#entry handle

[skinmerchant]

Front Door Mudroom in Orange County Mid-sized minimalist concrete floor, gray floor and wood ceiling entryway photo with white walls and a light wood front door

[uzurakis]

knock knock ૮₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶₎ა

kiara . . . imagine kaiser as a dad ૮₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶₎ა ( a girldad specifically . . . he has three-four little girls :< )

i could swear to god that he had never considered being willing to have children in his life. having experienced abuse as a child, he veered away from the concept of a family and even from love itself. kaiser who’s not interested in building a family because he doesn't know any better and has never experienced a stable family. in fact, he doesn't even consider ending the trauma; he just doesn't give a damn anymore. he has no faith in love or miracles.

but suddenly, he found himself here, with three beautiful daughters who looked at him with eyes full of love and admiration. they were a constant reminder of a life he had never imagined for himself, and yet, they filled a void he hadn’t known existed.

he watched as his youngest daughter, barely three years old, toddled towards him with a giggle, her tiny hands reaching out for him. he gently scooped her up, fearing it might break, but her warmth against his chest soothed him down. her laughter was infectious, and despite himself, a smile tugged at his lips.

your voice called out from the kitchen, “michael, can you help with the twins? they’re arguing over the crayons again.”

kaiser sighed, but there was no real frustration behind it. “alright, i’m coming, mein liebling,” he replied, setting down the youngest and heading towards the living room where the chaos was in full swing.

when you joined him in the living room, you gave him a knowing smile. “you’re doing great, you know.”

but he shook his head, his eyes reflecting the turmoil of his past. “i never thought i’d be here,” he admitted quietly, showing another vulnerability of his. “i never thought i’d have a family, let alone be any good at this.”

you took his hand, squeezing it gently. “none of us know what we’re doing at first. but look at them, mein mann. they’re happy, and they love you. you’re their hero. du bist unser held.”

a lump formed in his throat, and he swallowed hard, unable to speak for a moment. “i just… i never had this,” he finally said. “i don’t know how to be a good father.”

“you are a good father, michael,” you insisted, eyes filled with conviction. “you’re here, you love them, and you try every day. that’s more than enough.”

he looked at you, his wife, the one who had seen through his walls and loved him despite everything. “i don’t deserve you,” he whispered.

you smiled, leaning in to kiss him softly. “you deserve all the happiness in the world, michael. and you deserve this family.”

[6okuto]

Vere x GN!Reader on the anniversary of a loved one's death

CW: depression symptoms (not eating, staying in bed, isolation), grieving (very vague)

hope you're doing ok nonnie & that this is sort of what you were looking for.. ^^

The stillness of your room is suffocating.

Lying in bed, your eyes hone onto floating dust, the shirts you failed to put away properly, the shifting sun rays as clouds block their path—anything but the calendar hanging on the far wall. You don’t need to check the date. You know it as well as you know your name. 

“There’s a performance happening this evening.”

Vere’s voice jolts you, his footsteps quiet as he enters your room. They would’ve been silent if he wasn’t wearing his pair of slippers that match yours at the foot of your bed, unmoved since last night.

“I’ve seen this troupe before. Their harpist isn’t quite as skilled as your favourite, but they play well with the lutist,” he continues until he’s sitting on your bedside with a plate of sliced fruit.

Your eyes flicker to the other plate he left for lunch, half untouched, and you nearly tuck yourself further into the covers already pulled to your chin.

Vere’s own gaze slides toward it, and worry flickers across his expression before he tucks it away, wordlessly switching the dishes.

“I’m okay.”

Your voice has his head nearly snapping toward you. The sensation of speaking almost feels unnatural, and your words comes out a little croaky. Clearing your throat, you try again. “I’m okay.”

Vere’s ear twitches, and his tail slows to rest over your knee as he cocks his head. His eyes are searching, but kind in the way you’ve gotten to know them. “Is that a response to the troupe, or the food?”

Your response, now, is silence.

His own follows in turn.

Nothing about his gaze changes, but the searching sensation suddenly feels sour, churns whatever’s in your stomach over and in on itself like being hungry for the food on the plate might stave his attention.

“I’m okay, Vere.” You shift, falling further into the pillow. “Thank you. You can leave if you want.”

“And if I don’t?”

“...Sorry?”

His tail slides across the covers, its warmth permeating through. “You’re not okay.”

You wince at the bluntness, and Vere’s eyes soften along with his tone. “You’re not.” He says your name, and something clutches your chest and squeezes.

“Don’t lie and say that you are,”—he puts the old plate beside the new one and slides into bed, allowed as you shift backward—“not to me.”

His tail finds its spot across your thighs, his arms around your back as he tucks your face into the crook of his neck. Your hands and arms hover awkwardly at chest-level, caught off guard.

Vere’s cologne—the one you like best, the one that he sprays on date nights before sending a flirty smirk—wraps around your figure, its own blanket with his hold.

A hand starts to rub your back, and your eyes begin to sting. Finally moving to hug him, you clutch the back of his top and bury further into him like it might protect you. Stop everything, fix everything.

And you think, know, Vere will hold you like this for a long time. Hesitantly, you ask, “Don’t you have work today?”

“No.” He presses a kiss to your head and hums. “I’m taking the day off.”

“Since when could you do that?”

“Since now.”

Vere’s response manages to pull a breathy laugh from you, and you think you feel him smile against you.

His figure blocks the calendar from your vision completely.

“I miss them.”

Vere stills for half a second before his soothing continues. Your lips wobble and the stinging in your eyes finally manifests as salty tears in their corners. “I miss them a lot.”

You don’t know if Vere’s ever dealt with something similar; it’s something you’ve never broached before, and maybe you will in the future. But for now, at least, experience or not, he holds you.

The words and memories that resurfaced with every day leading to now start to spill out of you, a flood that hits Vere’s red maple, a tsunami against mangrove.

He holds you and listens to every story, smiles when you do, pulls you closer when you start to choke up. He dismisses your apologies for his tear-stained fabric and skin, and coaxes you to speak when you can, to breathe.

At some point, you both sit up as the sun sets against colourful roofs. The fruit beside your bed aren’t as fresh as they were before, but you reach for them anyway.

Vere raises a brow as you pick up the plate. “There are more fruit that aren’t nearly as stale, you know.”

You shrug and fork the first piece. “I don’t want these to go to waste.”

He huffs affectionately but pulls the plate away. The fruit sits still in your mouth as you shoot him a look, and he snorts at your filled cheek. “You don’t need to worry about that. These will be filling market stalls for days, I’d barely make a dent cutting up a dozen.”

Standing up, Vere stretches his arms and legs. “Besides, I don’t think these ones were ripe enough. Stay there, I’ll be back.”

Swallowing the slice you managed to take, you ask, “Can I come?”

Your question makes him pause.

The stillness in your bedroom isn’t as suffocating anymore, and you think you’ll sleep better tonight than you have been the past week. But your legs start to move before you can talk yourself out of it, feet finding their place in your slippers finally warmed by something other than the sun.

Vere watches, tail flicking side to side. Once you’re ready, he smiles, eyes filled with something between affection and pride. “I guess I won’t stop you.”

[starflungwaddledee]

from: @starflungwaddledee to: @post-it-notes7

message from santa: "happy holidays post-it-notes! 🎄🥳 i know you very politely only wished for a few modest things- characters high fiving, or struggling in christmas attire- but i hope you'll still enjoy this given that i kinda went the opposite direction entirely! i'm an enormous fan of your work and most times you post anything i wind up browsing your art tag from tip-to-tail in enraptured delight. as such, i thought it was only fair i give back something a little more significant in gratitude for all the joy your work has given me. i knew i wanted to do a comic, so i was thrilled you already had a whole storyverse for me to work from!! this scene seemed the most obvious choice (chapter 8 of "wishful thinking" on ao3) given that i enjoy a dramatic fight scene 😂 i tried to stick as beat-by-beat to the writing as i could and worked in as many details as possible; i hope it'll be fun to see it envisioned this way! merry christmas! ~starflung 🎀🔔 "

[bluegarners]

it's not that i don't think tim would be appropriately horrified if he saw the physical fights bruce and dick have had bc tim has seen enough of perpetrated-by-bruce violence in his tenure, however! i do think tim is more so shocked to see how often bruce is the one that throws the first punch and how often dick is the one who "wins" but is still the one who leaves. dick isn't a doormat but he allows himself to be walked on like that only for bruce, but tim has only ever known dick to be the more individualistic person that doesn't take that kind of disrespect, Except when it's an emotionally distressed bruce that only calms down after he has enacted violence on someone he thinks can handle it- which dick can and does so very often and still comes back

[tteokdoroki]

‘Gojo is racist’ ‘gojo is a bad person’ ‘gojo is this’ ‘gojo is that’ did we ever consider that none of what gege has written recently goes past surface level ? he is not a good writer. he has said multiple times he doesn’t care about jjk anymore. there are hardly any deeper meanings to character deaths/actions. he’s just trying to fill the space until the manga can end at an acceptable length ☹️☝️

[moregraceful]

Okay i can't complain anymore bc in group today they were like what do you when you are angry and i said i text at least 2 group chats and complain to everyone on the internet and then i get angrier and stay angry for at least the rest of the day, sometimes a couple days. And they said, hmm i don't know if that is really the most appropriate coping mechanism for you.

So anyway we must pivot, everyone tell me about the hottest person you have ever interacted with in real life that made you act like a fool....

I'll go first, one time i was eating brunch at a bar and a hot butch bartender with multiple ear piercings and tattoos all over her arms called me honey and I nearly passed out and then tipped like 100% of my bill. And one time I made a really really handsome short guy with a beard and tattoos at work laugh and I almost gave him a student discount and he wouldn't let me and walked away grinning.

[softpine]

she's looking especially sacrificial lamb today 🥩

[rainbow-demon503]

my process thusly

witness the ghost craze after the game comes out and recognise that masked men are hot.

what the hell, I'll check out his r34 tag

huh this is some nice art

huh he gets shipped mainly with soap it seems? I like the dynamic I'm seeing

Oh wow this one comic is actually kinda sad and not really that pornographic at all

oh wow there's a few of these that are actually really touching

ok what the hell I'll check it out on Tumblr (at this point I haven't even looked at the game on steam. and probably never will buy or play it)

wait hold on soap DIES???

oh no I'm invested in the tragedy of it all now

[thehornylibrarian]

Feeling the desperate urge to go camping over the weekend but it’s supposed to be raining all day Sunday. Will this stop me? Stay tuned

[chimera-crimewave]

If I knew how to edit videos at all I would love to make a video essay on BoTW + ToTK and how it helps players process grief.

Both games do an astounding job of capturing why it’s so damn hard to let go of the past, how different people handle loss, and how death of the body doesn’t necessarily mean influence + impact dies with the person.

Doing the final grind for ending ToTK is making me feel and think about a lot of things ;;;

[possamble]

Grits my teeth

[girl-bateman]

I often forget I have an iron stomach while my bf is a weakling, but now he is toppled over in food poisoning pains, doing sad puppy dog sounds, while I'm sitting here doing my wordle without a care in the world

[squarebracketsmileyface]

Thinking about Jam again and how angsty I can make the next fic after My Girl

Found this on a discord server I'm on lol and immediately went "me and the urge to make angst as angsty as possible"

[seventhdoctor]

Yugioh GX season 1 is so funny when you watch with the knowledge that the protag has a secondhand bodycount that only the principal knows about.

The kid with a secondhand bodycount is applying to your school? Sure, but he only gets in if he makes the grade - but oh no, his train is late and your elitist teacher is trying to reject him before he even gets a chance? Well, maybe you can grease the wheels a bit.

Your elitist teacher is openly cackling about the matched he rigged to get the kid with a secondhand bodycount expelled? Do nothing, say nothing. Make a snippy comment when the kid with a secondhand bodycount wins anyway.

Need some top-tier duelists to protect the keys to unleashing the god cards lite? Okay, maybe the kid with a secondhand bodycount does make sense here. Or it could still be a terrible idea.

...

...

...You know what? Originally I left it here for the joke but actually no, I'm gonna pull out my tinfoil hat and talk about the other kid at DA with a dueling bodycount. No, not Hell Kaiser. Not the abandoned dorm stuff. Not any of the kids who hold seances to summon duel spirits for a winter horror episode or anything. I mean:

Motegi, AKA Belowski. The season 1 opponent who's introduced for a one-off episode and then left to cameo a couple times in the rest of the series, mostly in crowd shots. He's at DA as late as the series finale, at which point he's been a student for six years (Judai's first year is his fourth). And he might be there even longer! I'm not even sure he's even allowed to graduate, as opposed to being indefinitely contained at Duel Academia.

If Judai still had Yubel around when he started at Duel Academia, and they were found to be causing problems...would Judai be isolated the same way Motegi does? It's not like DA has the resources to actually handle their spirit problems, and yet the resources it does have make it a better place than most to keep them in the meantime.

GX has a lot of weird one-off episodes whose implications are never fully explored but the Motegi episode stuck with me, so much that I wrote a whole fic as a baby GX fan trying to imagine what his deal was. Now in the year 2k23 I'm looking at this and wondering what his situation could have suggested for Judai's fate if his spirit/dueling bodycount problem hadn't taken a couple more years to rear its head...

[alienfailboy]

"we need more weird people/queers"

y'all can barely handle cis women with body hair...