#especially when it comes to this kind of stuff

[egophiliac]

Hi there! I really love your comics and how expressive they are. How do you go about making the characters in your comic so expressive?

thank you! 💚💜💚 I am REALLY bad at explaining things, so my apologies if this doesn't make a lot of sense, but maybe there's something helpful in here somewhere. :')

1. warm up! drawing is a physical activity, after all! so if I'm planning on sitting down and drawing for a while, I usually start off by taking a couple of minutes to doodle a bunch of circles and lines and random shapes, just to get my drawing arm goin' again and get back into the physical groove. just stuff like this:

and just do that for however long you feel like! you can kind of feel when your arm starts to loosen up and your strokes get more confident. it makes it a lot easier to get those swoopy big lines and gestures!

2. play around with how you use your lines! paying attention to the shapes that they're making will change a lot about how much force and life your drawing feels like it has. (no way is better than another, it just depends on what effect you're going for and how it looks as part of the larger whole.)

and you can also use lines against each other to get different vibes:

it's not really a matter of "you need to make sure all your lines are always doing this all the time", it's more like...being aware of it, and getting that into the general thrust of a pose, if that makes sense? like a lot of smaller lines of action, beyond the big one that goes through the spine.

(just gonna use my own art as examples, apologies)

if you have a good foundation of tension, then all of the little bumps and contours of a character's details won't get in the way of it, and it'll still come through.

and don't forget about negative space either! the spaces between things have their own interesting shapes too!

I don't mean this to come off as, like, all these extra things that you need to be constantly thinking about and stressing over. more like...just try different stuff and then see how it works and how it changes the feeling! if you find a good shape, see if you can exaggerate it and make it more interesting, and how that affects things! angles and shapes are a LOT of fun to experiment and mess around with, especially when you're going more cartoony. :D

3. acting!

just...spending a little time to think about what the characters are actually doing! (aka the "figuring out what everyone is doing with their hands" bit.) this is more a personal preference, but especially in multi-panel comics, I like to have them be in the middle of doing stuff. not just big actions, but smaller things -- like even just how they're sitting or standing -- so that it feels like we're looking in on the middle of a scene, instead of a couple of characters just standing around neutrally and staring straight ahead while talking at each other.

this probably sounds really obvious, but it is one of the most fun parts for me! I love trying to find some little action or something that they can be involved in, especially if it's relevant to their character or adds an extra joke. (for some reason this usually involves me being mean to Sebek) (I'm sorry)

it doesn't need to be everyone Always! Doing! Something! all the time, especially if starts becoming distracting (sometimes they do actually need to just be standing around neutrally and staring straight ahead, especially if there's a bigger action going on that you want the audience to focus on instead). but even just figuring out some kind of non-neutral pose for them to be in can add a lot and make it feel less generic!

3. thumbnailing!

this is, again, very much a personal preference; unfortunately, every artist really is different, and we all have different processes that work better for us. so I can only speak to my personal experience! but I find what helps is to start REALLY rough -- not so much as in messy, as in not trying to start right into actually drawing everything out. like, literally just starting with stick figures and :O faces.

it probably doesn't sound relevant when talking about Drawing Expressively, but I find it's really, really helpful to have already figured out what everyone should be doing (acting!) and what the overall general layout and flow of things should be, before getting into the actual meat of drawing the characters. like having a sketch for the sketch!

(good compositional flow is something I struggle with, and text layout especially, so this stage also helps a LOT with making sure things are fitting where I want them and staying consistent/not breaking screen direction/etc.)

then after that, I can go ahead and focus on getting those Shapes and Lines and Angles and all that, without having to think too much about the layout or where things should go!

(of course, the downside of that is that my thumbnails are usually way better than my actual drawings, alas alas.)

4. this is more philosophical, but...give yourself some slack. the stress of Making Things Look Good is, ironically, often the biggest problem. (see: thumbnails looking better than the actual drawings.) so...let yourself draw shittier and without regards to accuracy. make things just for yourself without thinking about posting or showing them to anyone else. draw stupid faces and wrong proportions because they feel better that way. focus on what's fun and not on getting a perfect end result. "draw expressively, not well", as they say -- you can always tighten up things like proportions and details later, if you really want to.

that's all WAY easier said than done -- god knows I haven't really managed it -- but even just aiming for that attitude really, REALLY helps. if your lines are confident, they'll look a lot more alive and expressive than lines that are exactly technically precise but have no rhythm in them. (this is why tracing photographs tends to look so weirdly stiff and unrealistic, by the way -- even if you're drawing realistically, you usually need to exaggerate and stylize a little bit so it doesn't look lifeless.) it's a balance between caring about what you draw, but also being willing to let things go a little bit.

↑ I hope some of this helps! I don't know if any of this was actually what you had in mind, let alone much of it actually made sense outside of my head. :') but hopefully you (or other people) will be able to get something out of it!

#art #twisted wonderland #(not really related but since that's what the examples are) #i'm so sorry most of my art advice boils down to 'SHAPES ARE FUN' #(they are though)

[solar-wing]

⚣ Dick Grayson: NSFW Alphabet 🔵

⚣🔵 Words → 3.5k

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💙

⚣ ENJOY 🔵

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Caring and attentive. In other words, cling as hell.

It’s amazing how someone who was just fucking you like an absolute slut could turn into the world’s most innocent and soft boy in existence. When you think about it, it’s actually a little bit disturbing as well.

But, I digress. Dick will absolutely pick you up and carry you into the shower or whatever you desire. He’s also perfectly fine with lying in the mess. He doesn’t care as long as he gets to cuddle you right after.

He will have an overwhelming smug attitude though, especially if the sex was preceded by an argument, disagreement, or the acrobat just wanted to teach you a lesson. He can be a little shit when he wants to be.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I feel like we all know the answer to this one.

Dick’s butt is praised so much, that you already know he puts extra time and care into making sure it stays nice, right, and tight. He not so secretly loves when you play with it as well, whether it’s a light slap or pressing up against him even though he’s always the top. Notable mentions: His chest, abs, and thighs.

If you assumed his favorite body part on you was your ass, you’d guess right. Congratulations! You win nothing except a hard and playful smack on said ass from the acrobat. You’re welcome! Honorable mentions: Your waist, thighs, and chest. His weakness is any kind of jiggle and he is not ashamed or afraid of getting caught staring.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He may not play basketball but he’s a shooter (kill me). He can pretty much cover you anywhere or reach your furthest depths inside (careful if it’s M-Preg or he’ll definitely be the father).

He’s equal with where he likes to cum. He likes to sum on your face, chest, and body just as much as he loves to shoot down your throat and inside your hole. And the filthy little acrobat will definitely lick your cum off his hand after stroking you to your own finish. Let’s be clear now, this man has no shame.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Dick’s got a body count. Not as high as Bruce’s maybe but it’s up there. He can play innocent all he wants, but that man can and will get down when he’s feeling it.

Which, speaking of, he has definitely used Nightwing to land him some ass. No, I will not be taking questions.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Again, he doesn’t exactly have the title of a playboy like his adoptive father, but Dick’s been around the block. So he definitely knows a thing or two when it comes to the down and dirty.

Even if you are experienced yourself, I can guarantee Dick knows some tricks you don’t know which will have you, well…let’s save that for the bedroom, shall we?

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Face down, ass up, and no that was not a suggestion. Dick absolutely favors any position where your ass is bouncing in his face. Doggy, reverse cowgirl, spooning, standing behind, anything.

He also loves a good 69 moment and enjoys the missionary positions where he can really put in some power while inside you. You on the bed and him standing, countertop, or a stand-carry.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

If you know Dick’s personality, while the boy can be an absolute menace in the bedroom, he’s still a goofball at heart. Also, known for his witty banter, you can expect some wild stuff to come out that man’s mouth while he’s cumming to yours (tee hee).

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Dick is definitely well-groomed. He used to be a performer so he always took extreme care of his appearance. Keeps himself shaven and clean-cut, which definitely makes him appear bigger, as well as keeping those areas down there fresh and ready for any kind of play.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Dick is a romantic at heart. As much as he can be a little dominant shit in the bedroom, he’s always down for some soft love and intimate moments.

Candles, roses, food, massages with kisses down your body, maybe a little romantic dance before you get sweaty. You name it, Dick’s already thought of it and is thinking of more. Just as much as he wants to please you sexually, intimacy and romance never is off the table.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Dick is probably the most sexually active just behind Bruce, so you can definitely imagine that boy is no stranger to an evening alone with just him and his hand. Just as much as he knows how to please others, he knows how to please himself.

He knows when he’s in the mood to drag it out and edge himself while imagining or watching some slow, soft dirty dancing, and he knows when he’s frustrated and just needs to rub one out to get the edge off a little bit. Again, you won’t find many things in that realm that Dick has not either already tried or even just learned about.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Role-Playing: Once again, I bring up the fact that Dick is a retired performer. You know he’s one for the dramatics and theatrics, especially when it comes to sex. Whether it’s Nightwing coming to the rescue of some helpless dude, or instead that same person being abducted and forced to serve Nightwing to earn his freedom, nothing is off the table. And yes, as I just implied, that included CNC (Consensual-Non-Consensual). He’d never push you too far (unless variable circumstances apply), but he’s down to play any role. He’s the cop and you’re the guilty criminal he’s just arrested. You’re his student and desperately need a passing grade to graduate.

BDSM: He’s not too much into the lifestyle, but he definitely dabbles. He likes certain aspects of it, specifically the bondage, Dom/Sub roles, and getting to inflict punishments (his favorite being spanking cause it means he gets to play with your ass more). This also helps a lot with this abducted, helpless victim role-play when he gets to pull out the cuffs, rope, blindfolds, gags, and whatever else he’s got lying around. And he’s not opposed to the roles being reversed.

Dirty Talk: The guy is all about using his words remember. Self-explanatory.

Public Play (Exhibitionism): Dick’s not a sex addict, but he might as well be one with the way that man will drop his pants without a second thought, no matter where he is. Of course, he’s not just going to outright start doing it in front of others, but the thrill of pulling you into a dark corner, alleyway, restroom and the risk of you getting caught will always get him excited. Double points if you actually do get caught, because again, this man has no shame.

Honorable Mentions: Edge Play (choking/breath play), Impact Play (sub of BDSM, spanking, paddling, etc), Wrestling, Daddy kink, Mirror Sex, etc.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

As we just went over, public places really get Dick going. Especially if he’s out as Nightwing and wants to pull you into a random alley or bring you to some high-up rooftop, he will happily christen a surface that is not within the confines of his own house or private dwelling, and he won’t feel bad about it.

Other specific places?

The shower, any counter or table surface, the Batmobile, his motorbike, literally anywhere in his apartment, etc.

He really has no reservations about where he does it, as long as he can get up in you, he’s content.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

#1 – He’s a horny bastard: Again, he’s not a sex addict, but he sure has the sex drive of one. It doesn’t take much to get him turned on. A casual, suggestive sentence, the way your shorts are really highlighting your work in the gym, how you're sucking on the straw while sipping your drink, or even when you’re just standing or sitting doing nothing, that man will get hard and he will pounce on you.

#2 – Domestic Actions/Life: This is something I forgot to mention with Jason so I’ll mention it here because I’m definitely head-canoning that they both share this in common. Any kind of domestic act. You cook him dinner when he comes home or pack his lunch before he heads out for the day. Helping clean up his house or doing his laundry and folding his clothes. Running him a bath, washing his hair, giving him a massage after a hard day or night. Waiting up for him in bed after patrol and patting the space once he changes out of his uniform, laying down and letting him vent about anything on his mind while you rub his body or head. All of it and more will definitely have him up and ready for fun.

#3 – Jealousy: Now, you may think I mean when someone flirts with you and he gets all macho and protective, rah rah rah. Nope, not at all (unless we’re talking Alpha Dick in Omegaverse. Then, that’s different because, by the rule, it’s a part of his biology to be). Dick is actually quite casual and will find it humorous when someone tries to even think about flirting with you in hopes of stealing you away from him. He knows his worth, and even more, he knows how good his dick is. He’s not worried. But, when it’s the opposite, and someone flirts with him because again, this man is literally one of the most attractive beings probably in the entire world, he absolutely will be turned on at the sight of you staking your claim on him, chasing off any hag dared flirt with him in front of you.

Honorable Mentions: Arguing/Make-Up Sex, Clothing, exercising, any kind of physical touch.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Nothing that could involve serious injury or blood. Also, nothing even remotely unsanitary. I mean scat/throw-up/piss.

Also, he may be into very public displays of affection but do not get it twisted one bit. Dick is not into any type of sharing. He’s a sweetie at heart, but don’t piss him off with that ridiculous idea.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Dick is the goat of throat. Yeah, I said it…what you gon do? Beat my ass or something?

Just kidding, but no seriously, this man has a reputation known among his sexual partners for the danger to society that is his mouth, and not when it’s giving off a witty/sarcastic remark. He’s been known to drive some people to the brink of insanity, metaphorically speaking of course. But, then again, you never know with these people.

He loves to receive head and loves to give it even more. Especially when he gets to play with your balls and deny your orgasm every time you reach the edge, the little bastard. Same can be said if he’s munching on that hole too, which he eagerly does cause the sight of it puckering and winking at him sends all the little happy flutters to his own groin.

Now, if we’re talking again about receiving, and you think you’re gonna have him putty in your hand like he does with you, think again. This man is the definition of a seasoned veteran. There’s only been one known time he’s ever gotten overwhelmed and came from just head, and that was when he was a teenager. If you’re hoping to do that now, you’d better have expert-level skills, cause he will test you. Facefucking, choking and gagging, and whatever else that comes to mind.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the mood.

High off adrenaline after an intense patrol or fight? Congratulations, you’re about to be his next victim. You got jealous and cussed out someone for trying to flirt with him? Prepare to learn a whole new meaning of getting rough sex. Wore some 3 in shorts to the gym AND did a leg day? Gon head and bend that ass over, you’re about to experience why he’s called ‘Dick’ rather than ‘Rich’ or something else for a nickname. Please cancel any plans you have for that evening or the next day cause you may not be able to walk, stand, or even move for that manner.

On the opposite side, did you take his Nightwing suit and hand wash it, making it look like the day he first put it on? Sweet lord, you’re a treasure and he’s about to show you why. It’s your anniversary and you got him one of the most beautiful and sentimental gifts? You and your body are about to be treated like an award that he is the sole recipient of. You cussed out Bruce after he did something stupid and reckless again involving Dick or one of the others? Not only is Jason blessing the ground you walk on, Dick’s about to drop down on one knee and propose, and then proceed to treat your body like a slut in the most romantic and sensual way you could ever imagine. As a precaution, still, go ahead and cancel any future plans just in case.

Dick truly has no preference other than whatever he’s feeling at the moment. Long, deep strokes, or quick, fast juts? Whatever gets the job done and reminds you there’s nobody better than him is good in his book.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Dick loves quickies. As chaotic and busy as his life is, he practically lives off them and craves them.

Again, this man should have his headshot in the dictionary next to ‘horny’ or promiscuous. Cause if it was up to him? He’d be screwing you once every 2 hours at least. Whether it’s a quick handjob he’s giving you, or he’s got both your pants down while rapidly fucking into you cause he’s only got five minutes before he has to get back, he’s doing it.

The man thinks they should be protected and enshrined into law. That’s how much he loves them.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’ll try anything and everything under the sun and moon as long as it’s not one of his already-mentioned no-no’s. If it adds excitement to the routine, why not? You never know with that man.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Very adamant stamina. His plentiful experiences have shaped it, and his physical training and endurance have added to it.

That man can do multiple rounds in a night, ranging anywhere from 3-5, and maybe even more if just that kind of night. He also knows his body, and can/will do what he needs to do to drag one round out for as long as he can until not only is he satisfied himself, but he feels he’s adequately satisfied you. And to be clear, you have absolutely no say on whether he feels like he’s satisfied you or not.

So please, get used to the idea of being overstimulated and crying at the 3rd or 4th orgasm he gives you before he’s even had one. It’ll save you a lot of frustration (not really but you get what I mean).

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Dick, who again, will and has tried everything under the moon and sun. Of course, he has toys. What do you think this is? A playground? Please…

And trust, he’s going to get more. He’s probably signed up on a loyalty program with a sex store or website, and best believe he’s got diamond status.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A prayer for the innocent soul who unknowingly awakens the playful, petty, and vindictive part of Dick Grayson’s personality, especially when it comes to sex. May god, the universe, karma, whatever else have mercy on your soul and may the odds ever be in your favor.

There’s a reason I call Dick Grayson a little shit, bastard, fucker, and other various names because that is literally what he is, and I love him the more for it. He doesn’t get angry, upset, or even mad (unless it’s something serious). No, he gets petty, and that turns into him being the most teasing piece of shit in the bedroom, especially if you’ve challenged him in some kind of way.

Orgasm denial, forcing you to be quiet and stay still, sensory overload, multiple orgasms, and overstimulation; all this and he hasn’t even put his tongue on you yet, let alone his dick anywhere near you. That man is vindictive and will play on it until his heart’s content. Please, tread carefully when choosing whether or not you want to fuck with this man, especially if he’s in a mood.

Matter of fact, just run. Actually, don’t do that either. He likes the chase. FUCK! You’re screwed no matter what (metaphorically AND literally).

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Dick gets loud. And he wants you to get equally as loud with him.

He’s not afraid to let out the sluttiest sounds, from soft and quiet moans to loud and debauched shouts from the top of his lungs. He can be quiet if need be, but he’d rather not. He enjoys the idea of people knowing he’s getting lucky and, even more, the idea of people knowing you’re getting lucky from him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

That man has an obsession with doing it in his Nightwing suit. You think he picked that style and aesthetic for something as useless as flexibility, quick movement, and durability? Absolutely not. 

Dick absolutely knew what he was doing when he had his suit designed. He wanted to look like a slut and nothing more, and that's okay! I mean, come on, you think his ass looking that good in his uniform was a coincidence? A mistake? How innocent and naive of you.

Everyone should have known Dick’s true intentions when they saw how sinfully deep the cut was in his first suit that we all know and love as Discowing. That man fully intended for his suit to be something he could fuck up and fuck dudes in while looking hot. It was non-negotiable.

Look at him.

Like, I'm sorry, but what the hell do you mean I’m not supposed to be turned on and have my legs divorcing like a whore who's being prosecuted in a court of law due to adulterous behavior with this standing in front of me? Are you unwell?!?!?

Yeah, respectfully no. I will forever headcanon that Dick Grayson knew exactly what he was doing when he had his suits designed, and it was the complete opposite of what everyone was saying.

“Dick is quick and agile."

"He’s lightweight on his feet."

"He needs a suit that will support and accentuate his acrobatic skills.”

Absolutely not. That man is (respectfully in an empowering context) a slut, on the inside and out, and he wanted a suit that would best show it to the world. I will not be gaslit into believing otherwise.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

What Dick lacks in girth, he makes up for in length and skill. He’s definitely not thin, but he's a little under-average when it comes to thickness. Somewhere between 6-7 inches.

More than likely cut, and has a voluptuous head that’s perfect for sucking on and teasing.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

We’ve discussed this in great length, multiple times. It’s self-explanatory at this point. The man is basically the human equivalent of a rabbit or bunny.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Dick can stay up long after the round has been up, especially if he’s in a mood where he wants to talk. Ironically, after fucking like some wild animals with the most questionable mindsets and morals, he loves to shoot the shit and have pillow talk after.

I don’t know how many times I have to say it, but Dick is basically a chatterbox and will ask you about your day, what you had for lunch, who pissed you off at work, and more while still buried inside of your ass with your dick pressed between both your stomachs. He’s also content with turning on the TV or whatever screen is available and watching a movie or something until you both fall asleep. Mind you, he’s probably still inside you and is going to try his best to stay inside even if he’s gone soft and keeps slipping out.

☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

#solar-wing ☀️ #gay #dc #dcu #dcau #dc universe #dc comics #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x male reader #x reader #x male reader #male reader #dick grayson #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson fic #dick grayson smut #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing #nightwing imagine #nightwing fanfiction #nightwing smut #nightwing x reader #nightwing x male reader #nightwing fic #m!reader #☀️🪽.hcs #☀️🪽.dcposts

[annakusminaa]

B4 n’ after/life update🌱

Hello my lovelies!! I wanna apologize for going M.I.A. Especially after once posting daily. Blah.

My life has just been like flopped upside down, complete 180. So my mom hasn’t mentioned my bod since being home these past few days. She mentioned it in like every damn sentence when she first picked me up. Jeeeeezus. even getting home and how she was “frightened.” But not only that.

I completely have extreme hunger and it’s put me in such a bad place mentally. Like bruh. “How did I end up in Canada? I hate *** Canada?” (Iykyk) it’s been hard because I went from staying to my cals for 2 months to this. GRRR. I was SOOOOO close to being under 100 lbs. and now I’m prob like 110. Which. In heinsight is low yeah. But what a FUMBLE on my part.

Half has been purposeful, because my plan was to eat regularly in front of the mother, and get back on my bs on Monday. It is now Tuesday and I am not back on my bs. ☹️🫠🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

I genuinely do plan to get back to where I was. I mean it’s been a liiiillll over a week of eating … a lot… I GOTTA get back on my fitness journey. So that’s a big reason why I haven’t been posting because I’m like fuuuuukkkk. I’m a mess. I’m not ur fun time anna k rn. also it’s gonna be super super hard bc my mom likes to make suppers for my bf and i, and now she herself has a bf. So she’s gon expect family dinners everynight. So that’s not fun. I gotta figure out how to tackle this situation frfr 💯

Anywho, this is a b4 and after of my lil journ. About 20-25lbs difference here. Tbh maybe it’s the dysmorphia but like. Idk. It’s not like some big wow crazy insane difference. Like my mom was being a liiiiil dramatic. But moms know best ig. 🤨🤔🤔

I think if I’m come back to posting daily it will be that 30 days questionnaire. Because I’m all gross and bloated rn and cannot be taking pics. So really bare with me guys. I could come back and lie on here but as the aspiring blogger I am ✨✨✨ I am fully honest about stuff and my hurdles. As I said it’s only been about a week of hardcore falling off the band wagon so realistically I can get back quickly to where I was I’m sure. Thank you for all the kind words these past stressful days. You all are amazing.

I ALSO GOT A NEW CAT. SO I’ve been busy too. 🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛🐈‍⬛

-ANNA K

#ed but not ed sheeran #light as a feather #th1nsp1ration #tw ana rant #thinspø #⭐️ ing motivation #4nor3xia #4norexla #b0dii chexx #b0dy check #b0dych3x #b0nespø #b0nespo #flat belly #b0n3sp0 #b0dy ch3ck #@n@ diary #@na motivation #@nor3×14 #@na vent #@na rules #@nor3xia #4n4t1ps #4n0rexic #4n4rexia #4n4blr #before and after #before n after #f00dspo #meanspø

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ good one | thomas hewitt x reader

♡ fandoms; Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003 + 2006)

♡ characters; Thomas Brown Hewitt

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; references to extreme violence, stockholm syndrome i suppose?, kidnapping

♡ notes; this was literally supposed to be porn but instead here’s some weird sappy stuff lol

anyways hopefully more fics soon, writers block and rehearsals have been a bitch and a half

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

It was a wonder you were still alive. That’s what you thought about, sitting and fidgeting in the strange bedroom with your ankle shackled. Was shackled the right word if it was tied with rope? Whatever. It didn’t matter. You were fairly certain you’d fall prey to the crazy folks running around the place soon enough. The group you’d hitched a ride with was already long gone- one you’d watched get shot point blank by the bullshit sheriff. The others….well, you heard the chainsaw and the screaming. It was an easy conclusion to come to, especially after you saw the bloody smears on the hardwood downstairs.

You weren’t sure why you hadn’t been hacked into bits yet. You’d been indistinguishable from the others- just another wandering twenty-something with tight clothes and next to no money. The only thing you could think of was that gas station. Your companions had been such dicks to the lady at the counter- of course you apologized to her. She’d been just as kind in return, she even snuck a candy into your bag of sodas and snacks. She was the one who’d sent you that way, towards the farm house.

You stilled, train of thought lost as you heard footsteps. Heavy and slow- they were somehow more intimidating than any angry stomping could have been. You curled your legs up defensively, eyes trained on the door. The person stood there more than a second, silent and just as still as you were holding. If you hadn’t been listening so intently, you would have thought they turned and walked away. But then there was some quiet mumbling- a woman’s voice, maybe?- and the door creaked open.

“Go on Tommy dear- I found a good one for you.”

You’d never seen a man so tall- with shoulders so broad or arms and torso so solid. He was massive. He was terrifying. And he was attractive. Once your eyes unglued themselves from his figure you finally took in the rest. Dark, thick shoulder-length waves. A mask that seemed useless as any sort of medical device thanks to the open mouth. Eyes that were dark but not brown. Maybe blue, maybe gray..maybe just pure black. Like a shark’s. In other circumstances you'd be reduced to a puddle on floor over him. But the bloodstains on his shirt didn’t go unnoticed.

You watched him closely, and he watched you just as alertly, stalking forward like some jungle cat…No. Wait. That wasn’t right. He didn’t look scared, but he was cautious, keeping some distance. Maybe a better allegory would be he looked like he was trying to corner a feral kitten- not wanting you to swipe or dart away. As if doing either was possible. You were frozen with fear, though found the courage to lean back a bit as he stepped forward. He grunted softly and persisted, nearly trembling as he brushed a strand of hair from your face.

Love at first sight was a stupid fucking concept. That you’d always believe. Maybe something in you just broke that same moment, maybe you were just too exhausted to think even close to straight. Maybe both. But when you and this massive man locked eyes, there was an instant understanding. He was already yours- and more importantly, you’d be his. He just had to stake his claim.

“…you’re Tommy?” You practically whispered. He nodded quickly. You got a sense he didn’t speak much, but you told him your name in return and tried to think of anything to talk about to stall the inevitable. “…you killed those people?” You blurted for some godforsaken reason. He tensed, still hovering over you. “It’s okay.” You added quickly “I didn’t actually know them. They were kinda mean.”

He furrowed his brow just a bit and searched your face, for any signs that you were lying. Before he came to a conclusion, you gave a soft sigh, instinctively leaning into the hand that had raised your face to him. Something immediately softened about him, and he rubbed your cheek in awe. The sleepy giggle it caused seemed almost to startle him. It was like no one had ever been that soft with him. Maybe they hadn’t. “….this is your room right? Can we sleep?”

Tommy still seemed in shock but carefully nodded, undoing his apron and seeming at a loss of what to do next. He frowned a bit as he noticed your bindings and quickly undid the knot that kept you stuck there. His guard was down- you could try to run. But you didn’t want to. Doing so would only be tiring. You wanted to let go. So instead you smiled softly and simply opened your arms, letting him cuddle up with you. It took him a minute to get settled, and all the while treating you so delicately… like you were made of glass. He looked up at you, again searching your face in near confusion. He grunted in surprise as you pecked his forehead. His mama really did find him a good one.

#slashers #slashers x reader #slashers x you #thomas hewitt #tcm #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas brown hewitt #tcm 2006 #tcm 2003 #texas chainsaw the beginning #texas chainsaw massacre #gender neutral reader #g/n reader

[cripplecharacters]

Hi there!

I'm working on a character for a story I'm writing, where all the people have wings. The main character is a burn survivor, and it rendered her left wing useless when it came to flying. However, I wanted to have her get a kind of reconstruction surgery or a wing prosthetic to help her fly again. I've read a number of your posts, so I'm considering reworking this, but I wanted to know your perspective on it.

Also, if you can, do you have any resources on burn survivors and daily burn scar care?

Thanks!

Hi!

I think that you have a couple options when it comes to making her fly again!

Making her able to fly the same as before could be disability erasure somewhat, so I would warn against that. But that doesn't mean she can't fly at all!

If you decide to make her fly again;

It will take time. She shouldn't be able to relearn mobility in a week. Show it as a slow, time-consuming process. Depending on the exact injury it could be months or years.

Include physical therapy! Potentially other types as well, like occupational therapy. If it's a society where everyone has wings, I'm sure there would be specialists for this kind of stuff like we have for legs.

Recovery takes a lot of effort. It shouldn't come to her too easily. A lot of it is pain and fatigue and taking breaks to recover from recovering.

She might not be able to fly the exact same as before, even if you go with the above. You can have her fly shorter distances, have pain while doing it, or be fully unable to do it on some days.

When she does start to fly again, she could end up damaging her other wing via an overuse injury (her damaged wing wouldn't be able to keep up for at least a while). Recovery is a very non-linear process, and she could be coming back to physical therapy for new problems even after she relearns flying. That is a part of life for a lot of disabled people, for example manual wheelchair users having to do PT for shoulder strain injuries caused by pushing the wheelchair.

This way you can show the recovery process without erasing her disability at the end! Some disabled people do get better, but the point is to not make it a Magic Surgery that just fixes everything because that's not how it works most of the time. Sometimes it even opens up the doors to new problems - remember that both prosthetics and especially surgeries have very real complications.

For burn care, I recommend this post I made!

I hope this helps!

mod Sasza

#mod sasza #liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiily #burn survivor representation #fantasy disabilities #fantasy species #acquired disability #cure trope

[anathemaspeaks]

pas de deux

character(s): toji fushiguro synopsis: [ˌpɑː də ˈdəː] a dance for two people, typically a man and a woman. word count: 1k warning(s): none (so much fluff i promise it's worth the read) a/n: i'm SO down bad for him HELP

check out my prompt list and request stuff!

likes, reblogs, and follows are appreciated <3

toji was not a romantic. the very idea made him scoff. the thought of getting soaked in the rain to meet someone was just absurd. what idiot would voluntarily fall sick for something as irrelevant as that. it baffled him, truly.

until he found himself standing at your door at four in the morning.

drenched to the bone, a strong arm raised to knock at your door. it took three tries, and you finally opened the door, hair tousled, eyes wide, and mouth agape.

you immediately ushered him inside, fretting over him. you gave him one of your largest hoodies (which still clung to his frame like a compression shirt), and a pair of loose shorts. you turned up the heater and gave him a blanket, forcing him to relax while you handed him a cup of hot coffee.

"toji, what are you doing here? aren't you supposed to be asleep?" you inquired, worry etched onto your beautiful face and surprise evident in your voice.

"ya ain't getting rid of me that easy, doll" he replied while smirking, clearly trying to underplay his current state. he was still shivering from the cold, his wet hair clinging to his forehead.

you sat next to him on the sofa, moving closer and snaking your arms around his muscular torso, your warmth seeping into his cold body. you leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his jaw before snuggling closer, nestling into his broad chest.

he couldn't say he wasn't loving the attention, but that wasn't what he came here for.

you both were texting when you'd confessed that you weren't getting any sleep, and you were really stressed out as of late. you also revealed that the last time you had a comfortable sleep was with toji.

that was a whole week ago.

after that, he said he was going to sleep, ending the conversation with a 'goodnight doll, love ya.' you smiled at your phone before closing the message app, opting to scroll through instagram to keep your restless mind occupied - sleep was out of the question.

but of course toji was worried about his girl.

the concern gnawed at him. he couldn't stand the thought of you so helpless and distressed.

of course he couldn't - especially now that he knew he could help. he would rather die than see you in any kind of pain. and that's how he found himself soaked in the pouring rain, with only one goal in mind: to help you.

and now here he was, in your home, his strong arms finally wrapped around you.

"baby, i'm not complaining, but how come you're here?" you spoke, voice muffled because your face was squished against his body.

"y'said you only got sleep 'round me" he stated, as if it was the most obvious thing ever. your heart lurched at his words. he ran for ten minutes through a rainstorm...all for your sleep?

"toji...i- i'm so...thank you" you choked, getting emotional. the night did that to you sometimes. but you just loved him so much. toji sensed it and let out a chuckle, the sound reverberating in your chest. you could listen to that dumb laugh forever.

"you're getting soft, old man" you teased, a playful smile on your face. you didn't have that much of an age gap, but you never passed up the chance to bring it up.

he tutted. "y'want me to stay or not, brat?"

you giggled at his tone, burrowing deeper in the comfort of his presence, letting out a content sigh. from over his shoulder, you could see the sky clearing up, the rain slowly stopping. you saw it getting lighter, soft, golden rays striking toji's dangerously gorgeous face.

you looked at his lips, a content smile gracing his features, scar only emphasizing his already perfect looks. you trailed up to his eyes, warm, and filled with so much love and devotion it took your breath away. you could drown in them.

he couldn't stop staring at you, not when you looked this angelic. it was like the sunlight formed a literal halo over you - he was convinced you couldn't be real.

he looked into your eyes. the gears in your head were turning - he could see it. and then he saw a glint in your eyes.

"toji..."

"yeah, pretty girl?" he smiled, one that was so radiant it could put even the most magnificent sunrise to shame. your breath caught in your throat. he was so pretty.

...

"dance with me" you sighed, already pushing yourself up.

"it's 5 a.m., babe" he chuckled softly at your antics. you were always up to something.

"and? dance with me!" you demanded, taking both of his calloused hands into your own, trying to pull him up (and failing, miserably).

but he could never resist you. he wouldn't. you were his world. all you had to was ask, and toji would do it in a heartbeat. so he got up, buff arms enveloping you into his warmth once more.

"mmph- toji, needa play the music!" you said, voice obscured by his chest.

"we don't need music to dance, doll"

and so you stayed in his arms, his body gently rocking yours, moving to a beat only the both of you could hear. occasionally, he'd twirl you around, dipping you down to kiss you right after, just so he could hear your sweet laughs.

you don't know how long both of you danced for. you don't remember it, but you fell asleep in that very position. in his arms, while standing. you didn't even realize how exhausted you were.

you woke up in the safety of your bed, still trapped in his arms, light snores escaping him. he must've carried you here. he was definitely going to fall sick, but honestly? he couldn't bring himself to care.

he might catch a cold, but in that moment, all that mattered was the gentle rise and fall of your chest.

toji was not a romantic. but for you, he would get soaked in the rain a million times. for you, he would do anything to put a smile on your stunning face. for you, he would do anything.

i love him i love him i love him i love him

#anathema writes #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji smut #toji x reader #toji x you #fushiguro toji #fushiguro #toji zenin #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro x reader #jjk fushiguro #toji fushigro x reader #toji #fushiguro x y/n

[magiccath]

Weirdly specific headcanons Pt. 2 (Tenth Doctor x Reader)

a/n: finals fried my brain again, have some headcanons (new fics coming soon, I promise)

Says stuff like “2+2=5” with such confidence that you almost believe him

Secretly likes it when you and Donna call him “spaceman”

His favorite Earth snack is Goldfish (especially the colored ones)

Insufferable to watch movies with because he corrects everything

Traces words in circular Gallifreyan on your skin, usually on the back of your hand

Things like “I love you” and various nicknames he has for you

Often times when he fixes the TARDIS it doesn’t really need it, he just likes having something to do

Similarly, the TARDIS creates issues so he has to fix them

His love language is quality time, he just wants to be with you

Having you sit in the room while he fixes the TARDIS, showing you every single part of the universe, laying in bed on lazy days, etc

Needs constant reassurance and love

Cuddles too

Might not remember things like your birthday without reminders from the TARDIS

However, he knows exactly how you like your tea, your favorite color, and every single nervous tic you have

900+-year-old toddler 

Requires constant supervision or he will cause harm to himself and/or others

Is absolute rubbish at cooking. Something always ends up burnt 

Makes a mean cuppa though

He loves all kinds of cuddles but he really likes it when the two of you fall asleep spooning

Big fan of wrapping his entire body around you and tangling his limbs with yours

Also goes crazy for a good hug

Maybe his love language is also touch

He likes sitting on the floor for some reason, especially the TARDIS floor

Sits in chairs really weird too. Practically drapes himself across them with his long limbs sticking out and over the chair.

Has boundless amounts of energy. Is it a Time Lord thing or ADHD? We’ll never know (It’s both)

Knows enough random stuff to win Jepordy, but he would epically fail at it

Would correct every single answer and argue that he was right, not the answer sheet.

“Mount Rainier isn’t a volcano, fire aliens were just living under it.”

Loves ABBA and Queen. Can be often caught singing their songs to himself, especially when getting ready

Has a little troll doll collection in his room, among other strange 90s toys and random objects he likes

#10th doctor headcanons #tenth doctor headcanons #doctor who headcanon #tenth doctor #10th doctor #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor/reader #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor/reader #the doctor x reader #the doctor/reader #the doctor #donna noble #doctor who #david tennant #fanfic #doctor who fanfiction #fanfiction #headcanons #magiccath

[igotsnothing]

OC Deep Dive Questionnaire

Thank you for tagging me, @lynzishell! You are the best and I enjoyed reading about Atlas and Asher so much- their warmth and affection were so evident throughout the entire questionnaire! ❤️

For this I chose Sasha and Gideon. If anyone is interested in a different pair, I'd be glad to do it again!

Gideon: Oh, we’ve been invited to do a Deep Dive Questionnaire!

Sasha: No. It’s absurd.

Gideon: We were tagged by Asher and Atlas, though. They’re so nice!

Sasha:  Buuh…Fine.

-What common/uncommon fear do they have?

Gideon: Are you scared of anything, Sasha? You have to be one of the most fearless people I know. Who walks into a vampire coven meeting like you did? You are something else.

Sasha: When I was little, my mom took me to a petting zoo and bought me feeding pellets to give to the geese; they all kept crowding me and chasing me around this pond and I thought I was going to die.

Gideon: What did you do?

Sasha: I threw all the pellets at them and jumped into the pond.

Gideon: That’s actually very scary for a young child! Did your mother have to jump in after you?

Sasha: Nooo. The pond was pretty shallow.

Gideon...How old were you?

Sasha: Like 10.

Gideon: PFFFF!

Sasha: Shut up.

Gideon: You’re so dramatic.

Sasha: What about you?

Gideon: I fear... not ever having you by my side.

Sasha: [Turning red and burying his face in Gideon’s chest]

Do they have any pet peeves?

Gideon: Hmm...Probably people who are rude, especially in public. It’s not that hard to hold the door for people or say excuse me, or turn your blinker on before making a turn.

Sasha: OMG, when people sit down at a table and keep talking to each other and when I come over to take their order, they’re like, “Oh, I didn’t get a chance to look at the menu yet.” I’m like- there are FOUR things on the menu. Just order or I will choose your food for you!

Gideon: You also dislike bad tippers.

Sasha: If I get another religious tract as a tip, someone is going to be meeting their lord sooner than they expected.

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

Sasha: We bought a bunch of stuff recently! We got a sofa bed and a fridge... What's one more thing?

Gideon: What about Mrs. Kachky?

Sasha: She goes where I go. She’s the only thing I have left of my mom’s.

Gideon: I'm feeling a little jealous. I think she gets more cuddles than I do...

Sasha: Awww! I’ll let you cuddle her too.

Gideon: [Inhaling deeply] I’m throwing you back into that pond.

What do they notice first in a person?

Gideon: Appearances can be deceiving. I’m more interested in seeing how people treat those they perceive as being beneath them. People often behave badly when they have any kind of power.

Sasha: I was raised in the Spice District! You think we make eye contact with people while walking around here? You keep walking- mind your business.

Gideon: Let’s combine the next two questions because I think they’re related.

On a scale of 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance?  And -do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

Gideon: I was a soldier when I was mortal and as a vampire, I’ve endured my share of attempts on my unlife: I’ve been stabbed, beaten, and I’ve escaped more than one attempt to burn me into ashes. I assess a situation before fighting. I won’t necessarily run if the odds are stacked heavily against me, but I may try to explore an alternative. I’d say I have a high tolerance. A 9.

Sasha: Me too.

Gideon: [Squinting and shaking his head]

Sasha: Okay, but in my defense that comb snagged my hair really hard- I didn’t expect that. Let’s say a 7.

Gideon: Or a 4... It’s ironic, because you won’t run from a fight. Even if you know you’ll get beaten up. It’s very paradoxical.

Sasha: In Sparta, we die like men!

Gideon: [Rolls his eyes].

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

Gideon: My coven is my family, and it is a fairly large one. I think I’ve been somewhat absent and disconnected from them for a while now. I do miss that closeness we shared over the decades.

Sasha: Nope. It was my mom and my dad and me. After she died, I was pretty much on my own. My dad and I haven't spoken in years.

[Gideon reaches for his hand and clasps it tightly.]

Gideon: I'm always here for you, Sasha. You're not alone.

What animal represents them best?

Gideon: [Laughs]

Sasha: PASS!

What is a smell that they dislike?

Sasha: Depending on where you are walking in this city, every once in a while you’ll catch a whiff of weed that’s just skunky-ass bad. Or pee. Or trash water on the sidewalk.

Gideon: Garlic.

Have they broken any bones? if so, how?

Gideon: Oof...I’ve broken a few. I used to ride horses when I was a soldier and had my share of bad falls.

Sasha: I broke my arm falling off a jungle gym. I was in first or second grade. It wasn’t too bad. All my friends drew on my cast and then my arm was super stinky when the cast came off.

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Sasha: Gideon? Sophisticated. And...Suede.

Gideon: Suede?

Sasha: Yeah! You know, someone like super confident and elegant...

Gideon: Did you mean...suave?

Sasha: ...Wut?

Gideon: [Quickly] Sasha is completely and devastatingly adorable and endearing.

Are they a night owl or a morning bird?

Gideon: I don’t need much sleep, but I find myself keeping hours similar to Sasha’s now.

Sasha: I stay up late when I work at the diner.

What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

Sasha: This man loves the flavor of his fancy-pants whiskey.

Gideon: You forgot my favorite one: you.

Sasha: Stop it...And you hated Twizzlers.

Gideon: Why someone would eat a rope of twisted wax is beyond me. You hate fine whiskey- I'll never forget “liquid leather”. But you love junk food, which baffles me. Have some Styrofoam instead- at least it doesn't pretend to be real food.

Sasha: Heh! I got you some Tootsie Rolls and Necco candy... Can't wait to see you try those...

Do they have any hobbies?

Gideon: I love the arts. I frequented the theatre, museums, and concert halls often. I'd love to take Sasha with me sometime.

Sasha: I like walking around the city. There is always something interesting or new to see. Oh, and piling stuff into the hall closet so the contents fall down on Dima when he opens it. He falls for it. Every. Time.

Boom, surprise birthday party! how do they react to surprises?

Sasha and Gideon look at each other: No.

Sasha: Let’s say what we hate about surprise parties at the count of three. Ready? 1...2...3!

Gideon: Surprises.

Sasha: People.

Do they like to wear jewelry? if so, what is their favorite piece?

Gideon: I don’t really wear anything except for my Rolex Daytona.

Sasha: F*ck. How am I supposed to follow that? A few pizza-shaped earrings from Claire’s? They were super cute, though. Oh, and a friendship bracelet Tito made me a couple years ago. It broke off but I still have it somewhere.

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

Sasha: Have you seen his writing? It’s like he signed the Declaration of Independence. Mine is barely legible.  

What are two emotions they feel the most?

Gideon: I sense many of Sasha’s emotions, but I don’t want to put him on the spot.

Sasha: I do feel anxious and upset a lot.

Gideon: My emotions would be frustration and...Hmm...

Sasha: Horniness.

Gideon [Stares in mock surprise as Sasha snickers]

Do they have a favorite fabric?

Gideon: I like linen. It has an elegant simplicity that is timeless.

Sasha: I like flannel.

Gideon: [Playfully] Not suede?

Sasha: Oh, haha, you dick.

What kind of accent do they have?

Sasha: Do I even have an accent?

Gideon: You sound like you’re from San Myshuno. No doubt. What about me?

Sasha: You do have a pretty neutral accent, but every once in a while you’ll sound like you’re from Henford-on-Bagley.

Gideon: Well, it was more likely to hear Simlish from Henford since it is closer to where I hail from.

Sasha, imitating Gideon very hammily: Say, old chap, do you fancy a tipple of liquid leather with some freshly harvested Cheetos? No, wait- Cheeee-tooows!

[Laughing]

Sasha: Heh! I guess that wasn't so bad, after all...

I'm tagging the following storytellers who are wonderful: @agena87, @aurorangen, @eljeebee, @miss-may-i, @aheathen-conceivably, and if anyone else wants to play, please do so. And because I believe in miracles: @damseljamselI and @greighish. @lynzishell, if you wanted to do this for Phoenix and Dawn...here is your chance! I'd totally read it up! I'd tag more folks but I'm feeling a bit off these days and (irrationally- I hope) worried about bothering people. In that vein- this is totally optional! (butifyoudoitiwannareaditall!)

#the sims 4 #sims 4 story #sims 4 screenshots #DARKER #sasha #gideon #tag games #Deep Drive OC Questionnaire #these two are doing an interesting dance #luckily gideon can sense sasha's emotions #it eases his mind since sasha is not in a place where he can be vulnerable yet #that sweater is too perfect for sasha

[sonyshock]

Hi! I've always seen you around the sonic community and I decided to see your other art and I am in love! especially with Faust! He's living in my mind rent free!

Hope you don't mind me asking, what's the secret behind how you draw paws? they look so meaty (at least Starline and Faust's) and I love it!

Hello!! Thanks to Twitter's 'For You' page I've been coming across A LOT of sonic stuff, it's quite tragic and I'm sorry /j

I'm very glad you are liking with little horrible bat man! <3 (This is not really /J, he is kind of a mix of the worst kind of people except covered in loser and gay energy) Hope you are ready to see more~ Now! Today has been an exceptionally good day so let me use my energy to whip you some simple tutorials!

There's two main ways I draw paws! I think I've given Starline both of these kinds, meanwhile Faust almost exclusively is drawn with the second method.

First, the more soft, cute type!

And then this type when I want it to be sexy or uncanny or scary (or all of the above)

Those are a bit wonky here and there, but it's a bit late right now and my wife will get mad if i let my soup get cold~ Hope those help!! If they're too small you should be able to 'right click and open the image in a new tab~

Thanks a lot for the message =D <3 Love getting those

#claw #paw #art #ask #tutorial #text

[momentsbeforemass]

Socks on the floor

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you.”

That’s how today’s Gospel starts. Jesus is telling us that there’s the world’s version of peace. And then there’s God’s version.

The world’s version of peace is the kind you and I get when there’s a break in the action. Two things about that kind of peace.

One – it doesn’t last. You and I know this. Sometimes we even call it “a moment’s peace.”

Two – whether we worked hard for it, or it just happened, it’s fragile. It will be wiped away by the next thing that happens.

Because the world’s version of peace is the peace of the finished task. The peace of the sleeping child. The peace of the cancelled meeting.

It’s not a question of whether that peace will end. It’s just a matter of how and when.

It’s a peace that cannot last. Because it’s just a break in the action.

And because it is just a break in the action, it’s never there when you and I need it most – when we’re right in the middle of things.

Especially things like death, divorce, addiction, illness, job loss. The hard things.

So, what’s God’s version of peace?

God’s version of peace – is peace in right in the middle of things. Even the hard things.

The difference between God’s peace and the world’s is the source.

God’s peace doesn’t come from a break in the action. God’s peace comes from making a place for God in our lives.

God freely pours out His peace for all of us. But you and I have to be smart enough to take it.

To do that, we have to build habits of peace.

That is, we have to intentionally build places within our lives, within our routine, and within ourselves to be with God.

We can have set times for Bible reading and prayer.

We can have landmarks (places, images, things we do, etc.) that we us to call us to God.

We can have moments and feelings (good, bad, or indifferent) that we turn into calls to prayer.

It can be as formal or informal as we like.

Whatever we do, we have to actually do it. And it has to lead us to a spiritual place.

But we can’t treat that place like grandma’s house. A place we only go to for Christmas or when someone dies.

We can’t treat that place like a storm shelter. A place we only run to when we hear the tornado sirens.

That place has to be our home. The place we live in, every day.

And you and I have to really live in that place of God’s peace.

Until there are dishes in the sink and socks on the floor.  

Until you and I are talking with God – taking things to God in prayer, telling God all about all of it, seeking God’s will for the big things and the small stuff – talking with God like our dearest friend.

Not just while we’re reading the Bible or saying our prayers, but in the middle of everything.

Even while we’re dropping our socks on the floor.

Today’s Readings

#Peace #God's peace #Peace in the middle of things #Habits #Socks #God #Jesus #Catholic #Christian #Church #Catholicism #Moments Before Mass

[psiirockin]

do you have any advice for opening commissions? i feel like you have them very professionally set up, and i have pretty bad social anxiety, so it might be helpful to hear tips for communicating with customers and such, or setting up a fair tos!

hi so, maybe i do have some advice!!! <33 thank you so so much for the kindness & seeing me as professional lol i’ve been doing comms for 2-3 years and i must say.. still getting the hang of a lot of things. you go through a lot of trial + error trying to figure out what works best for you, so remember theres no truly right way to go about comms! they should all fit the needs, pace, and benefit of you and your work ethic!

what i did personally is start off at some lower prices just to test the waters and get the ball rolling. i priced rendered characters at i think, $24 per character? possibly lower, i cant quite remember. and then i gradually went up as i started to progress in my art style more + had more people coming in.

with customers, i have a lot of anxiety as well! im autistic, so i never like making a customer feel like i dont truly care abt the commission by accidentally sounding too flat or anything. i tend to RLLY overthink it lol so we make sure we are extra talkative + kind about their comm! giving them compliments on the character, showing genuine excitement so they know theyre in good hands! (we love engaging esp when the customer seems VERY excited or enthusiastic abt the commission!)

a lot of irl turmoil tends to happen in our life which can make a comm delayed sometimes. could be severe mental health problems, just being busy w/ shit in general. its important to just keep your customers up to date, especially if its going to take a realllyyy long time or the customer likes frequent updates.

i used to be able to get shit done in like a night. but, with an actual line up/queue of comm work we progressively started taking longer and longer esp as we transitioned from a teenager starting out and into a busy adult with persistent mental health issues. (plus our art becomes more complex as time goes on, so that has to be taken into account) tbhs, depending on your availability and how much effort goes into your work, and as the demand grows, you need to charge accordingly and just be honest with your clientele.

as for TOS do what makes you comfortable! make your limits known and put your foot down when a request or any topic makes you uncomfortable. dont let your customers get inappropriate with you or try to make you feel bad if they dont wanna pay for what they ask for, etc. i also recommend requesting payment after sketch/half and half when starting out just so you can get some experience under your belt + assure future clients that youre professional n wont scam them! (if you plan on switching to payment upfront in the future)

just remember that u are not a machine, you are a human being making art for someone else. putting love n effort into your craft, time and effort. take your time getting the hang of comm stuff, things dont have to be perfect in your setup at first.

#asks #asks open #commissions

[tetras-stuff]

been talking a lot on here about jill valentine and her potential as a character but another character i think is often underutilised and disappointingly written is actually wesker. I would love it if they explored the real relationship dynamics between him and STARS, especially Jill and Chris. like it would be so much more interesting if he actually really liked them and maybe even misses his STARS days in his own way, but regrettably has to betray them and move forward with his plans because he genuinely 100% believes he is in the right. it would be gutwrenching if he, Jill and Chris all felt the weight of responsibility over friendship and commradarie, if they had to choose between personal feelings of "but I don't want to hurt you" and taking down who they see as the bad guy.

I mean, in Lost in Nightmares, they find the stuff about Project W. It would be cool if they reacted to this, if they tried to make those connections. It would be so interesting to see Jill and Wesker's dynamic change once she throws them out of the estate - having to work together, begrudgingly trying again to trust each other despite the constant betrayal. If Wesker truly believed he was in the right, it would be easy to try and convince Jill that his plan is the right one after all she's seen (e.g. seeing the effects of chaotic infection, seeing how quick humanity turns on itself, and knowing Wesker may have a way to finally control that chaos and maybe even take the pressure of heroism away from her). It would be a really fascinating portrayal of villainy coming from (twisted) good intention, and it would be kind of cool to see Jill becoming more morally grey.

It would also be interesting to explore Wesker's self-realisation as he slowly loses himself to megalomania in the exact same way Spencer did. Does he feel self-hatred because of this? Would a part of him feel relief at his death once he was mutated beyond recognition? Can he feel anything at all, is there humanity in him??? when he looks at chris, does he feel resentment for the person he could have become, or hatred that he could never have been what Chris is?

cartoonishly evil villains are fun, but I wonder if they'll explore any of this as they try and make the remakes a bit more serious (emphasis on a bit)

#i think he is very interesting i just wish they explored it #and oh boy i hope this isnt as controversial as my jill post i just love these characters and want capcom to give them a bit more nuance #especially now the remakes are trying to flesh out some of these characters #chris has had a lot pf fleshing out with the newer games and i love that theyre making him slowly more and more like wesker #i wonder how he feels about that #i wish we knew #resident evil #jill valentine #albert wesker #chris redfield #wesker meta #i guess #lol #re5

[florencetypemaniacs]

NSFW‼️

How would ROs react if MC came up from behirnd them and started caressing them and whispered spicy stuff they'd love to do with the RO?

⚠️ Mild NSFW

💛 Marcel

Marcel smiled and turned around, amusement in his voice. "Is this your way of getting my attention?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Depends on what kind of attention I get."

"Well considering all I want to do is all the things you suggested I would say you will like the attention I want to give you."

Marcel gently put his hands on your hips. "Is this okay?" He said, his eyes darkening.

"Mmm...more than okay I would say-"

Marcel grabbed your hands and put them above your head, pinning you to the wall as he kissed you in feverish haste like he was a man dying of thirst. No dying of you.

You moaned into the kiss which only seemed to egg Marcel on as he roughly used his other hand to pull your hair, giving you access to your neck.

"Is this okay?" Marcel asked, his voice soft as he whispered into your ear.

Your only response was a whine.

🧡 Margaret

The moment you started whispering sexy stuff in her ear, Margaret was a blushing mess.

Hiding her face in her hands as you ever so gently turned her around so she was facing you, her head still hiding.

"What too much?" You said in a seductive tone, your face inches from hers that made Margaret let out an almost inhuman squeak.

"Can...Can I kiss you?" She whispered so softly that your ears were strained from listening.

You let out a chuckle and gently put her hands down from her face where you could see the ever-growing blush. "Margaret you don't have to ask...." you said in an amused tone but before you could even make a sly remark, Margaret pulled you in for a kiss only to then hide in your shoulder.

"You're killing me with how confident you are," Margaret said, feeling her giggles through your chest.

❤️ Owen

Owen hated games. The thought of a cat-and-mouse situation between you two sent a jolt of irrigation, especially since you two were already dating, and the questioning about your feelings and even his own were all out in the open.

Although even he couldn't deny the teasing touches and the spicy words that you whispered in his ear as he sat on the couch.

But Owen was a man of action, and he saw what happened to people who waited for the perfect moment, so he simply grabbed your hand and placed it on his hard excitement.

Not expecting you to stop your teasing to look at him with bewildered eyes and a soft blush that paired well with your still sly smile that was etched across your face.

"If ye going to be teasing, lass/duck/lad, then I would suggest getting me winded up first Although I suspect after I'm done with ye you're going to be begging for forgiveness."

Owen got up, practically looming over you and grinned when you gulped, his face itching from your own.

"Still want to play this bloody game?"

💙 Rosemary

Rosemary tensed for only a second when your hands found her body, but recognizing the familiar voice in her ear made her bite her lip to stop a moan.

The touches that she was used to were always less than sincere but knowing you were focused on only the parts of the body that were sensitive to her made her toes tingle more than the dirty talk ever could.

"MC...no need to butter me up..." Rosemary's voice was a familiar purr that promised so many things to come that you felt your nerves spike.

"Well, I thought you might need some convincing." You said breathless, maybe it was because Rosemary was the embodiment of lust but the effect she had on you always left you a little out of breath.

Rosemary turned around only to grab your hand and leave you in the bedroom.

"Trust me when I say when it comes to you. I don't need any convincing.."

🩵 Tai

Tai would never admit that he melted at your words nor would he admit that all the blood went south as soon as your hands were on him. No, he would never admit that, but he knew that you knew what torture you were putting him through and for some reason, that made only the blood travel quicker.

"MC? What are you doing?" He couldn't find it in himself to be upset that his voice came out barely a whisper.

"Nothing." You said in a coy voice and Tai just knew you were smiling and he bit his lip as your hands wandered.

"Is this going to come of anything or are you only doing this to rile me up?"

"I don't know....is it working?" You said, in a teasing voice, your head resting on Tai's back.

"You know that It is...so I will ask again...is this going to lead anywhere?"

You pretended to think. "Well, I suppose-" you were cut off as Tai whirled around and kissed you, deep and slow, as if savoring you, leaving you dizzy when you both pulled away.

Tai pulled you towards the bedroom. "Come on."

"Don't you have work?" You asked, still on cloud nine from the kiss.

Tai started to take off his sweater. "Don't worry I always fit you into my schedule."

💚 Zane

Zane grinned like a Cheshire cat and turned around to face you, making you step back in surprise if it wasn't for Zane pulling you against him.

"Do you really want to play this game?" Zane whispered in your ear, making you lose your breath as your body anticipated the pleasure that was about to quickly follow.

It didn't take long for Zane to get you out of the clothes especially since you were just as eager and he didn't hear any complaints as he shoved you against the countertops of the kitchen, making you bite back a yell quickly followed by a moan as he started to kiss your neck.

"Don't play games that you can't finish, little lion."

#my inner sins #interactive fiction #twine interactive fiction #ask #answered ask #MIS-Ask #MIS-Answered Ask #MIS-RO:Owen #MIS-RO:Zane #MIS-RO:Marcel #MIS-RO:Margaret #MIS-RO:Rosemary #MIS-RO:Tai #Owen #Zane #Marcel #Margaret #Rosemary #Tai

[hazbinsimp777]

❤️Alastor x Fem Avenger Reader ❤️

Hello everyone! This is a new story I’ve always wanted to do, because I love Alastor, i love Hazbin Hotel and I always loved Marvel. So to me, the only logical thing to do was, mix all together. This will be a full on series! For clarification this would be an alternative universe to the MCU, but still the same characters and backstories! Hope you all have a great time reading!

The HH characters will not be in this chapter, but they will be in the next!

Y/n Roger’s Abilities: Flight, Elemental magic, telekinesis, energy blasts, Superhuman qualities.

GORE! DEATH!CUSSING!

~Chapter 1~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Avengers Tower, 2024, New York.

“Peter! Give me back my taco you bitch!” Y/n yelled, flying from the kitchen while chasing the boy, web slinging to escape.

“Come on Y/n! I’m hungry, a-and you know I’ve been doing a lot for Mr. Stark lately-” Peter said, defending his case and circumstances.

That is when Peter started to float up into the air, startled, he realized it was just you lifting him up. Bringing you closer to him, smirking, taking the taco back, “I’ll make you some tacos spidey just don’t steal mine.”

“O-oh thank you so much Y/n!” He thanked, getting dropped to the ground. You both always had this sibling-like friendship.

“No problem” The fellow young one replied, going back into the kitchen, making her spider friend a taco. Set it on a plate alongside with a glass of sweet tea. The young teen happily ate the meal with pure bliss. “Wow-Aunt May never makes stuff like this.” He adds, his mouth full of food, smiling.

That is when Natasha, Bruce, Clint and Steve (Your adoptive father) entered from the elevator, back again from a mission Fury sent them on. You were one of the youngest avengers, and you did pretty well for yourself, today was one of your days off actually. There was no training, no mission, no assignment, nothing to do. Alteration and Transmutation And you were happy like that.

“If you hadn’t killed him we would’ve gotten the classified information!” Natasha complained to Bruce.

“Hey if you want to complain you gotta tell it to the big guy.” Bruce told the red head, taking off his glasses and rubbing his temples.

“Okay no more arguing, we’ll deal with them next time” Steve said, a smile appearing on his face the second he saw you, “Hi Y/n.” He greeted, giving you a hug.

“Hey dad.” You greeted. Handing him some of his sweet tea, he thanked you.

“Doe, Tony Jr, what have you two been doing?” Nat asked the two of you, sipping some coffee she made herself. 

“This motherfucker took my taco” You pointed dramatically, rolling your eyes, earning a “language” from your father. 

“I gave it back!” Peter argued, giving a somewhat angry expression, crossing his arms.

“Stealing is stealing.” was the only response he got,“where is Tony?” You asked. 

“Oh he's still locked up in the lab.” Bruce said, “You’d think he is married to that place by now.” Steve added, walking out to go in his quarters. 

“See you later, you kids.” Bruce exited, walking out to the living room, followed by Natasha, they had a long day, it makes sense to go rest.

“Do we really have to keep reminding them we aren’t kids?’ Peter turned and asked you. Only a shrug in response, “Wanna go watch Star Wars?” Peter offered.

“Yes!” You answered, dragging him along with some snacks floating behind you. 

Yup that was an average day with the Avengers, after almost dying all the time, you all had formed some kind of bond. Especially you, Peter and Loki, all being the youngest on the team. Well, maybe not Loki, but in Asgardian years, he is twenty-two so, nonetheless still young. You and Peter got Loki in the Star Wars fandom, so you went to knock on his door, he answered with a book in his hand.

“Hello young Steven.” That is just what he called you, since you were so much like your adoptive father, except the more murder part. 

“Hey Lokes, wanna watch Star Wars with me and Pete?” You asked, a smile on your face.

The god sighed, closing the door, then opening back up. He was dressed in his pajamas. Snacks in his hand and an Anakin plushie. You squealed in excitement, grabbing his hand and dragging you along with him, when Peter saw the two of you walk in, you both were squealing in sync. Watching all the movies in your room, on your bed, all warm in a huge purple, cosmic blanket. This was your idea of happiness. And you really loved your life. Nothing was going to change that. 

~The Next Month~

You would be surprised about what can happen in a month, New York has a new threat. HYDRA arose to power again, and SHIELD didn’t even notice with all the cosmic threats going on. Your greatest enemy, Acantha, who had killed your entire family and accidentally gave you your abilities, tried to kill you multiple times, was the leader behind it all. Of course, this infuriated you, because all she wanted to do was wipe out all of the superheroes so she can be the only one with such abilities. And she did not spare any of her victims of the pain, sometimes torture. 

You would never admit it but you wanted revenge. Steve always said it's not the right thing to do. But she caused you so much pain, why not give her a taste of her own medicine, right? It's not something that could send you to hell. 

Fury wanted her and HYDRA gone. When finding out their location, it was time to attack and bring the whole operation down. Everyone was getting ready and geared up, that is until Bucky came up to you.

“Are you sure you want to deal with this doll?” He asked, always seeing you as a daughter more than a niece.

“Of course Buck! I mean, just like any other mission, no?” You said, adjusting your suit and hair.

“Just, don't only focus on revenge, not the best road to be on, I should know.” He patted your shoulder and headed to the quinjet. That really had you thinking, but pushing those thoughts aside.

You had stuff to do. You met everyone there, as soon as you took one step into the vehicle, your stomach dropped. Suddenly, you felt like something very bad was about to happen. Taking your seat, your dad noticed, quickly approaching you, taking a seat next to you.

“Nervous?” He asked, turning his head towards you.

“To be honest, yeah.” You answered, fidgeting with your fingers, looking down.

He put an arm around you, hugging you. “You are unbelievably strong, I know you can face this, as your father, I won’t let anything happen to you.” He reassured, you felt protected.

“Thanks dad, I’ll keep that in mind.” You thanked him, as we left for the pilot’s seat.

That is when Peter, Loki and Thor went to sit next to you. All three of you were always a chaotic squad. They were the best friends you ever had, not like you ever had any growing up. That's when you all started talking, always about the most random things. It was always great to spend time with them, even though Thor was always busy.

With the Quinjet landing, Steve started to explain the plan, for team 1 there was:

-Tony

-Natasha

-Bruce

-Clint

-Thor

Team 2:

-Steve

-Bucky

-Y/n

-Loki

-Peter

Simple enough. Team 1 is assigned to clear and attack the outside perimeter, take out guards, and other agents HYDRA may have in store. Team 2 is assigned to take out the main threats inside the base, even to steal classified files for future plans they may have. Of course, Steve had to say a short speech, ending it with, “Avengers Assemble”

And that is exactly what had happened. With team two, Loki had casted some Asgardian cloaking spells to become unnoticed by the cameras. Steve and Bucky took care of some guards that stood in their way to their control room. Not killing of course. You and Peter, had hacked into some doors in order to get inside the important information, but something wasn’t right.

That is when you looked into the surveillance cameras, it showed the outside, everyone had guns pointed to their heads. Bruce was passed out, only his shorts to cover himself, Nat and Clint were in a headlock by a guard, Tony’s suit was just stuck there, Thor has some kind of mystical handcuffs stuck to him. A wave of shock entered the room when everyone seen, Acantha, now all you felt was anger in your blood.

“I’m going out there.” You said bluntly, hands clenched into fists.

“Y/n no you are not.” Steve and Bucky said at the time in sync.

“I am not kidding, I’m going,” You protested, getting up and walking towards the door. But being blocked by Loki, Steve, and Bucky. Peter was still sitting down, clueless about what to do.

“I am finishing this, with or without you all.” You looked at them with a serious expression.

“Look Y/n-” Loki started, but then an invisible force pinned him to the wall, it was you.

Bucky had a look of disbelief on his face, you never done anything like this, to your cared for ones at least. Before snapping out of his phase of shock, trying to sneak behind you, until you shot some ice toward his metal arm, stuck to a wall by the arm. Steve threw his shield at your feet, not wanting to hurt you, but you caught it (using telekinesis), tying him with some tough tree bark to the ground.

Peter and Loki managed to grab both of your arms, pinning to the ground, struggling to get out of their grip. You used your flight with your legs, lifting them to try to kick Peter in the face, he grabbed your foot with incredible reflexes, throwing you to a wall. Loki then charged at you, using his magic to make illusions of himself, surrounding you. Getting up, wiping some blood from your lip, you used heat to eliminate the fake Lokis, leaving the real one standing. Catching him off guard, you lift him into the air, then stick him to the wall with ice, revealing his jotun form slightly.

Being distracted, Peter took this chance to attach a web to you, pulling you towards the ground. Attaching webs all over your body, apologizing the whole time, getting on top of you, attempting to reason with you. You did not care what he had to say, breaking through them with pure strength, surprising him, you wrap your legs around him, throwing him behind you. The wall is now in ruins at this point, then, wrapping him with a bunch of tree branches.

“Told you, I’m going with or without you.” You said, now literally on fire, walking out.

“Did we all just get"bodied " by a teenage girl?” Bucky asked out-loud, still working on his slang. Peter gave him a smile, clearly proud of the old man, still not able to give him a thumbs up.

You flew to that very location where everyone was at,sparks of lightning radiating off of you. Your eyes glowing blood red, you were going to end her, give her the beating of her life, and brutally kill her once and for all. You then spot her, landing a few feet in front of her, with a loud gust of wind. A look of pure blood lust, anger and revenge written all over your face.

All the avengers were able to do was watch, Acantha, who had a pure shitty grin on her face, was right there waiting for you. Her dark magic radiating off of her, her necklace glowing along with her eyes. Both of you making eye contact.

“Wow, is this what you’ve been doing these past years, kinda pathetic if you ask me.” Acantha said with a smug smile, playing with her magic, she surely knew how to get under your skin.

This only angered you more, “You took everything from me, and now you are going to pay with your life!” You yelled while charging at her, making ice and fire kantanas for both hands.

“You can try, but it will be a very pathetic attempt if you ask me, against the most powerful dark magic wielder!” She said, making herself a magical sword, blocking your attack.

You both fought, almost dying multiple times. She lifted you up, punching you in the face with pure dark magic, sending you flying backwards. Catching yourself by making your own snow, flying back at amazing speeds. Pinning her down, tying her hands with lightning chains to the ground, now on top of her. Punching her with every element and with all the strength you wield.

“You took my family from me!”

Punch with fire.

“Caused me years of trauma!”

Punch with ice.

“You took my boyfriend from me!”

Punch with lightning.

“You took my home from me!”

Punch with a branch.

“You took my childhood from me!”

Punch with energy blast.

“You took my sanity”

Punch from your bare hands, angry tears falling from your eyes.

You just kept punching, being caught off guard, you felt a sharp pain from your heart. Stopping, looking at it, you saw a black, sharp object, coming from your heart, blood coming from your mouth. It was Acantha’s living magic. She then took this chance to punch you, she was beaten up, now you were weak. She walked up to you, standing above you, kneeling beside you as you struggled to breathe. Grabbing you by the hair.

“This is what happens when you mess with people beyond your league.” She whispered in your ear, a knife in front of your neck, slicing it.

Leaving you to die, a pool of blood leaving your body. All the Avengers were in tears, they cannot believe what had just happened. Steve, Peter, Bucky and Loki were all watching from that same control room. Steve tried to keep a straight face, but his eyes were full of sadness and lost.

His daughter, who he swore to protect, was killed brutally under his watch. Everyone had tears in their eyes, you were like family to them, so young and full of potential. That is when Fury and SHIELD agents came as backup. Scaring HYDRA away, including Acathna, evacuating the area. Eventually, they found the Avengers, all being released. 

Now all were gathered in the Quinjet, all in silence, the room was heavy and full of emotion. Fury walked in front of them, catching their attention.

“I am sorry for the loss of Y/n Rogers, I know she meant a great amount to you, a funeral shall be held next week on Thursday, I will give you time to mourn the loss of an incredible Avenger.” He said, then waking back to the pilot's pit of the jet.

No one dared to utter a word.

You woke up, looking at your surroundings, it was so dark and depressing. Looking at yourself, this certainly wasn’t heaven. You realize.

This is hell.

“Dammit.” You muttered.

~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope ya'll liked this! I'm posting this again because all of the chapters got deleted. Thanks to some amazing people who had downloaded some of the chapters, I managed to do this again! I am still working on some request, I'll just be posting a new chapter weekly.

Request are closed!

#hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #Fem! Avenger Reader x Alastor Series #the avengers #marvel #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor x you #alastor x y/n

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Gross

Fic Idea (no pressure obviously) Thomas struggling with his self image and ego, and in response Roman ends shapeshifting all the time, fluctuating between the masculine beauty standard (lean, muscular, hairless) and what society considers “ugly” (pudgy, hairy). And based on how he looks, Roman will interact with the others or hide away – anon

hihi!! had this random idea for a sanders sides fic- something along the lines of- a while after Remus and Roman split, Remus comes back (when the dark sides start to get more involved) and confesses that he hoped Roman was doing better after he joined the light sides? that all he wanted was for his brother to be happy, away from the darkness for once? angst sadness ykyk :)) – can-you-hear-me-axhilles

hi, so I just read your wings series and I was wondering if we could have something with Remus and his tentacles? Like maybe him thinking they are ugly or something, I’m not really sure. Maybe Roman has animal characteristics too and they’re “prettier” or “better” so he gets insecure? Mainly focused on these two but I don’t mind if it’s all of them together. No pressure to write this tho! – anon

I’ve been reading your Sanders Sides stuff for the longest time and I was wondering if I could get some Roman angst with a side of creativitwins? – meandmacats

Read on Ao3

Warnings: non-consensual body modification, self-esteem issues, self-hatred

Pairings: gen

Word Count: 5481

Or, five times Remus helped Roman out when Thomas's self-esteem issues change his nature, and one time Roman helps Remus.

 

”Remus?”

Remus looks up from his knitting to see Patton standing over him. “What’s good, Pat-Pat?”

“I’m, what’re you doing?”

“Oh, I’m knitting this patchwork sweater out of hair.”

“Oh…how cool.” Patton gives himself a shake. “Anyway, I was wondering if you’ve seen Roman? He was supposed to come down for lunch but he never showed.”

“Like, at all, at all?”

“Yeah. Neither hair nor hide! Or—well, I guess he did do the hide since he’s hiding from us, and you’re the hair!”

“Ah, Pat-Pat, never stop with the dad jokes. You’ll make all of us go into pun-withdrawal.” Remus carefully sets aside the needles and bounces to his feet. “I’ll go look for him, see if he needs to be pried out of the dragon’s gullet again.”

“Oh, thanks so much, Remus, I really—wait, ‘again?’”

“Gotta blast!”

Honestly, it’s not like Roro is known for missing deadlines, that’s Remus’s thing. Especially when it comes to things like meals and remembering to eat—well, Ro’s not exactly the pinnacle of healthy practices when he get absorbed in his work, but he’s better at it than some people give him credit for. Which means he’s either deep in the middle of something he’s keeping to himself, he’s asleep because the time zones in the Imagination are all kinds of wackadoo, or he really does need to be rescued.

Which isn’t Remus’s thing, come on, Ro, you’re ruining his reputation.

By the time he gets to the Imagination, he’s already pulling out his acid-proof gloves and sharpening his Morningstar. He stops dead, however, when he sees the doors are still locked from last night. That’s weird. Maybe Ro just used his personal gate instead of the main one? But that just takes him right to his little workshop area, that’s not anywhere near where the dragons are…

He’s about to go for his gateway when he hears a quiet noise coming from Roman’s door. Frowning, he turns. Roman’s door is only a few feet away. He glances up and down the hall to make sure none of the resident sneaks are nearby—Janus and Virgil—and knocks on the door.

“Uh, busy!”

“Ro, it’s me.”

“Oh. Did you, um, did you need something?”

“You weren’t at lunch. Pat-Pat’s getting worried.”

He hears a muffled curse and the door glimmers slightly. That’s Roman’s cue that he can sink in. He stows the acid gloves and the Morningstar and sinks in, expecting Roman at his desk or on the floor puzzling over some bit of a story he can’t quite get right, but instead he sees an empty room.

“Where are you?”

“Bathroom.”

Remus pops his head through the door and blinks. “Whoa.”

”Yeah, yeah,” Roman mumbles, already reaching for the bandages curled up on the counter, “you don’t have to say it.”

”That looks—“

“I said you don’t have to say it.”

Remus slams his mouth shut, but he can’t stop staring at the acne. Throbbing red pimples that look like they’re causing Roman pain every time he so much as breathes, bigger whiteheads that have already started to ooze, blackheads that litter every inch of skin that isn’t already covered, some of which look like they’re almost on top of each other…

Roman turns his back on him and hunches his shoulders. “What do you want, Re?”

“I, uh…well, now I want to help.”

Roman laughs. It’s not funny. “There isn’t any helping this. Not until Thomas feels better.”

“Whoa. Back up. What?”

“This.” He waves a hand at his face. “This is a thing, remember?”

“Oh. Oh, right, fuck.”

“Yeah.”

Remus scrubs a hand over his face. “Can I help make it less painful while it’s going on?”

There’s a pause. Then Roman’s head turns slightly. “Would you?”

“Shit, yeah,. Roro. You’ve helped me with stuff more times than I can count on my fingers and toes, let me help you.” He gets a small huff that might be an actual that-was-kind-of-funny-I’m-feeling-better laugh. “Yeah?”

“…yeah, okay.”

“Wonder-bats! Okay, I think I still have that stuff from when we had those sores from the poison experiments…where did I put that?”

“Did you leave it in your room or my room?”

”We cleaned up here, so it should be…aha!” He takes a big plastic case from under the sink. “Go sit your perky butt on the edge of the tub, I’ll be right there.”

“…thanks, Remus.”

“What’re brothers for?”

2.

The very first time it had happened, it had been well before Thomas had learned what it was to be attractive.

Remus had found Roman crying in his room, curled up under all the blankets he could find with tissues covering the floor.

“Ro-bro? What happened? Do I need to fight someone for you?”

“It won’t come off!”

“What won’t come off?”

Roman had peered out from under the blanket cocoon and Remus’s mouth had dropped open when he saw the words FREAK and LOSER written all across Roman’s face in permanent marker.

“Who did that? Was it Virgil? I’ll fight him!”

“No,” Roman had sniffled, “it wasn’t—wasn’t Virgil. It wasn’t any of them.”

“Did you do it? That’s more my kinda thing, isn’t it?”

“No!” Roman had wailed. “I didn’t do it! Someone—someone hurt Thomas!”

“Someone hurt Thomas? But nothing happened! We didn’t get into any fights!”

“Not like that! They were just mean. They were really mean and they said he looked ugly and they called him a f-freak and a loser and—and—“

Remus had scurried forward and wrapped his brother in a hug as he broke down in tears. “You’re not a freak or a loser, Roro. Neither is Thomas. They were wrong, you know that, right?”

”Then why won’t it come off?”

Sure enough, up close, Remus had seen the red and raw skin where Roman had scrubbed it with whatever he could find to make the words go away. Bits were even coming off on the blanket as Roman rubbed his cheek against it.

”Hey, hey, stop that. You’re hurting yourself.”

“I don’t care.”

“I care! I don’t like seeing my brother hurt!” Remus had given him a shake. “You don’t have to hurt yourself more on top of this, okay? Come on, come into the bathroom, I’ll help you.”

“Y-you will?”

“Yeah, Roro, come on.”

The twins had gone to the bathroom where towels and washcloths were still strewn around from Roman’s previous attempts. Remus had made Roman sit on the stool and reached for the soap, getting one of the washcloth more suds than cloth and trying to wipe off the words.

“That tastes so bad.”

“So keep your mouth shut.”

“But you keep wiping it over my mouth!”

“No, I’m wiping it over your cheek, which is next to your mouth. And you talking isn’t making it any better, so shush.”

Roman had grumbled silently until Remus accidentally went too roughly over one of the sore spots and Roman yelped.

“Ow!”

“Sorry, I’m sorry,. I didn’t mean to.”

“Wash it off! Wash it off!”

“Okay, okay! Come here!”

They had stumbled over to the sink and Remus practically shoved Roman’s head under the tap. He had spluttered and flailed out, splashing Remus.

”Hey! Don’t splash me!”

“I’ll splash you all I want!”

“No, you won’t!”

“Yeah, I will!”

It had…devolved from there.

The bathroom had been sopping wet by the end of it, not a towel nor tile had been spared from the twin’s water war. Their clothes were just as soaked, their hair dripping like they’d just walked through a hurricane. The sink and the bathtub still ran as if nothing were wrong and the detachable shower head in Remus’s hand sprayed as merrily as ever.

”Whoa, hey!”

“What?”

“It’s gone!”

Roman had run to the mirror, touching his face. Sure enough, the words had vanished.

”It is gone!”

”You’re welcome,” and he had taken a big bow with the shower head still spraying everywhere, “I think that means I win.”

“Whoa, wait, no, it doesn’t.”

“Yes, it does.”

”No!”

“Yes!”

It took a while longer for the war to end and even longer for the bathroom to dry.

3.

Someone says Thomas eats too much junk food and Roman can’t stop dripping oil.

Remus finds him sitting on his bathroom floor, the drain in the shower covered with a towel. He’s sitting on towels too, towels soaked and heavy with oil as Roman’s tears fight to get out from his eyes and through the slick covering his skin.

“The others are worried,” he says quietly, lingering in the doorway, “they want to know what’s wrong.”

Roman doesn’t say anything. Remus peers a little closer and sees the telltale sheen over his mouth too. Even just thinking about how it must feel to have that much oil on his lips makes Remus shudder. He summons a washcloth from his own stash and a bottle of soap.

“Just like old times,” he says as he crouches down in front of him, “I’m gonna wash off the oil on your face, okay?”

Roman manages a small nod and Remus gets to work. Normally when he’s washing oil off stuff, he scrubs at it like he’s trying to grind it with sandpaper and the soap foams up around his wrist. But this is Roman, not some metal piece of equipment, so he goes as gently as he can without suffocating him with soap or making no progress at all. He has to stop a few times when Roman lets out a pained noise or winces at the rasp of the cloth, just holding a blotting sheet there to soak up the oil as best he can while he waits for him to settle. He makes a note to work on the heavy duty blotters in case something like this ever happens again.

At last, when Roman looks like he’s about to cry for a very different reason, the space around his lips and nose is clear enough for him to gasp out a few words.

“Sorry, thank you, sorry—“

”Shh-shh, Roro, you don’t need to apologize. Just tell me what you need.”

”’S so gross.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’m right here.”

Roman lets out a frustrated whine and Remus quickly pulls out his phone.

“If you tell me what Thomas needs to stop thinking about I can get Lolo on it.”

“No, then he’ll—“

“I’m not gonna tell him what’s wrong with you, okay? I’m just gonna prod them into getting Thomathy’s brain on the right track away from whatever-the-fuck-this-is-station.”

More oil starts to build up and he shoves his phone in his pocket, working on washing it away again. His presence seems to have calmed Roman down a bit; the oil comes in smaller waves this time, concentrated more around the naturally oily parts of his face rather than every inch of his skin. When he’s cleaned off the areas around his nose and mouth, he goes and starts moving to the rest of his head.

“Junk food,” Roman mumbles, as if saying it too loud would make the oil return with a vengeance, “saying bad stuff ‘bout Thomas…unhealthy…gross…”

Remus whips out his phone and sends a text to Logan about food not having a moral weight and how eating something was always better than eating nothing. He gets a text back a few seconds later that just says on it.

“Lolo cavalry is assembled, he’s going.” He tucks the phone away and keeps washing Roman off. “And I’m gonna stay right here until we get all this oil off you, okay? We can even do your thirteen-step skin care routine once it’s gone.”

“It’s not thirteen steps.”

“Whatever you wanna tell me, Roro, at least you’re not as bad as Snakey.”

It’s the first time Roman manages to laugh that day, and Remus makes sure it isn’t the last.

4.

When Patton and Logan have near simultaneous nervous breakdowns after someone calls Thomas lazy, Remus makes sure Virgil’s wrapped around the Mindscape’s padre and Janus has Logan in his little snake den before he goes off in search of Roman.

The Imagination door is covered in cobwebs that retreat as he approaches, a few spiders waving hello as they disappear. He runs his hand over the keyhole, checking to see if it’s just an affectation, or if Roman really hasn’t been using it. He knows he has, is the thing; Roman’s had more projects on the go this month than he’s ever had before and if it weren’t for Janus and Logan dragging him out of it to make sure he didn’t completely lose touch with the Mindscape, he bets his left barnacle that Roman would’ve been living there too just so he wouldn’t miss an opportunity to keep working. And sure enough, the keyhole glows red as soon as his fingers brush it and he carefully pushes the door open.

He walks into the most statistically average middle class sitcom home he’s ever seen. Needless to say, he hates it.

”Ro? Are you here?”

There’s a faint noise coming from what he guesses is the direction of the living room and listen, as little time as he has to spend in this painfully mediocre place, the better. Seriously, he can feel the whispers of white picket fences and PTA meetings lingering ominously over his shoulder with every second he walks through these beige walls. Snatches of TV dialogue becomes audible as he makes his way through the house.

He comes to a stop.

He tilts his head.

There’s certainly a person in the living room, but it doesn’t really look like Roman. They look like every Sunday cartoon about a husband and wife where it’s terribly misogynistic and heteronormative, recliner out, bag of chips in lap, staring vacantly at the TV. It’s only the fact that they’re crying at the paid advertising programs and that Remus would recognize his brother anywhere that he knows it’s Roman.

He sits down on the plastic covered couch and tries not to look at the soulless photos of smiling families perched on the dusty mantle. Roman doesn’t look away from the screen but the hand nearest Remus twitches slightly.

“Hey,” he calls, and Roman’s head turns a little, “hey, Roro. I’m here. It’s gonna be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

The TV blares something about a crockpot that cooks fancier meals than a normal crock pot.

“I know how shitty it is when people accuse you of being lazy. Especially when they’re just complaining that they haven’t seen anything from you.” He shuffles and the couch squeaks. “And we all know how hard you’re working. How hard Thomas is working.”

Roman’s eyes flick to his. Remus smiles and takes his hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze.

“Giving yourself a break isn’t being lazy. Having a hard time doing things isn’t lazy. Not being able to work on something because it’s just covered in the fucking ooze isn’t being lazy. You aren’t being lazy, okay? You wouldn’t even be lazy if you decided you didn’t want to work on any projects for the next year.”

The TV glitches out. Static fills the room and it actually feels like Remus can breathe. He squeezes Roman’s hand again and shifts closer. Roman stares at him with wide eyes.

”I mean it, Roro. You’re not—I know we’ve gone over this and I’ll keep giving you crowbars for as long as you need them—“

The smallest smile appears on Roman’s face.

“—but you’re not—your worth isn’t in what products or content you can make. You know i love you because you’re my brother, because you’re funny and clever and ridiculous and there’s no one I’d rather make stuff with. You could decide that you don’t want anything to do with Thomas’s career anymore—“

Roman makes a devastated noise.

“Calm down, calm down, I know that’s not true, I’m just spouting a wild hypothetical, okay? If you decided to do that and I made sure it was really you and you hadn’t lost some sort of bet, then yeah, I’d still want you to be my brother. We’d still do stuff. I don’t give a shit what everyone else thinks.”

”…promise?”

Remus could sob with relief at actually hearing Roman’s voice come out, and he grins so wide his cheeks start to hurt. “I promise, Roro, I promise. You’re not lazy, you’re resting, and even if you were, I wouldn’t care.”

‘’M not trying to be lazy. It’s—I’m just—“

“Shh, shh, Roro, it’s okay,” The bag of chips falls to the ground and catches fire as Remus tugs his brother into his arms. “I’m right here. You’re doing so good, okay? Thomas is too.”

Remus doesn’t burn the house down because he’s had too many lectures from Janus about that, but he does get a big cartoon wrecking ball to smash the whole thing into smithereens.

He does burn the recliner though. And the plastic-covered couch. They deserved it.

5.

The latex gloves snap on as Roman sits on the edge of the tub with a grunt. He picks up the rest of the kit and sets it on the stool.

”Do you know what it’s about this time?”

“Someone said something about how immature Thomas is being about criticism and how he can’t take care of things, something like that.”

“Why did it manifest as acne, then?”

”I don’t know, maybe something about how teenagers who are hormonal and don’t really know how to take care of their skin get acne?”

Remus snorts. “Do people still not understand that acne happens and can happen to anyone regardless of age?”

‘Apparently not.”

“Well, they can go lick the Kraken’s crack.”

“Ew, Remus.”

“Just trying to keep the mood light.” He picks up one of the cotton swabs and a paper towel and leans down. “I’m gonna try and clean up some of the wet stuff first, okay? Then we can actually get onto some relief.”

“You’re not gonna pop any of them, are you?”

“I don’t think so. At least not right now.”

”Because I really don’t want this to scar.”

Remus hums, carefully running the swab over a particularly inflamed part of his cheek. “Can you give me a pain rating?”

”Like a 6? It’s not that bad but it’s not a pain I’m used to it’s…freaking me out.”

“Understandable, have a nice day. If it ever gets too much, let me know and we’ll switch to a cool pack, okay?”

Roman hums as Remus goes to work. A pile of discarded swabs and other trash accumulates at Remus’s elbow as he works patiently around the various, uh, ‘zones.’ They have to stop a few times when it gets to a point where Roman’s whole face just aches, waiting for it to subside enough that Remus can keep going.

“There are a couple down here that look like they’re ready to go, do you want me to just get ‘em out?”

”Be careful.”

“Sure, yeah. If it starts to hurt lemme know and I’ll back off right away.”

He gets a few of them, a few more putting up too much of a fight so he leaves them be. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Roman heroically stop two or three whimpers before he lightly jabs him in the stomach and tells him to knock that posturing shit off, he doesn’t need it here.

“…thanks, Re.”

“I told you, it hurts too much, I stop.”

“I know.” He shifts on the tub. “I think it’s just…hard to remember.”

Remus frowns, glancing up at him. Roman fiddles with the hem of his prince costume.

“You know…with the others?”

”No. I don’t know, Ro.”

“They don’t—they’re—they want Princey, Prince Roman. Not…the rest of this.” He waves his hand to indicate the cotton carnage. “So it’s hard to…”

He trails off when he sees the expression on Remus’s face.

“What?”

”You mean they don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“That this—“ he waves at Roman— “happens to you. Any of it.”

“I mean, they know I’m the Ego and it makes sense that I get hurt when Thomas feels bad, but—“

”But not how much.” Roman won’t meet his gaze. “Fuck, Ro.”

“…it’s complicated.”

“Shit, no, I’m not—look at me, Ro. I’m not mad at you. I’m just—this wasn’t what I’d hoped.”

Roman frowns. “What do you mean, what you hoped?”

Remus sighs. This is turning into way more of a conversation than he’d ever anticipated. Glancing around, he picks up the cold pack and hands to to Roman before taking a seat on the counter. His legs swing and kick at the cabinets with a quiet thunk-thunk, thunk-thunk.

“When the Split happened, and we went to the Dark Sides, I…dunno, I guess I thought it would be…better.”

“Because we were separated?”

“What? No, no, because I had the stuff like Deceit and Anxiety with me, so they couldn’t make any of this stuff worse—not that they would,” he says when Roman opens his mouth to protest, and wow, have they come a long way, “but just ‘cause…well, yeah. You had Logic and Morality, who were—doesn’t that make sense? That they would be able to help?”

Roman sighs. He picks at the edge of the ice pack. “It’s not that simple.”

“Then explain it to me.”

“Logan’s thing is object impermanence, you know that.” Remus winces in sympathy. “But having someone tell you something isn’t real when you can feel it and it is real, to you, that’s not…that’s not helpful. It’s better if he just goes right to Thomas than coming to me.”

“And Patton?”

Roman lets out a humorless huff. “Thomas is feeling bad and Patton is Thomas’s feelings. How do you think that normally goes?”

…yeah, probably not great.

“It’s not all bad,” he continues, softer now, “they’re at least good when I tell them I don’t want to be disturbed. They don’t ask questions if I tell them I don’t want to talk about it.”

“That feels suspiciously like the bare minimum.” Roman shrugs. “I know I literally just said the opposite, but do Janus and Virgil…?”

“They’re both better at comforting the others. It’s okay, Re, I have you. I really only want you when it’s…bad like this.”

“Me? Why?”

“You get it.”

Remus chuckles, getting back up and picking up the next tool. “That simple, huh?”

“Sometimes it’s just that simple.”

”Aw, I love you too, Roro. You’re the specialist baby brother any Side could ever ask for.”

“You—what the hell do you mean, ‘baby brother?’”

“You’re the baby brother.”

“I am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. Now hush so I don’t accidentally poke your eye out.”

“I’m gonna get you back for this.”

“Oh, I’m so scared about that. Now hold still, Roro, let’s get this out of the way so you can feel better.”

“…love you.”

“I love you too.”

+1.

The Imagination is upset. Roman feels it the second he steps foot through the door and forgoes his normal prince costume for a rougher tunic and boots, strapping his sword to his hip and an emergency pack to his back. The wind blows frigid and punishing over the grass as he starts down the trail, squinting through the dust clouds whipping up around him. The clouds frown around the edges of the tree line, darkening to a stormy black near the edge of the coast. As he nears the black cliffs, rocks crumble beneath him and tumble into a churning sea.

He edges carefully around the craggy rock face, keeping his movements light and careful. Spray whips him in the face as thunder rolls in the distance. The chill near rips his fingers from their precarious handholds. He grits his teeth and keeps going, even as the wind howl so loudly his ears near split from the pain.

There, a little ways down the cliff, is a small cove. He inches his way around the edge of the bluff and drops onto a larger path leading him along the coast. There isn’t any sand here, only rough and unyielding stone. Froth and foam given them gleaming white teeth as the waves churn furiously around the mouth of the sea. He follows the path down, down towards he massive cracks in the sheer rock face, one eye on the black water below him. Despite being so close to the shore, there’s no sign of a bottom and he doesn’t want to risk how deep it is. There’s no telling what current might rip him into the open ocean if he falls in.

The cove is shaped like a spear’s point, the crack in the cliff at its very point as though some massive weapon had shattered the rocks themselves. As Roman nears it, the shadow at the base of the path slowly grows more and more defined, until he realizes that it’s a path through the cliff. The cove is an inlet leading into a hidden sea cave with a vast black lake in its center. Roman peers up at the glistening wet walls, hand on the wall as the wind whistles angrily by.

The water moves. He looks down. Something massive slips just underneath the surface, sending ripples to the shore. He crouches down and sees a huge shape getting closer and closer to the surface. An eye the size of a dining table glares up at him through the water and long arms with rows and rows of hooks reach up toward him.

“Ollie, it’s me. It’s Roman.”

The Kraken pause. The hooked arms retreat and he pokes his head up, letting out a mournful burble. Roman reaches over and taps the water. One of his other arms comes up and Roman pets soothingly along the skin.

“What’s the matter, buddy? What’s going on?”

Ollie burbles again and Roman suddenly realizes why the hooked arms were the ones to reach for him. Beneath the surface, the Kraken’s arms form a cradle of sorts, holding something close to the Kraken’s massive body. As the water shifts and ripples, the thing comes closer and closer to surface, slowly moving to reveal its precious cargo.

And there, nestled in the Kraken’s grip, covered in his own writhing tentacles, is Remus.

“Oh, Re,” Roman murmurs as his brother twitches and whimpers, “what happened? Who did this?”

Ollie burbles again, holding him out, and Roman balances on the edge of the shoreline and stretches to hold on. The Kraken lifts him up and into the cradle too, letting him touch Remus’s frigid skin and shake him awake.

“Re? Re, wake up, it’s okay, I’m here to help.”

The tentacles writhe as Remus stirs, blinking through a pained haze up at Roman. “…Ro?”

“Hey, Re, it’s me. It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay. What happened?”

“Thoughts got too loud.” A tentacle leaves a thick trail of slime across his arm and he shudders. “Sorry.”

“What could you have to be sorry for?”

“‘S gross.”

“You stop that,” Roman chides gently, running his fingers through Remus’s wet hair, “I don’t care if something’s gross, I care if it’s hurting you.”

Remus whimpers, clutching at one of Ollie’s arms. The Kraken squeaks back, trying in vain to warm him up, but there’s only so much he can do in this freezing cave. Roman glances around and bites his lip.

“Does it feel better in the water? Is that why you came down here?”

“Yeah. Ollie came and f-found me.”

Roman pats the worried Kraken. “What do we need to do? Is it like caring for Ollie’s arms?”

“N-no. Like helping the jelly—jellyfish with the twisted—twisted ones.”

He’ll bet just about anything that this frigid water isn’t helping Remus do that, and it’s not like Ollie has opposable thumbs. He goes to slide into the water himself but Ollie chirps in alarm, hoisting them higher.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m trying to help.“

Remus shakes his head, more slime trailing across his shivering body. “Too cold for you.”

“Well, then it’s definitely too cold for you. Can we get you somewhere warmer?” Remus curls up a little more. “What about that pool near the glowstone trees?”

“That’s all the way on your side.”

“Ollie can take you. I’ll meet you over there.” Remus stays quiet. Roman leans down and brushes the wet hair from his eyes. “What else is bothering you, Re?”

Two of the tentacles glob onto Roman and start leaving trails of slime across his tunic. Remus whimpers and reaches out a hand to yank them away. It’s no use; the roiling mass just keeps smearing slime onto Roman as they try to pull him closer, no matter how hard Remus shoves them away.

Oh.

Oh.

“Re, you’re not too gross. You’re not going to ruin anything. I want you to come with me so I can help you. I care about you. Let me help, please?”

It takes a painfully long moment for Remus to peek up at him and nod. Roman can’t stop the way his shoulders sag in relief and he sits up, patting Ollie’s arm as the Kraken burbles happily.

“You…you really wanna help?”

“Of course I wanna help you, Re, you’re my brother.”

“Okay.”

“Have Ollie take you over to the pool, okay? I’ll meet you there.”

“How are you gonna get there?”

“I have my ways.”

Remus grumbles and he sounds just enough like his normal self that Roman has to reach down and ruffle his hair, no matter how much Remus squawks about it. He climbs back off to the shore and watches Ollie sinks below the surface before he makes his way out to the ocean proper. Taking the charm from beneath his tunic, he closes his eyes and concentrates.

A screaming cry and the massive thudding of wings splits the wind.

Roman’s dragon lands just on the other side of the bluffs and he climbs on, taking off and soaring over the stormy sea. The dragon calls out over the waves and far beneath, he can see the shape of Ollie swimming through the depths. The clouds begin to part as they near the opposite coast, sun rays splitting the worst of the storm as the glowing trees appear on the horizon.

Roman’s dragon sets him down just on the edge of the shimmering pool. He pats its snout and it huffs, lying down on the sun-warmed grass and closing its eyes. As he walks toward the pool and begins to take off his boots, he spots Ollie’s shade moving through the inlet into the warmer water. He chuckles at the way the water vibrates with the Kraken’s pleased rumble.

Clad in just his boxers, he slips into the water and through the tangle of arms to draw Remus into the warmth. Remus immediately tuns and clings to him like a limpet, shivering from the temperature change.

“I know, I know,” Roman murmurs as he starts to work his hands patiently through the mass of tentacles, “just hold onto me. I can still kind of stand here, I’ve got you.”

”You gonna take care of me?”

“Yeah, Re, I’m gonna take care of you.”

He’s rewarded with a sleepy hum and Remus snuggles into him. “You’re the best.”

“No, you’re the best. The best baby brother anyone could ever ask for.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

Remus might mutter an am not back, but it’s muffled by his tired slump into Roman’s arms. Roman just chuckles. He’s sure it’ll come up again at some point.

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#sanders sides #fic #dragonbabbles #roman sanders #roman angst #roman sanders angst #remus sanders #sympathetic remus

[elftwink]

got a text from my coworker apologizing that she accidentally outed me to another coworker and i am not sure how to respond because on the one hand theres not really a safety issue and if there is fallout im pretty sure its handlable and the most likely outcome is literally nothing happens. like one of our other coworkers is openly nonbinary so this is not a stealth-necessary work environment and i have often considered coming out to coworkers with the main reason i havent being because i dont want to put the effort in to talk to everyone LOL. and the coworker who outed me is a pretty good friend and i know it was an accident and she feels bad so like i dont really want her to beat herself up about it or for it to reflect badly on our relationship

but on the other hand im not sure how to convey that without saying something like "no worries" or "you're fine" or otherwise minimizing what she did, which i dont want to do because despite there not being a safety issue it is kind of upsetting and nerve wracking. like i just dont have control over a situation where i previously did have control & there isnt a way to put that back the way it was. and i don't know exactly what our other coworker has been told either, or how he reacted, or anything really, so i just sort of have to wait until sunday to see if he says anything or treats me differently (the latter of which i think is extremely likely; not that he'll be directly bigoted, but ive talked to this coworker about trans stuff before and the conversations have been... ill informed and very exhausting. usually i just try to end them as fast as possible because i dont get paid enough to have a difficult conversation with someone who knows nothing but thinks they are an expert, especially when i am the only one of us with any personal experience).

she already feels bad and i dont want to make her feel worse (she's my friend!), but i also don't like being put in the position where i have to comfort her about the thing that she did to me. i know this isn't what she intended like i firmly believe this is a good faith apology, i just dont know how to respond to it in a way that doesn't involve saying it's okay. and i don't want to say it's okay because it really is not okay.

(the other thing also, which just has to do with the general atmosphere of transphobia and not my coworkers apology, is i find that i am usually expected to say everythings fine when something transphobic happens to me, lest i be painted as the evil and unreasonable transgendered who isnt willing to let people make mistakes and rules my tyrannical pronoun kingdom with an iron fist. or whatever. i dont think my coworker would react this way, but years and years of people misgendering/outing/saying transphobic things and then crying to me as though they're the victim and reacting extremely negatively if i did not dry their tears and reassure them that They're A Good Person, Really... it weighs on you. there's an unspoken expectation that you will be endlessly tolerant and forgiving, and an accompanying resentment or anger if you don't fulfill that expectation. even when people aren't getting angry at you, you still flinch from the times people were, and you still try to temper your reaction based on the possibility they will react badly. difficult to have honest and genuine conversations in that environment!)

#good idea generator #transphobia / #://///// now i gotta reply to this goddamn text message i guess!