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[susannaius]

I made this a long time ago but for some reason never posted! It is my quick guide to protecting yourself against burnout as a person with ADHD and ASD.

Of course it is all about meeting your support needs at the end of the day, which are completely individual and may vary over time, but this could function as a guide if you have a hard time figuring out where to start! 🫶🏻 💙💙💙

[susannaius]

Page 11 of my Miraculous Mentor AU comic A Matter of Trust! In which the new and very competent Chat Noir holds his own against Mr. Pigeon and does NOT get his tail handed to him by a bunch of birds! But Adrien can speak cat. 💀🪦

Index | Prev | Next (coming soon!)

Weekly updates each Sunday! You can also read ahead early on Patreon, and/or buy me a Ko-fi if you'd like to support my work! 💖

[susannaius]

Let me rephrase, what gave you the idea to call it “good omens”?

We had to call it something. Terry suggested "The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch" and I suggested "Good Omens" so we compromised and called it both.

I wanted something about prophecies, and something to let people know we were parodying The Omen.

[susannaius]

Dune + Text posts 2/?, Messiah Parenting with Lady Jessica

[susannaius]

Tiffany couldn't quite work out how Miss Level got paid. Certainly the basket she carried filled up more than it emptied. They'd walk past a cottage and a woman would come scurrying out with a fresh-baked loaf or a jar of pickles, even though Miss Level hadn't stopped there. But they'd spend an hour somewhere else, stitching up the leg of a farmer who'd been careless with an axe, and get a cup of tea and a stale biscuit. 

It didn't seem fair.

“Oh, it evens out,” said Miss Level, as they walked on through the woods. 

“You do what you can. People give what they can, when they can. Old Slapwick there, with the leg, he's as mean as a cat, but there'll be a big cut of beef on my doorstep before the week's end, you can bet on it. His wife will see to it. And pretty soon people will be killing their pigs for the winter, and I'll get more brawn, ham, bacon and sausages turning up than a family could eat in a year.”

“You do? What do you do with all that food?”

“Store it,” said Miss Level. 

“But you-”

“I store it in other people. It's amazing what you can store in other people.” Miss Level laughed at Tiffany's expression. “I mean, I take what I don't need round to those who don't have a pig, or who're going through a bad patch, or who don't have anyone to remember them.”

“But that means they'll owe you a favour!”

“Right! And so it just keeps on going round. It all works out.”

“I bet some people are too mean to pay-”

“Not pay,” said Miss Level, severely. “A witch never expects payment and never asks for it and just hopes she never needs to. But, sadly, you are right.”

“And then what happens?"

“What do you mean?”

“You stop helping them, do you?”

“Oh, no,” said Miss Level, genuinely shocked. “You can't not help people just because they're stupid or forgetful or unpleasant. Everyone's poor round here. If I don't help them, who will?”

"A Hat full of Sky" - Terry Pratchett

[susannaius]

There are currently ~2300 works in AO3 tagged with "Created Using Generative AI"

I'll be upfront with my opinion, which mirrors my opinion in regards to my field: using AI will only hasten your own obsolescence. The point of fanfiction is not to crank out fics, but rather to enjoy the hobby and communities of writing and fandom.

[susannaius]

“We chose the term “asexual” to describe ourselves because both “celibate” and “anti-sexual” have connotations we wished to avoid: the first implies that one has sacrificed sexuality for some higher good, the second that sexuality is degrading or somehow inherently bad. “Asexual”, as we use it, does not mean “without sex” but “relating sexually to no one”. This does not, of course, exclude masturbation but implies that if one has sexual feelings they do not require another person for their expression. Asexuality is, simply, self-contained sexuality.”

— The Asexual Manifesto, Lisa Orlando and Barbara Getz, 1972

[susannaius]

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Stories

Previous

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I’m having a spirited debate and need a larger sample size

[susannaius]

MONKEY MAN (2024)

[susannaius]

AU where the Justice League forms like usual, except Batman maintained his “totally a myth” status and has in fact been active for years before the JL forms. He’s very cautious about trusting them, but still joins, and the others sort of accepts that as long as they trust that Batman has a really hard time with trust, it will all work out in its own weird way

Then, one day, in the middle of a JL mission, the League gets in a tight spot. Out of nowhere, this blue and black blur swoops in and saves everyone’s ass. Maybe breaking some shackles that were proving very difficult, maybe disarm a bomb that the League was just a hair’s breadth too slow to reach without help, but whatever happens, the shadowy figure pauses just long enough to say, “Hey, Batman, you know you there are these things called cellphones now and you can just call sometimes, it doesn’t have to be this dramatic?” and bounds away after shouting ‘let’s do brunch! Bring your new friends!’

Batman is mortified.

No one lets it go.

The entire rest of the mission, the whole League is asking so many questions. Who was that? Do you know him? How do you know him? What’s going on? I didn’t know there was a vigilante in this area?? They don’t let up until he talks.

“That was Nightwing.” Batman is mumbling. The JL forces him to bring them to the Brunch. Brunch happens to be in a run-down apartment on the edge of a bad neighborhood, at five in the morning, in costume. Nightwing introduces himself as Batman’s lovechild with justice.

“I did not realize Batman had a child,” Martian Manhunter says, calmly enough that no one’s sure if he’s accidentally plucking a really loud thought out of the air or if he’s trying to make a joke.

Nightwing stares for a moment falling over laughing. He doesn’t get up. Batman starts trying to apply anti-Joker venom but Nightwing just kicks him and laughs until he cries. He keeps trying to wipe his eyes and his mask keeps getting in the way, so he asks everyone to leave so he can please get a hold of himself

He is still laughing when they leave. Everyone is confused. Batman is furious.  Nightwing manages to breathe long enough to say, “We’re just so glad you’re socializing now, Batman.”

Superman turns to look at Batman very slowly. “…’we’?”

Keep reading

[susannaius]

I genuinely believe that some people could encounter a button that says “if you push this button everyone in the world has the opportunity to live a better life and your life remains exactly the same” and they would not push it.

They’d be like “well that button’s not fair to me, though,” even though there’s literally no other buttons around and nothing newly bad would happen to them if the button was pushed.

[susannaius]

Read Confessions on Ao3 Rating: G for General Audiences Word Count: 1.4K

An Adrinette Post-Reveal fic, where someone brings up Catwalker

Her fingers slide through his hair like she’s untangling silk threads. She thinks she should have made the Adrien-is-Chat-Noir connection sooner, given how many times she’s slid her hands through his hair both in and out of costume. She’s never quite gotten over how smooth it is. She’d told herself that with Chat it was just the magic, and with Adrien, she’d imagined copious bottles of product—only come to find out, it was both.

His head rests in her lap, and his eyes hidden behind his forearm. His fingers fidget absentmindedly with one of her hair ties, and his lanky legs are propped up against her wall, jeans sliding off to show just a bit of bare ankle. She’s pressed back into her own mountain of pillows, and she thinks how nice it is to have afternoons like this together. No more chasing down villains, no more battles, no more secrets.

“Kim as the monkey was an inspired choice,” Adrien says. “He’s about as chaotic as Plagg.”

Marinette laughs softly. “I think that was Master Fu’s choice, not mine.”

“How do you decide who the right choice is?” Adrien pulls his arm from his face and looks up at her. Pensive curiosity flits through his determined green gaze. “Like, Nino’s really protective, so Carapace makes sense, but Alya’s all about truth and justice, right? Lies and illusion don’t make a lot of sense for her.”

Marinette tips her head back and stares at the trapdoor above her bed. “I didn’t think Ladybug made sense for me. She’s so brave and cunning and determined… I’ve always been a coward and pretty hapless and helpless.”

“I think you’re brave and determined.”

“You’ve only known be since becoming Ladybug. I’ve grown a lot.”

“Chat Noir made perfect sense for me.”

Marinette laughs, jostling Adrien, and when she looks back down at him he’s glaring up at her.

“You don’t think so?” he says flatly.

“It’s not that,” she laughs again. “I mean, it does make sense—now anyway. But not how you used to be, you know, around other people.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Just that you’ve changed, too.”

“I was always like this,” he protests. “I just pretended to be someone else for a long time.”

“So you weren’t a handsome, charming, polite and kind friend all those years?”

“Chat Noir is all of those things.”

“Charming is stretching it.”

Adrien wrinkles his nose, and it only makes Marinette laugh more.

“Who was Scarabella, anyway?” Adrien asks, unsubtly changing the subject.

Marinette has to take a moment to compose her giggles. “That was Alya.”

“Ah, of course. She did a good job, but she certainly was no replacement for you.”

Marinette bites her cheek, hoping he can’t see her blush. The hardest thing about dating Adrien after the reveal has been listening to him praise her as Ladybug. She had never quite felt comfortable hearing him praise Ladybug before, and now that he knows the truth, it’s worse, as if knowing both of her identities has somehow doubled the intensity of the compliments.

She unsubtly reaches for a subject change of her own. “And what about Catwalker? You picked him, didn’t you? Or was that Plagg?”

Adrien glances away, tipping his head back for a better gaze of her pinboard that is no longer just Gabriel ads, but has grown to include photos with friends and pictures from several of their date nights, and a few even of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

“Catwalker was—well…” His brow furrows as he searches for the answer. She can’t fathom why it’s so hard for him to explain if he knows, but finally he says, “I was Catwalker.”

Marinette laughs again. “What do you mean you were Catwalker?”

“Well—you didn’t need Chat Noir around, and Plagg didn’t want another holder, so we… we figured something else out.”

Her hands go still in his hair. “You know I always need you, right, minou?”

His eyes are still on her corkboard. “You didn’t need Catwalker.”

“It was more like I couldn’t function with Catwalker. I… I liked you too much. You were so careful, so polite, so put together and charming… I couldn’t even think straight, just like all those times I couldn’t talk to you at school. You just made my brain stop working! I couldn’t be Ladybug if I was too busy thinking about kissing you.”

She hopes he’ll sit up for a kiss, but he still doesn’t move. His gaze remains distant.

“Catwalker was based on the person I would always pretend to be. The person my father wanted me to be.”

Marinette understands rather suddenly where she misstepped. She bites down on her tongue, holding back a stuttered apology. She can’t say she didn’t mean it, or it wasn’t true, because it all was and still is. She loves Adrien, and a lot of “Adrien” has been made to please his father. She understands now why he had pouted when she’d said he was so different from Chat Noir.

She runs her fingers through his hair again with a bit more intention to the contact between them than her lazy strokes earlier. “Shortly before we started dating, I got obsessed with dating Chat Noir.”

“Oh, I remember,” he says, and a small smirk flashes across his face. Despite how insulting it ought to feel, it relaxes her. She knows he’s still here, listening, and not lost in his own head.

“I love all of you, Adrien. You are still kind and polite, and not just to make others happy. You do it because you care. And you’re silly and sometimes charming, but maybe not as often as you’d like to be. You’re Adrien and Chat Noir, you know, and I love all of it. Because I love all of you.”

His eyes finally slide back up to meet hers. “You’re Marinette and Ladybug, you know.”

Heat creeps up her neck and into her cheeks. “O-of course.”

He swings his legs down and pushes himself up to her level. “You are brave and determined and cunning and creative and honest and thoughtful and a hero.” He leans in until his face is inches from hers.

Her cheeks must be fully red now.

“Adrien, I’m not—”

“If I can be Adrien and Chat Noir, why can’t you be Ladybug and Marinette?”

“I-I am, I just—”

“Am I allowed to love all of you?”

Her tongue tingles as her anxiety mounts. Her brain sparks with all the same misfires it used to around Adrien and Catwalker alike, which is unfair since he’s being particularly impolite and invasive in this moment.

“Adrien, I—”

“You’re my lady and my purrincess,” he says, voice low like Chat Noir’s as he brushes her hair away from her face.

Marinette isn’t sure if her heart or her lungs are going to give out first, but one of them is surely about to clock out for the day and leave her high and dry.

And then he kisses her, and all of her parts call it quits—except her mouth, which seems to find its way around his just fine.

His hand slides through her hair, and his other hand finds its way to her waist. Marinette wants to stop, but she also doesn’t want to stop—ever. It occurs to her, distantly, that Adrien has once again changed the subject away from himself, but that thought is too far from this moment, from the heat of this kiss to do any good.

When he finally does pull away, there’s such a Chat-like mischief in his eyes that only makes Marinette’s blush worse.

“I love you,” he says.

She forces herself—with a fair amount of effort—to remember where they had left off their conversation. “I love all of you,” she says.

He hesitates for only a moment, long enough for her to know the weight of her promise reaches where it ought to. He answers, “Only if you’ll let me love all of you, too.”

It’s a fair trade, at least. Maybe someday Ladybug will stop feeling like a costume, like an act she puts on. Maybe someday she’ll feel worth of all of those grand adjectives. But at least today, at least for now, she’ll feel worthy of Adrien, and she hopes that someday he’ll feel worthy of himself, too.

She twists her hands into the collar of his black T-shirt and pulls him in for another kiss.

[susannaius]

fuck it homebrew boop button. reblog this post to boop the person you reblogged from.