpets are just pretty but have no real value, that beauty is fleeting and vain and therefore shouldn't be thought about too much, if even looked for at all... we fall into these traps so easily, and we forget that there are chapters upon chapters of painstakingly detailed plans to build one portable worship tent, and those plans have been handed down through thousands of years of human history, because beauty and art and skill in craft is important