#being self indulgent on the dashboard

[gortrash]

do you ever think about what could’ve been? If we had saved him?

[suwunnysideup]

butch nancy? butch nancy.

[basingstokemercury]

Time for more single-line nitpicking/wondering!

Is she, though?

Is she?

Kira absolutely has a temper and can be ruthless to her enemies (traits she shares with Sisko, which may be why they make such a good team).

But she's also a quick thinker, and caring, sensitive, and protective towards her friends, which Julian should have ample evidence of at this point.

Crossover (as I've previously gone into) devotes what is honestly a shocking amount of time to Kira caring for Julian.

Life Support has a lot of Kira being emotionally vulnerable with Julian, and doubtless more that we don't see onscreen.

(And of course they seem to at least have a decent level of friendship after Crossover, so I'm sure he's well-acquainted with her personality)

So why aggression? How does that make sense? Shouldn't she be... His wit? His courage? His extroversion?

Or maybe I'm just biased because I ship them and this makes perfect sense to normal fanpeople. That's always possible.

(Does Julian even have aggression? Do we ever, ever see him lash out in anger aside from One Single Episode?)

[dawn-in-neocity]

driving with nct dream

(this is slightly self indulgent bc i recently got my driver’s license)

mark

passenger princess! takes his position on aux very seriously, he has a specific playlist for driving with you. lowkey gets sassy about anyone moving his seat lmao. pays for all your drive thru trips since you don’t let him pay for gas. loves it when you take him to deserted roads and teach him how to drive. (except if you drive stick shift, he’s not having any of that).

renjun

literally makes you feel so safe. never speeds. rests your joint hands on his lap <3. not shy to use the car honk. swerves when he sees birds on the road (“jun, they can fly”). you bond by road raging together. turns and smiles at you at red lights. lets you put cute stickers on his dashboard and sun visor. his car smells SO nice. always opens your door for you!!!

jeno

drives stick shift. you hate that you can’t hold his hand, but watching him change gears makes up for it. keeps hair pins/ties or a hat for you in his car bc he likes driving with the windows down. never sees potholes. automatically puckers his lips for a kiss whenever you’re getting in his car. pretends to be annoyed when you ask for starbucks (he is ecstatic).

haechan

definitely a curb hitter. y’all split driving 50/50 between you. basically karaoke on wheels (y’all are somehow even louder than the music). his hand is on your thigh, regardless of who’s driving. you can never finish a trip without getting a little treat, and he just GETS it. you always sit in the car for 5-10 mins both when leaving to and getting back from anywhere.

jaemin

only drives when you’re too tired/intoxicated to. otherwise insists on being your passenger princess. takes candid pictures of you bc “you look hot when you drive”. don’t put him in charge of directions, you will miss three turns and be late. keeps a small bottle of his cologne in your car. brings you a lil snack from inside if you’re picking him up from his place.

chenle

music is for background noise only. running errands together and chatting on the way is a main pillar of your rs sorry. puts his arm behind your headrest when reversing bc he knows you find it attractive. hardcore backseat driver whenever you drive. puts one of those storage thingies in his car bc he’s SICK of finding random chapsticks and candy wrappers everywhere.

jisung

only likes driving when he’s with you. hand on your thigh always (does the thumb thing without realizing). only lets go to mom arm you. has a blanket in the trunk for your stargazing dates. gets pouty when it’s time to drop you home. can NOT park (no pun intended). you guys always play those road-trip games like parents on vacation.

[magic-aggy]

otp 🌞✨

what if celestia quit being an alicorn princess and fell in love with a travelling stage magician...

so this ship had a phase of popularity on tumblr a month or two ago bc of some art and text posts going around. very cute stuff.

edit: specifically the stuff made by @rarilight and @horsewizardart

this is inspired by that obvs, but also bc i used to self indulgently ship these two privately back in 2021, with trixie as a sort of self insert.

but now i identify with both characters really deeply, so as much as this is cute art its also like, some self indulgent self love from my perspective. my middle names are celestia and trixie for a reason lol.

i tried to try less and be less perfectionist on this, and i think i did okay. experimented with half tone shading but its way too light to show up on the dashboard, oh well!

oh yeah its also inspired by this:

so anyway in conclusion: celestia and trixie are trans and gay and they love each other very much.

[pedrito-friskito]

I'm back with another!! Fluff prompt #1 for Frankie, please 😇💜 (sorry I'm on mobile so I can't copy and paste it 😬)

yay fluff!! this was actually the same request as the one I got for Joel from @iamskyereads - but this one took a very different turn!

(prompt was: “Should I stop talking?” “Don’t, your voice is very soothing.”)

this was VERY self-indulgent, and it got a little (a lot) spicy, but I would truly do anything for Frankie Morales so so here we go!

eventual smut under the cut!

requests are open until saturday midnight!

the cold

(word count 1.7k)

Frankie is a suck when he’s sick. Like, man-cold to the nth degree. He’s a baby, in every sense of the word. But you can’t help it, taking care of him every way you can.

Flu season is a bit of a write-off in your house. While you fill your body with antioxidant teas and immune-boosting vitamins, Frankie thinks it’s all bullshit, waving off your offers with a mumbled, “I don’t get sick.”

Except, he does.

It starts fine; it always does. A bit of a cough, clearing his throat repeatedly, rubbing at his nose and making that scrunched-up expression you secretly love (more so when it’s not the first sign of impending sickness…). He asks for soup for dinner, grumbles at you that his throat is sore, takes longer, hotter showers than normal. But he powers through, refuses to call into work cuz, “It’s just a bit of a cold, baby. I’m fine.”

Except, he’s very quickly not fine.

His truck is in the driveway when you get home from work, which is your first clue. Frankie’s almost never home before you, and as you pass his truck on your way to the door, you can see wads of tissues scattered on the bench seat, lozenge wrappers decorating the dashboard. You sigh as you fish your keys out of your pocket, unlocking the door and stepping inside. He whines as soon as he hears your shoes on the tile.

“Baby, I’m sick.”

You have to stifle your giggle, unloading your work bag and purse from your arms, toeing off your shoes and locking the door behind you. “You don’t say, Francisco.”

He’s sprawled out on the couch, wrapped in the flannel blanket that usually lives on the back of the sofa. He doesn’t look well, to start; his skin is pale, his forehead shining with a thin sheen of sweat, his eyes bloodshot. You step to the back of the couch, leaning over and touching the back of your hand to his forehead. He’s warm, too, and holds your hand to his skin with something like a whimper on his lips.

“Your hands are so soft, baby.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes as you head for the kitchen. “Have you taken anything?” you ask, beelining for the cupboard where you keep the meds, fishing out a package of cold and flu, along with another baggie of lozenges and one of the echinacea teabags you’ve been hoarding since he first started coughing. “Fish?”

“No,” he calls back, clearing his throat, which sends him into a coughing fit. You pop two of the pills out of the blister back, fill a glass of water, returning to the living room and perching on the coffee table as he stops, offering the water.

“Drink,” you command, and he listens, clammy fingers brushing yours as he takes the glass. “And take these, too.”

He makes a face as he takes the pills from you, wincing as he swallows. “I hate being sick.”

You shake your head at the big suck he’s turned into, reaching out to brush his hair from his forehead. “I know, baby.”

The rest of the evening is spent waiting on Frankie, and you go full nurse-mode on him. A box of tissues is left on the coffee table, along with more lozenges, a bottle of water, and a cup of tea with honey. When he starts coughing again, you find a tub of vapour-rub, and order his shirt off, perching on the coffee table again so you can smear the stuff on his chest. It helps some; you can feel his breathing even out a bit beneath your hands, his lungs less rattle-y against his ribs.

He whines when you take your hands off of him, and you settle onto the couch instead, pulling his head into your lap while you find something to watch on Netflix. One hand still rubs at his chest, the vapour-rub long absorbed, but every time you try and stop, he nudges at your arm, makes some unintelligible noise, begging you to continue.

“How was your day?” he asks, his voice a little nasally, sniffing loudly as you hand him a tissue.

You tell him about your day at work, launching into a story about your coworkers. You ramble a bit; usually you two have a big, long chat over dinner, which usually cascades out onto the couch after you’re finished tidying up, so you have lots to say. And you keep rubbing at his chest, his skin hot against your palm, his head rising and falling with your breaths.

You’ve been talking for nearly twenty minutes, and you realize he hasn’t said a word. He started out with quiet affirmations he was listening, uh-huhs and oh reallys interjected every so often, but it’s a been a while since you heard one.

“Frankie?” you say softly, not wanting to wake him if he’s asleep. “Honey, should I stop talking? Why don’t we get you to bed, hmm?”

“Don’t,” he rasps, turning over onto his stomach, burying his face in your lap. Your hand moves to his hair, curls sliding around your knuckles. “Your voice is very soothing.”

“Oh, is it?” you ask, smiling as you move your hand through his hair, making a little moan fall out of him. “I’m sure it would be even more soothing in bed.”

He shakes his head against you. “Don’t wanna move.”

“How about the shower?” you ask, and his head perks up instantly, sleepy eyes blinking at you.

“You gonna join me?” he asks, and you laugh.

“Yes, Fish,” you reply, ruffling his hair. “Don’t trust you to stay upright without me.”

It’s the fastest he’s moved all evening, kicking off the blanket and waiting for you to stand up. He wobbles a bit as he gets to his feet, and you fit yourself under his arm, leading him down the hall to the bathroom.

He looks dead on his feet as you shuffle him into the shower, the spray nearly as hot as it’ll go, filling the bathroom with steam. You strip yourself quickly, pulling the curtain back into place. Frankie slips his arms around your waist as soon as you’re within reach, leaning his head into your chest, his back pressed to the cold tile.

“Comfortable?” you ask, angling yourself so he’s not getting sprayed directly in the face. He nods into your collar, and you sigh as you feel his hands slip lower, palming your ass as he pulls you a little closer. “Frankie.”

“Huh?” he mumbles, kissing at your collarbone. “What, baby?”

“You’re sick,” you say, coming your fingers through his wet hair, slicking it back over his head.

“But I need you,” he almost whines, head moving up so he can suck at the skin of your neck. “Always need you, even when I feel like shit.” He pauses, wrenches his head up and coughs towards the wall. “Especially when I feel like shit.”

“Breathe deep,” you tell him, rubbing your other hand up and down his back. “The steam will help.”

He fits his face back against your neck, hands roaming your body again, and you can’t help but lean into his touch a little. He knows your body better than you do, knows where to squeeze and caress in just the right way, sending sparks of heat to your core.

You feel him twitch against your thigh, and you can’t help yourself, moving your and around from his back, down his arms, over his stomach. He groans in your ear as you skim your fingers along his waist, over the curve of his stomach, and he twitches again, cock filling at your attention.

He squeezes your ass again, his other hand reaching between your legs, but you push him away. “Baby—” he starts to protest, nose still buried in your throat.

“I’m taking care of you, remember?” you mumble against his hair, kissing the crown of his head. “Let me.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll take care of myself later,” you say, revelling in the gasp that slips from his throat as your fingers close around his cock. “I’ll let you watch.”

He groans into your throat, arm going tight as anything around your waist. You stroke him slow, bringing your hand to your mouth after a moment and licking a stripe up your palm. He groans louder when you touch him again, your spit and the water easing your movements, making him pulse in your hand. You curl your fingers tight, thumb riding the thick vein along the underside of him, and he whimpers into your neck, clawing tighter at your waist, pushing his hips into your hand.

You know his body just as well as he knows yours.

You move your other hand to the base of his neck, fingers still knotted in your hair and tug lightly, just enough that you can press your lips to his forehead. “You gonna cum for me, Frankie?”

“Uh-huh,” he breathes out, nearly stuttering the response as you push him back slightly, until his back is flush against the tile again. You pump him fast and hard, just like he likes, thumb swiping against his sensitive head on every upstroke. “Fuck, baby, please.”

“Take it, Fish,” you whisper, holding him close, your hand moving faster on his cock. “C’mon, baby, wanna make you feel good.”

“Feels so good,” he groans out and pushes his head back as he cums, ropes of white spurting onto your stomach, over your knuckles, dripping onto his thighs. He stutters out your name as he goes, head tipped back against the tile, eyes rolling back in his head. You stroke him through it, savouring every sound he makes, the heat and pressure between your own legs pulsing in time to your heartbeat. Later.

You only slow when he starts to whine, one hand pushing at your own. You tug him beneath the water again, letting the hot spray wash you both clean, and he fits himself against you, hand roaming your body once more.

“You’re so good to me, baby,” he mumbles into your neck. “So fucking good to me.”

[glass-noodle]

🐭 slightly intimidating

relatively new to dbh but i fell for it more (and especially for hank and connor) through your art. you're an artist i really admire and your hankcon art makes my day all the better whenever i see you on my dashboard. you also inspired me to take up writing again and ah here i go word vomiting. but really you're incredible, thank you and keep up the amazing work.

Ahhh???

I hope you don’t mind if I save this for the days when I’m feeling down about myself and my art. I think I’m naturally inclined towards self-deprecation and perfectionism (it’s irrational but sometimes I worry about being annoying by posting too frequently or that things don’t look perfect or that the stuff I draw is really only interesting to 1 (one) person (myself) which I KNOW isn’t true!! I know it isn’t!!!) but it’s just — still so incredibly nice to hear that my self-indulgent stuff can be inspiring and that it makes your day better. I don’t have words except to say THANK YOU!!! KEEP ON WRITING!!! 😭💕❤️

[gooddaysmeanwritingdays]

I Have ADHD

Fandom: Daredevil (MCU) Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader (gender neutral) Warnings: none? Bit of swearing and dangerous driving, basically just author indulging in self-indulgent writing Word Count: 1643 words Summary: You're late to an ADHD consultation appointment and you're terrifying the shit out of your boyfriend Matt by driving like a maniac.

A/N: So this is 100% a self-indulgent fanfic. I just got diagnosed with ADHD and it was genuinely one of the happiest moments of my life. So I decided to share this joy with anyone who wants to read it. I couldn’t stop smiling when I wrote this, just like I couldn’t stop smiling (and crying and laughing) when I got my diagnosis.

A/N 2: This has no relation to the show Daredevil at all (besides Matt being there) so you don’t need to have watched it to enjoy this fic. I honestly don’t expect many people to read it because this is pure indulgence, but if any of you do, I hope you enjoy 💖

A/N 3: I’d like to give a huge shoutout to my wonderful friend and beta-reader @221birl1823 for reading this and for being a huge support in this journey for me. Thank you for everything; this one’s for you.

“I’m late. I’m late. I’m fucking late.” You swerved through the traffic and flapped your hand at the car behind you when they slammed on their brakes and leaned on their horn. “Shit sorry sorry.”

“Killing us isn’t going to get you there any earlier,” Matt remarked dryly.

“Not helping.” But when you turned to glare at him, you noticed the death grip your boyfriend has on the dashboard and the slight green tinge to his cheeks. You eased up on the accelerator a bit and sighed. “Sorry, baby. I’m just stressed. I’ve been waiting for this appointment for six months and I’m late.”

You glanced at the clock again. 11:58. Your appointment was at midday, and you were still ten minutes away.

“I know.” He reached over to grip your hand in his, before ripping away to grip the dash again as you sped through a yellow light. “Just please get us there alive.”

Reluctantly, you did as he asked. Anyone else you probably would have told them to suck it up, but for Matt you’d do anything. Even be later than you already were. Plus, you couldn’t imagine it was fun being blind and being at the mercy of a speeding maniac. There was a reason he rarely let you drive—and it had nothing to do with living in New York.  

When you were finally at a sensible pace again, Matt reached over to slide his fingers between yours. “Hey.”

You glanced over, squeezing his hand to let him know you were paying attention.

“What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

You furrowed your brow. You’d expected some kind and loving words, not him asking you to dredge up all your anxieties. But he had that earnest look on his face you never could say no to.

“Well, they could tell me I’ll have to wait longer which will only make me stress more. Or they’ll cancel my appointment for being late without notice. Or they’ll kick me out for good saying I should have gotten there earlier because they’re a fancy private fucking practice and they could do that!” As you listed all the worst-case scenarios you could, your anxiety started rising once more. You slammed on the brakes to avoid running up someone’s arse and flicked them the finger when they beeped at you.

“Okay. Well, if you have to wait longer, I’ll be with you to calm you down. If they cancel your appointment for being—” he checked the time “—six minutes late, then we’ll book it for the very next time we can, or demand to see someone else.” He tugged on your hand for your attention again. “And if they throw you out permanently, we’ll sue them.”

You snorted, leaning into him as you waited for the lights to turn green. “It’s a good thing I happen to know two great lawyers.”

He kissed your forehead. “Definitely a good thing. But I don’t think you’ll have to worry about it at all. You’ll be okay. It’ll go perfectly.”

You didn’t let go of him as you slammed on the accelerator and overtook a truck, and he gripped your hand tighter as you did.

You glanced at the clock again. 12:07. Anxiety stirred in your throat at the sight, but you took a deep breath and focused on the circles Matt was drawing on the inside of your wrist.

Everything’s going to be okay, you reassured yourself. It doesn’t matter that I’m late. It’s not the end of the world. If I have to wait longer that’s okay, and if they try to kick me out, I’ll glue my ass to that seat until someone’s free.

You took another breath, calming down before a car suddenly swerved in front of you. You tore your hand from Matt’s with a curse and swerved to the other lane, narrowly missing a motorcycle.

“You fucking asshole!” You glared at the other driver as you passed her. “Where’d you learn to drive? The fucking moon?”

She flipped you off without looking and you snarled as you rounded a corner.

“Are you talking about yourself?” Matt asked faintly.

You snorted, your mood rising instantly, and you pried his hand from the dash and wrapping it in yours. You pressed a kiss to the back of it, only smiling a little. “What are you saying about my driving, Murdock?”

“That you’re a menace.”

You grinned. Turning into the driveway, you slipped into a free park. “We’re here.”

“Next time we’re taking a cab.”

“A cab can’t make up for lost time like I can. If we’d gotten a cab, we’d have been late.”

“Later than we already are?”

You poked him in the chest, outraged. “Too soon.” You locked the car behind you and headed in.

Before you got to the door and your nerves could rise anymore, Matt grabbed your hand. “Hey, you’ll be okay. This is an ADHD clinic. They’re used to dealing with people with poor time management.”

You let out a shaky breath. “So I guess it’s a point in my favour that I’m late to a consultation where one guy decides if I meet the criteria another guy made up?”

His smile was a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Come find me when you’re done.”

With that he headed towards the coffee shop two doors down and you headed inside to face the music.

~~~

“We’ll start you off slowly, half a tablet today, two halves tomorrow, one and a half on day 3 and then two from then on. Try not to take them after midday as they could keep you awake later in the night.” The doctor folded his notebook. “Any questions?”

“Ah yeah, one.” You rubbed your fingers, squeezing the tension out of them. “So when I walk out of that door—” you gestured at the closed door to his office “—I have ADHD? Like I’m officially diagnosed with ADHD?”

He smiled. “Yes. You have ADHD.”

The air left you in a rush. “Okay. Right. Thank you.”

He nodded, turning back to his computer, and started typing up your script. You pressed you hand to you mouth to cover your laugh as you replayed the words in your head. You have ADHD. You have ADHD.

You blinked the tears from your eyes, dabbing at the corners. Holy shit. I have ADHD.

You grabbed a tissue from the box beside you, dabbing the corner of your eyes before you could make a fool of yourself.

The doctor glanced at you. “Are you alright?”

You breathed out a laugh. “Yeah. I’m just so relieved.”

He smiled kindly. “It’s often a relief to finally get a diagnosis.”

“So much.” You squeezed the tissue in your hands and sat back in the chair like your muscles couldn’t hold you up.

“Here’s your script.” He handed it to you. “You can get this filled at any pharmacy, and you can start taking it this afternoon, if you like. Just remember to follow the schedule I gave you.”

You nodded quickly. “Of course. Yes. Thank you so much.”

He stood up and you followed him to the door. “You do look relieved. And lighter than when you walked in.”

“So damn relieved.” You laughed a little. “Thank you so much.”

“Have a good day.”

When asked later, you couldn’t remember much of what followed, of paying, of booking a follow up appointment, of anything but the thoughts: I have ADHD.

It wasn’t until you were outside that it finally hit you emotionally and you couldn’t stop the tears streaming down your cheeks. You stumbled blindly to your car, tears pouring down your cheeks and laughter spilling from you.

“Hey.” Twin familiar arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest. “How’d it go?”

You spun around to face your boyfriend. “You didn’t hear?”

He shook his head. “Of course not. I wasn’t listening. I didn’t want to intrude on that.” Matt reached up to cup your cheeks. “You’re crying…and you’re laughing. What’d he say?”

“I have ADHD!” You threw your hands up in the air, smiling the biggest smile you ever had.

“Yeah?” Matt pulled you close and a grin bloomed on his face to match yours before he spun you in a circle. “That’s fantastic! Congratulations, sweetheart! I’m so happy for you!”

“Me too!” You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck when he didn’t put you down. “I have ADHD! Officially! Actually! It’s not in my head! I’m not lazy! I’m not making this up! I have ADHD!”

“I never doubted you for a second.” Matt pressed his forehead to yours, smiling so hard his cheeks must have ached. “I can’t believe you finally got it!”

You laughed, biting your lip. “I finally got it! After all these years and all the assholes saying I didn’t, I finally got it. The confirmation I needed!”

He spun you in another circle and you let out a shrieking laugh before you stopped. “Wait. I have to tell Megan!” You pushed at his shoulders until he let you go. “They’ve been with me every step of the way! I have to tell them the good news! Ahh! They’re going to be so happy for me!”

Matt let you go with a laugh as you ran into the car park, your phone out and your smile so wide your cheeks ached. He blinked when you stopped and spun around to face him again.

“Almost forgot.” You leapt into his arms, knowing he’d catch you as he always did. Being in his arms always felt like the safest place on earth. And right now, it was the happiest too. You cupped his cheeks and pulled him in for a soft kiss. Pulling away, you rested your head against his, smiling like mad as you said, “Thank you, baby. Thank you for helping me through this and being there for me whenever I needed it.”

His eyes crinkled in the corners, and he leaned into your touch. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

You have ADHD. The words ran through your head, and you felt so giddy you wanted to scream and laugh and leap for joy. “I have ADHD!” you whispered.

“Yeah, you do, baby. You have ADHD.”

A/N: Like I said, purely self-indulgent. I just want to add, my experience of ADHD and diagnosis isn’t universal. This fic is purely about me expressing my relief and happiness over finally getting a diagnosis that has been slowly wrecking me for far too long. I honestly still can’t believe it. And I can’t stop smiling!

Comments and reblogs are much loved 💖💖💖

[justsomerandomplanet]

Hello! I just wanted to say I absolutely adore all of your art and thank you for all the ancient ones/Heian era content (especially Kenjaku 👀...) I would absolutely love to hear all of your drabbles about it! I have my own stuff too about them but I live for any JJK Heian era stuff lol.

Anyway, mostly wanted to drop by and say thank you for showing us your amazing art ❤️ I look at it every day, it makes me so happy!

Helloooo,

Thank you so much for your kind words!! I'm happy that you enjoy my silly self indulgent art hehe

As for my thoughts on em, I'll put them underneath here so the post doesn't appear too long on the dashboard ^-^

(I'll mostly just share my thoughts on the character dynamics bc I'm not knowledgeable about the actual history of the Heian Era)

Tengen & Kenjaku

Oh where do I even begin!!!

I genuinely believe the two of them are the reason the jujutsu system is the way it is in modern times (more so the former than the latter especially). Although we don't actually know much about what the two were like previously, the implications on their dynamic is so delicious.

For one, I definitely see that they care(d) about each other. The fact Tengen was still aware that Kenjaku was alive and yet still did nothing even though they had prevuously tried to sabotage the merging raises a lot of eyebrows...like why would you let a criminal in the jujutsu history go??? I understand that Tengen's whole thing is that she doesn't interact with the real world anymore, but she can definitely communicate with the other sorcerers to do her bidding when necessary (e.g. telling the sorcerers to let Riko enjoy her youth before the merging while protecting her). On the other hand, Kenjaku always seems to seek out Tengen. Calling her an old friend, always trying to bring her in a conversation, insulting her as if they could get a reaction out of her...oh there's definitely something here that can be explored.

I do believe they had a falling out and that falling out is the reason things have become this way. Tengen's innaction as a way to maintain the status quo (traditions) and Kenjaku's curiosity as a drive to break that status quo (innovation) has led us here. And I do believe Sukuna and Yuuji reflect that too, but that'll be for a different time to ramble on.

Tengen & Immortality

To me, Tengen can feel paradoxical/hypocritical sometimes. She states she did not want to evolve into a higher being yet allows others to treat her like she is one, to protect her and also isolating herself. She often speaks in a way that presents humble but has an arrogance about herself as well (e.g. she is the best barrier user even tho she hasn't really been challenged on it for the past 500-ish years or the merging of star plasma vessels was necessary for the greater good-which is true-but also as a way to maintain herself). She said change in herself was inevitable and detached herself from the real world yet built a foundation in jujutsu that relied on her barriers and did not allow change for like a 1000 years.

Whether or not she meant these things intentionally is hard for me to say bc i don't think Tengen is malicious or means ill-will, but I do think in some way, Tengen is more afraid of change or even death than anyone else and has built a foundation to a society that relies on her existence, leading to a stagnation. I find that fitting that her CT is Immortality, it sorta reflects that don't you think? But like a star, sooner or later, change and death is inevitable.

Tengen, Sukuna, & Kenjaku

These guys had a history. What that history is idk but personally I do believe Sukuna is the youngest out of them. I like to think Sukuna was the pet project of Tengen and Kenjaku. Not necessarily that they're his parents or anything (tho that would be funny) but rather more like...a pupil or a dysfunctional found family dynamic. Sukuna already knows he was an unwanted child but that doesn't mean he didn't have any connections with people growing up. I do think Tengen and/or Kenjaku helped Sukuna in becoming who he is.

Plus, Tengen keeping Sukuna's mummiffied corpse (with the implication that she was the one to do it) and Kenjaku seemingly being the only one able to hold some level of control over Sukuna's head just tells me something is up with those three that screams a psychological power imbalance. Also also, if Tengen had the corpse but the fingers were scattered, when exactly did Kenjaku split his soul? (this is more of a musing more than an actual question. I just think it would be delicious if Tengen allowed Kenjaku to see Sukuna's dead body-which led to the cursed fingers albeit without her knowledge but shrug)

Kenjaku, Love, & Motherhood

Saving da best for last, oh Kenny! I did a lot of rambling on Tengen but tbf there's so very little stuff on her I have more thoughts to share, but Kenjaku is really my favourite character in all of jjk. They're so fascinating, their curiosity driving them but also spite (just like me fr)

No but in all seriousness, Kenjaku is such a fun but sad character. Clearly, whatever happened between them and Tengen led to where they are, which I find fascinating. I know they're doing things cause of curiosity, but sometimes it does feel like they're trying to prove something (namely to Tengen). The implications that they may have grown up lonely, was friends with Tengen but had a break up, and still talks about making friends...AUGHHH

This leading to the theme of motherhood is also great. What's a better way to build a connection and to create innovation than from your own blood. Yuuji may not have a "role" as Kenjaku told Choso, but I think that's the whole point. Maybe Yuuji was made to hold Sukuna or cursed objects, who knows, but Kenjaku purposely letting him develop himself, for better or worst, definitely feels right.

And in a way I do find it enjoyable Yuuji doesn't actually care enough about Kenjaku. Yes he's trying to stop Kenny but there isn't necessarily any personal stakes that he's aware of, and I find that enjoyable for the irony: Kenjaku being so invested in Yuuji yet he won't even see it. Kenjaku, who is clearly obsessed with motherhood, fetuses, and children, cannot even get the attention of their own child.

[hearttohaato]

Encanto OC Event Week 2

Part 2: Tomás Herrera & Others

(Part 1 Here)

The second half of my OC relationship info post - this'll include some info about Tomás's bonds with my other OCs, as well as those background OCs' relationships with each other and canon characters.

@encanto-extended-edition

Tomás in regards to his natal family:

Tomás is the youngest in a family of four, born to Lucía and Horacio Herrera.

Lucía was a schoolteacher and volunteer in the town library, who passed away when Tomás was still a child. Tomás loved and admired his mother, considering her to have been a saint in life. The memories he has of her are fond ones, recalling her as being a kind woman without a bad word to say about anyone. He thinks highly of her optimism and humility, and her ability to make anyone feel understood and listened to.

Lucía as well as Tomás's older brother, Mateo, are both canonically deceased as per the events of the story the Herrera family is introduced in. This leaves Tomás and his father as the last living of their family within the Encanto.

Horacio used to be a mason, having to retire early due to weakness in his legs. Between this and the loss of his parents, his wife, and eventually his oldest son, Horacio sometimes thinks he's cursed - but his one silver lining is his remaining son, Tomás. Horacio has zero qualms about being openly affectionate with Tomás both physically and verbally, and though he's a little oblivious at times, he only wants the best for his boy. Tomás in turn is a loyal and protective son to Horacio, willing to put up with a little embarrassment if it makes his father happy. It doesn't matter how old Tomás gets, he'll always be his papá's conejito.

Art by cringecanto (right)

It's a bit self-indulgent of me, but I'm of the mind that when Tomás marries into the family, Casita springs up a small in-law suite for Horacio so he won't have to spend his days in an empty house. I also am of the mind that in their youth Horacio and Bruno were quite friendly with each other, due to both more or less being underdogs with not a lot of friends between them.

Horacio likely approached Bruno before his wife's passing, just on the off chance he saw her make a miraculous recovery. That isn't what he saw, of course. But though devastated, Horacio accepted the result with as much grace as he could and didn't blame Bruno or his visions for the bad news.

They ended up losing touch when Bruno became more withdrawn and eventually "left", but upon Bruno's return to society their friendship ends up picking right back up where it left off. When Tomás marries into the family and Horacio tags along, he and Bruno spend a good amount of their time having tea and playing cards as old men tend to do.

The rest under the cut to spare the poor dashboards out there!

The Patch:

The Patch, or El Parche, is the group name I use to refer to Camilo's small group of older friends, including Tomás (as introduced in the previous post). They're childhood friends; as a unit and individually they're all well-liked young men within their peers and the community as a whole, decently popular in different ways. They initially were meant to be unnamed background characters whose designs were pulled from random Encantownies, but I accidentally got attached to them and now they all have proper designs and development. Such is my life.--

Cristián Vargas, Rafael Molina, Santiago Torres, Tomás Herrera

Santiago (22) is the oldest not only of the friend group but of his own siblings, of which he's got 6 younger sisters and brothers. He's the designated 'mom friend' by nature, easily slotting into leadership positions and able to keep a handle on multiple goings-on at once. That said he very much is a mother hen type, a bit fussy and prone to scolding his siblings and friends (usually Rafael) whenever they start steering towards bad decisions.

Tomás and Santi are usually on the same page when it comes to caution and forethought, contrasting with Rafa and Cris's more go-with-the-flow attitudes. Santi's compassionate nature makes it easy for him to pick up on what Tomás is feeling without him voicing it, taking it upon himself to either make decisions based on what Tomás would most prefer or urging the others to do so instead. Tomás appreciates Santi looking out for him, feeling it alleviates pressure off of his own shoulders when he's unsure of what to do.

Rafael (21) is the most boisterous of all of them, the beacon of activity and extroversion to balance out his more subdued companions. He's a risk-taker and extremely liberal-minded about topics that usually wouldn't be openly bragged out, often leading to Santi urging him to keep it down (which will inevitably be ignored or expanded upon specifically to make Santi flustered).

His loud and brash personality clashes with Tomás's reserved ways, but the two have a unique bond despite the expected incompatibility; Rafael is not at all discouraged by Tomás's quietness and Tomás isn't put off by Rafael's brazenness. They both think the other is easy to communicate with - Tomás never has to guess what Rafa's feelings are and Rafa likes Tomás's predilection for being a listening ear.

Cristián (20) is far old enough now to have an identity and social circle separate to those of his twin brother César, but when he was a young child he used to be very shy and hesitant to leave his brother's side. When Santi and Rafa became his friends it was the first time he felt comfortable with something (or someone) that was more or less his own - so when his new friends started chatting with Tomás he felt a little threatened. Fears of abandonment were unfounded though, as not only did his friends not dump him in favor of the New Kid, but he very quickly realized why they liked Tomás and ended up getting attached to him too.

As adults they have similar mellow temperaments and get along quite nicely, though Cris's vastly improved self-assurance has made him a lot more laidback and unflappable than the more organized and prim Tomás. Tomás admires Cris's ability to be both steadfast and considerate, unwavering in what he believes in but knowing when to handle situations with delicateness and care.

When Camilo entered the picture and turned the Patch into a five-man-band, all four of the older members collectively decided that he was more or less their joint little brother. Santiago attempts to provide Camilo with proper advice and look out for him in ways an older brother should, which often means trying to make sure Rafael keeps his crude language in check around him. Rafael usually does not, taking a completely different approach to being and older brother and totally enabling Camilo's mischievous nature. Cristián is somewhere in the middle, oftentimes siding with Santi or Rafa purely based on what he think would have the most entertaining result.

Beyond this though Cris is a unique source of understanding for Camilo, as Cris is the only other person he knows who doesn't experience romantic attraction for anyone and has no interest in dating. He could have asked Bruno, of course, but solidarity feels a little better coming from someone close to his own age rather than his quirky hermit uncle.--

Cris, Santi and Rafa are the older brothers to Cecilia, Alejandra and Juancho (the town kids) respectively.

Other relationships to Encantownies include:

Santi and Alejandra have five other siblings, and José (the tall fellow Camilo shifts into near the start of the movie) is their tío. Osvaldo is a tío to Rafael and Juancho, as well as their teenaged sister. Cris's parents are seen bringing Cecilia into Casita before Antonio's ceremony, and his twin brother César is the young man who asks Luisa to help upright his leaning house.

Other OCs:

Claudia Reyes (19) is the young lady with the drum seen during The Family Madrigal, whose family owns the music shop they're playing in front of. Beside her are her brother-in-law on the left and her father on the right.

She's Rafael's long-time girlfriend, on his same wavelength of open-mindedness and free spirit. They've been in a strange will-they-won't-they situation since they were teenagers, with Rafael playing it off like they're not all that serious and just messing around. Everyone knows Rafa's totally full of it and is head over heels for her though, including Claudia who's more or less just waiting for him to finally get around to proposing. They're going to have at least 4 kids together.

She knows the rest of the Patch more or less as her boyfriend's friends, but there's still rapport between them and Claudia's more than welcome to hang with the boys whenever she wants. On top of that, she's also Luisa's good friend who oftentimes will suggest Luisa try out outrageous things in an effort to push her out of her comfort zone.

The town librarian, usually referred to as the Maestro, is an enigmatic yet helpful figure in town whose mission in life is the sharing of knowledge. They can be considered everyone's friend, though like Horacio they have a kinship with Bruno that goes back quite a few years. All perfectly platonic, mind you! Additionally, given Lucía's history of volunteering in the library, the Maestro also is on good terms with the Herrera family and still keeps in touch with Horacio pretty regularly.

And I think those are the most notable relationships to get into for now! Up next will be the AU posts, and... boy, do I have a lot of those. 🫠

[anikasenkujo]

Let’s Celebrate Love: a Valentine’s Day Collab

"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage." —Lao Tzu.

As February not only marks as the month of love (with Valentine’s Day), but also, according to fanon, the birthday month for Jotaro, and as a personal milestone, it’s been a year since I created Anika (her birthday is in December, same as mine) and a year since I selfshipped with Jotaro, I decided to create this Valentine’s Day collab dedicated to only oc x canon shippers and selfshippers for fandoms. Here are the details:

A collab for self-shippers, self-insert x canon and oc x canon shippers, so feel free to be as self-indulgent as you want. <3

I also accept polyamorous relationships and love triangles if you wanted to include them ^_^

As it is a NSFW collab, all genres are allowed, INCLUDING dark content. That being said, minors, ageless blogs, blank blogs, b0ts, and pro-shippers, please DNI with this collab.

Fandoms: Mainly JJBA (since this is predominantly a JJBA OC and selfshipping blog), but I do extend this to all fandoms.

For this, it’s preferable to follow my main and/or nsfw blogs (@jotatetsuken & @musings-and-moans , i am on a mini hiatus there rn, but i may be active here) and if you're especially of the jjba fandom, it's preferable to also follow me on this blog (@/anikasenkujo) for oc x canon and selfshipping content. I’d also appreciate it if you don’t unfollow me after you’ve posted <3

You can club your entry for this collab with other collabs as well provided the other party agrees.

How many times can you enter? As many as you want, but, one oc x canon piece and one selfship piece for the fandoms you will be writing.

For example: I am allowed to only write once for Jotaro x Shyna (selfship) and for Jotaro x Anika (oc x canon), once for Nanami x Shyna (selfship) and once for Nanami x Akane (my JJK OC), etc

If you do have multiple OCs for the same fandom, I shall get back to you on that soon ✨

Writing and drawing in all forms are allowed (drabbles, fics, oneshots, headcanons, moodboards, sketches, linearts, etc). Even playlists as well. <3

No limit to word count, however, please do include a read more if your fic is 500+ words to avoid clogging the dashboard.

Soft Deadline: 28th February, 2023 (Ideal to post on or before Valentine's Day, but if you're unable to post by then, it's not an issue, but just let me know please)

Please do rb this post so that many people would know, and once when you’ve posted for the collab, please tag @/anikasenkujo and use this tag: 🌹celebrate love collab

How to Join:

-> Please send me your requests to join the collab through asks (to @/anikasenkujo) and not private DMs.

-> Please do specify if it’s a write-up (with the type of write up: fic/drabble/hcs), artwork, or even moodboards.

-> Please be especially respectful in your asks.

-> I will also allow changes if necessary (change of character, type of ship, dropping from the collab). So, you can send me an ask or DM me (only if we’re moots) if you want to drop out or change anything in your collab entry.

-> Do specify if it will be a sfw, nsfw, angst or dc, or a combo (it can be nsfw and dc or sfw and angst, etc)

Format: I would like to join the Valentine's Day collab, by writing a nsfw drabble and moodboard for Jotaro Kujo x Anika Sen (Jojo OC)

Jojo's Bizarre Adventure

Jotaro Kujo x Anika Sen (Jojo OC) (NSFW Drabble + Moodboard) - @/anikasenkujo LavBruAbba (Lavanda Di Costa (Jojo OC) x Bruno Bucciarati x Leone Abbacchio) - @spicyrequiem (NSFW Oneshot) Jotaro Kujo x Ziza Kahn (Jojo S/I) x Noriaki Kakyoin (Polyship) - @tangytiramisu (SFW art) Jotaro x Madison (Jojo OC) x Kakyoin (Polyship) (SFW Art) - @aeons-domain Melone x Avelino (Jojo OC) x Pesci (Polyship) (SFW fic) - @angelminci

Prosciutto x Reader (NSFW fic) - @jellyluchi

Black Clover

Fuegoleon Vermillion x Solara Equinox (Black Clover OC) (SFW Art + Fic) - @thoughtfullyrainynightmare

Tagging:

@jellyluchi @mapesandoval @magthemage @theschneckenhouse @spookysinner45 @widdlepeets @flowers-n-felines @shaylistic @weeb-coffee @amberswords @bowcherry @aeons-domain @abellaheart-blog @mrsgiovanna @ofallthingswhythis @whinestonecowgirl @wakatshi @i4sgwr

@nyaaaaanma @blueparadis @romiyaro @kagejima @ceo-of-daichi @zorotits @sennsational @cherrykamado @alterbubs @sookisaurus @suguruenjoyer @thoughtfullyrainynightmare

[llettucestuff]

This was supposed to be a short thing about a hc I have where Chase’s frame is a bit colder than normal, and Heatwave’s a bit warmer. Instead, this kind of derailed and became… whatever this is. It’s very self-indulgent and probably a little OOC lol. This particular fic has Chase and Heatwave as Amica Endura’s btw, but I won’t always write them like that.

ALSO I haven’t written for Transformers in like, a REALLY long time so please excuse any missed terminology :]

ALSO ALSO Chase is kinda inspired by @/delkios HCs here on tumblr from like 2016, and this series on AO3, which is also inspired by delkios. More on that in the tags. Enjoy!

———

Chase muses about the general nuances between him and his Amica, and their overall relationship in relation to Griffon Rock.

Or, Chase runs cold. Heatwave runs hot. They make it work.

—

Despite his core temperature being at an optimal point for functioning, Chase still ran decidedly cold, through no fault of his own. He’d been that way ever since he was a sparkling, sitting in front of heaters trying to warm up his endlessly cool servos and pedes, never really feeling truly warm, servos always either burning hot or in their natural state of permanent cold.

His Amica, the mech after Chase’s own spark, on the other hand, ran hot like an earth furnace. Chase recalls being told various stories of Heatwave trying to cool himself down, sneaking into freezers and other places mechlings like him shouldn’t be. It was almost funny, the way they were trying to achieve the opposite of what the other was. Maybe that’s why they work so well together.

Chase’s servos were always a touch too cold to be pleasant or fully “normal,” digits sometimes stiff with inclement weather coupled with a chilled frame, Heatwave’s palms always warm and grounding, frame hot like his temper.

They were equilibrium for each other, opposites in the regard of outward frame temperature, always ready to cool one down or warm the other up. It worked, and that’s why they were Amicas.

(Not just for that sole fact, Chase would input, musing that Heatwave’s companionship meant much more to him than his admitted handiness as a personal heater).

That fact, that is, their cool and heat swapping tendencies, hasn’t changed in the many, many vorns that they had known each other, even pre-Amica Endura status. So, given that, it isn’t expected by either of them for it to change once they meet the rest of the Sigma-17 rescue team, where they meet Blades and Boulder, or when they hit Griffon Rock and discover their new mission— and it doesn’t, as they predicted so.

(It’s a touch curious and a bit of a wonder how neither Boulder nor Blades discovered their Amica status before Griffon Rock. It’s not like either we’re being particularly subtle, but they supposed that their combined general professionalism probably skewed the other two bots’ perception of them, and any private time between themselves was usually during recharge time, or so subtly done that it was overlooked. Chase would find it funny if he wasn’t so concerned about his friends perceptiveness.)

Apparently, after scanning their new vehicle modes, Chase and Heatwave’s frame temperature translated, to a degree, to the inside of their cabins. This doesn’t necessarily cause a bad problem, but, minor complications do arise.

Sometimes, Kade would gripe about the heat during the summer months, complaining that the heat made him sticky. Sometimes, Chief Burns would be a touch chilled when first entering Chase’s cab, though he never really commented on such.

Both were easily fixed and placated with the flick of a dial that had the Chief murmuring gratefully, sinking in to the warmth with a subtle but firm pat to the dashboard. On the other hand, it had Kade and Heatwave grouching at each other loudly until Heatwave finally cranked the AC as high as it would go, and, in a most petulant manner, they would spat for a few minutes longer, then acquiesce; although both Chase and Cody were proud to announce the fact that these spats and arguments had become fewer in frequency over the course of time, a fact that they took immense satisfaction in: it meant they were getting along, working together, tolerating each other’s presence. They still fought, surely, because that’s just who they were as people (and cybertronian).

(Chase would not divulge Heatwave’s late-night ramblings about his parter, ranging from words not meant for the likes of little audials, to worries about his human friend. Heatwave was shudder-to-think that Kade would actually realize that Heatwave listens to him, much less cares about him, in the covertly roundabout way that Heatwave does when he meets new people that seem to grow on him. Yes, Chase was sure Heatwave’s quiet affections were born out of nothing but pure concern about the fragileness of his squishy human partner and the rest of the Burns family.)

At the end of the day, when they had the time to spare and a near-certain guarantee of no impending emergencies to disrupt them, Heatwave would sit on the bot-sized couch, Chase’s helm cradled delicately in his lap, and they could bask in each others’ presence and talk in their native vernacular, occasionally watching human TV or reading datapads and books alike. Of course, they would swap positions interchangeably— it all depended on how the two felt on that particular night.

Heatwave’s heat would leach into Chase’s cool, and the two mechs would sit there, basking in the steady, familiar equilibrium of their soothed sparks and evenly-temperatured frames.

Sometimes, one of them would instead lay down on the couch like it was a squishy berth, and the other could lay on top, trading coolness for warmth (and vise versa), and let the steadiness wash over them, EM fields melding lazily, and systems shutting down to fall into an easy, quiet recharge.

It was peaceful. Routine, when they could afford it. Nice, even, though they would argue on separate fronts that any one-on-one time with their Amica was beyond just “nice”.

It was the perfect way to recharge, Heatwave thought, never one to shy away from physical affection (in the many gruff forms he typically dished it out in) with someone he loved. If Chase could have it his way, they would do this every night, holding servos and muttering halting words and conversations half-thought out to each other into the gentle quiet of the bunker.

Chase’s normally rigid, borderline inexpressive field going almost wiggly and boneless, blanketing over them as he grumbled tiredly over his Amica, shifting as he knocked their helms together gently in a spur of the moment bout of (what sometimes felt like an overwhelming amount of) affection.

Heatwave gave his servo a gentle squeeze, making soothing little sounds to calm the policebot back into recharge and settling his own field over the two of them, engine purring quietly in contentment. Heatwave was quick to glare and snap at any of the other bots that might come near them that were in the “living room” part of the bunker with them, mostly for fear that they might make a nasty comment on their admittedly compromising condition, though that happening in and of itself was a rare occurrence due to the timing of their little quiet moments, and the sheer respect the other two held for them.

It was actually Boulder who found them the first time it happened on Earth, Heatwave recharging so deeply his engine was stuttering, with his helm cradled in Chase’s lap with one of Chase’s servos supporting his neck plating.

Boulder had stopped and looked, eyeridge quirking up in a decidedly learned human gesture, to which Chase merely brushed him off with a wave of his free servo and a flick of his field dismissively, returning to his datapad. Boulder, ever the calm, non-confrontational mech, had never mentioned it after the fact, drawing his own conclusions in the privacy of his mind (with maybe a few snapped photos for his memory files, just in case).

The second time, it was Blades who found them, Chase soundly recharging while leaning against Heatwave, their servos clasped between one another even in his recharge. Heatwave glanced up from the TV and glared at Blades with a viciousness that would earn him a scolding later, who skittered off without a word of question, a touch too skittish to try and ask the angry firemech until much, much later.

Heatwave was protective and touchy when it came to his Amica and their status, sue him.

Over the months, Boulder finally gathered some courage to ask Chase about their potential relationship, with all the grace of a thudding ballerina.

“We’re Amica Endura,” Chase had simply said after Boulder’s shy, stuttered question, almost smiling and most definitely pleased with himself, if the way tender emotion seeping onto his faceplate was any indication, “and have been for many vorns.”

“I see,” Boulder had replied, grinning and nodding, grateful that admittedly tactless way he asked the question hadn’t upset the policebot. “You two were partners back in the Academy.” It’s more of a statement than a question, prodding at the prospective double-meaning of the word.

“Heatwave was the only mech who wanted to be around me back in the Academy, given my… unique circumstances.”

“Unique—? Oh. Right. Sorry, Chase, I didn’t—“ realize, didn’t remember, didn’t know it affected your life like that— a frown, field tugging in, then Chase’s reassurance:

“It’s quite alright, Boulder. No bodily damage or any vulgar obscenities said, as the Chief says.”

“You mean ‘no harm, no foul’, Chase?” Heatwave entered the room with thudding pedesteps, looking between the two with half-formed suspicion lingering in his optics, arms crossed right against his chest. “What’s this about?” His field tugged at Chase’s with question and apprehension lingering between them, a silent what’s going on both said and not.

“Boulder was just inquiring about our Amica Endura status,” Chase informs, tone bordering on bright, his audial twitching in a different direction— most likely he heard something from upstairs, “And I find that we are the most probable source of reliable information about the subject, Heatwave, and our friend was merely curious.”

“Right.” Heatwave grunted, field tugging Chase’s briefly in something like relief and acceptance before patting his shoulder armor firmly and moving on, the brief contact exchanging both pleasant warmth and much-needed coolness.

“I think he’s a little…” Boulder trailed off, searching for a word that was less-rude than “prickly” or “overly worried”.

“Protective?” Chase hummed in question, helm tilting to the side, “I feel the same, but it is entirely warranted, given our past, and he is my Amica.” Chase says, like it explains everything, and, well, maybe it did, “I will stick by him, rites-willing.”

Boulder smiled in that soft, knowing way of his, optics warm. “Must be nice, having a sparkner all this time. I’m glad you have each other.”

“As am I. I’m grateful to have Heatwave for so long, and I’m want for nothing more in a partner.”

“That’s awfully sweet,” Bounder’s field went all soft, his affection tugging at Chase’s stiff field. “You balance each other out, now that I think about it.” Remembering all of the times Chase was able to calm Heatwave when he was on an irate, angry warpath with a servo to the shoulder plate and some hushed words exchanged in soft Cybertronian; all of the times Chase was stuck in a cyclical, logical thought-process and couldn’t see things from a different light had Heatwave telling him the facts point-blank, trying to drill his way through and urging Chase to attack the issue from a different, still somewhat logical connection.

Now that he thinks about it, Boulder recalls how Heatwave was always the mech that ran the warmest when they were on the Sigma, practically radiating heat in the endless, desolate cold of space that even they could feel. Chase was always the coldest, seemingly emanating a unique sort of cool that seemed permeated the space around him in some circumstances.

Opposites, indeed. But, Boulder thought, it was kind of fitting. Chase’s mouth tugged into that half-grin of his, “That we do. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Boulder, I have some studying to do.” And with that, Chase sauntered off, likely in search of his police manual.

“Huh. Wonder how we didn’t see it before.” Boulder mumbled to himself, shaking his helm fondly and turning around to go back to the bunker through the garage.

“See what?” Blades asked, turning the corner, “If there’s any gossip, I want to know!” Primus, he was sounding more and more like Dani every day.

“I, uh. Well, you see,” Boulder attempted, still unsure if the two Amicas wanted their relationship aired out.

Blades shot him a look, both teasing and intrigued. “Well?”

Scrap.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hello!!! Your writing is so beautiful and moving!! As an author, do you ever feel like the stuff you write is not good enough? Or your ideas have already been done 1,000 times? I can’t imagine you do, because your stories are pure gold. But if so, how do you move past it and keep writing?? Do you have trouble coming up with original content? I find when I’m writing fics that I sort of stop myself mid story with doubt. Hopefully I worded that correctly. I just admire your fics so much! Thank you!!!

Hey there 🩷✨️😘 And thank you so much for your kind words, I was honestly so, so moved by your message! I'll try my best to offer some advice and thoughts on this, hopefully some of it is helpful 💕

First of all, I sure struggle with this! I have days when I feel like deleting everything I've ever written because I think it's garbage. Those thoughts usually occur when I'm comparing myself to other writers and their work (which generally differs a lot in style, tone and voice, so it's kind of redundant to compare in the first place). Also, I'm not a native English speaker, so there will always be a gap I can't cross. I will always be one, two, three steps behind in expressing myself. Still, I haven't allowed it to stop me from writing and sharing my work. (Well I have, up until this year... But better late than never, right?)

That being said, we need each other for joy and inspiration, which also means that nothing we create is 100% original in the end… and at the same time, everything is original! You write in your own voice, and only you can have a new perspective or offer a unique take on an existing idea. But tropes are tropes for a reason; they're popular for a reason, so I wouldn't shy away from using cliche pairings or recurring tropes as key concepts. Besides, they're so much fun to write!

It's only natural to compare yourself and your fics to other writers and their work, but there's a thin line between getting inspired and feeling like you're not good enough as a writer. It's so easy to feel unworthy when you see loads of new, amazing content (= other people's souls and lifeblood, condensed into a brief flicker on top of our dashboards) every day. But when you start to think about it, there's actually no point in comparing yourself and your creative input to the stream of literally thousands of works.

Even if the idea is not the most original, I keep writing until something "original" pushes through. Sometimes it's a piece of dialogue, and that's when I get interested as an author. Why did the character say that? What do they mean? Why did I write this? What's lying underneath?

I don't know if you catch my drift here or if this sounds like nonsense, but when you get curious about your writing, it starts to gain new levels, you gain new ideas, and even the most "unoriginal" idea may get a fresh new twist. And if it doesn't… who cares 💃 If you write with passion, it shows, and I think that's what matters in the end! Plot holes, or lack of plot altogether, don't matter if you and your readers can indulge in your writing.

If and when I hit a wall, I have to check who I'm writing for. I may have a hidden feeling that I'm not good enough as a creator, or that readers expect this or that and the next thing I know, I'm standing in the middle of a desert when it comes to creativity. Writing to self-indulge (in the most filthiest way if you have to) will almost always fix this issue. It's a simple gospel truth that writing what you'd like to read, works.

I'm repeating myself here, but writing should be fun; the minute it's not, I usually stop and take a break. Professional writers probably say it can't always be fun, and they may have methods to work past that slump, but because this is fanfiction and we are doing this as a pastime hobby, I'd say better keep a light approach to it and cut yourself some slack. There's no need to push it or force it.

'Good enough' is an admirable (and understandable!) aspiration when you wish to be the best version of yourself and offer your readers something fresh and unique. I say the following with all the love: good enough is also the main idea behind a violent worldview where nothing is ever enough. It's the origin of self-doubt and the feeling that we're somehow always unworthy.

To a system that always wants more, and wants it better and faster, we as imperfect creatures and emotional human beings can never be enough. Didn't mean to get deep into environmental philosophy in a tumblr ask, but this worldview is currently destroying people's sanity (not to talk of destroying the planet and its myriad inhabitants). It's not easy, but I encourage everyone to rebel against 'good enough' as much as possible! ❤️‍🔥

So you don't have to strive for good enough, you only need to strive for what moves you, what makes you laugh or cry or simply makes you feel something. That way you'll know it will move others too 💋💞💃

[samuelroukin]

i just want to tell you that watching you post about the fics ur writing and having fun doing it and getting a little silly and freaky with it has had a really positive impact on me and i’m writing fic for the first time in six years and im being very self indulgent and having fun and getting a little silly and freaky with it! and that has a lot to do with you! so thank you for just being you on my dashboard!

please i'm so happy to hear that 🥺 it feels so dumb sometimes but then i'm like yeah but i'm having fun!! so i'm glad that made you go have fun too 💖 peace and love and silly fics on planet earth 🙏

[distortedclouds]

So, I've been wanting to say this for a while now xD (read: months and months).

You may (or may not) have wondered why someone (me lol) has been interacting with you so much on Tumblr all of a sudden, but there's a reason for it.

I've been a long time reader of all the work you've written, but you've never seen me in your AO3 comment section. I also never turned up in your dash here. It's been almost two years that I've been going through crippling depression and the usual other shitty things life throws at us for fun - and I had no energy or will to reopen any of my social media, nor login into my AO3 acc. I love nights but some were so dark and scary that I had severe bouts of insomnia. What did keep me sane however, was your writing. The first work I read was "I'm begging for you to take my hand" and I still remember how much comfort it brought me. Even your crack fics, you meant for them to be crack but I was restless to read them every night after awful days. More recently ofc, BW, ah god, I have so much to say, but that's for the comment section ofc.

In short, thank you so much for all your hard work and serious effort. For me when I look back on the last 1.5 years, I think of lots of unpleasant things but also, the good things and one of them is definitely your AO3 treasure trove. A light at the end of the tunnel for me. A warm blanket that tells me things will be okay. Always will be.

So thank you once again. Everything you've written (and continue to do so) brings me so much happiness and inspiration. Things are so much better for me these days and a big part of why I began to write again is because of you. I'm just waiting for my free time so I can spam you on AO3 haha xD So happy to see you on my dash too!

(ah none of this is sensitive or private info btw haha xD Feel free to post publicly. Everyone should know how beautiful your writing is!)

I've read this message like, half a dozen times already and I still don't know what so say. I know our time on Tumblr is relatively short, but it's always nice to see you on my dashboard, especially after reading your aruani fics and I'm honored to know that I inspired you to write

I'm sorry to hear about the hardships you were going through. Times like that feel like they could go on forever and that there's no light at the end of the tunnel. As much as I'd like to say "it be like that sometimes" I genuinely understand since both reading and writing fanfiction for the past 8ish years has been really healing for me, and I'm glad my work was of help for you. Especially with how feel about night, it can be the most devastating when something that we loved turns against us and becomes a place of fear and anxiety

On a more specific note, learning that "I'm begging for you to take my hand" meant so much to you is kind of making me reconsider and view it in a new light. It was my least favorite and everytime I'd get a Kudos on it and I'd internally scream 'nooooo not this one!! go to my other stuff!!' But yeah, it's already being elevated in my brains as I type this

I think in online fandoms we stress so much that fanfic is 100% self indulgent and that we write only for ourselves but choose to share with other. and while I wholly agree with that viewpoint, but I also think writing (which includes fanfic) is also meant to move others and elicit emotions in them, and I'm truly happy I could provide the same joy and comfort your fics provided for me

I look forward to reading your future works for as long as you're happy to create them and I'm honored to learn that you're anticipating more of mine <3

I promise I'll get around to updating BW soon!!

[saitama-division]

Relationship Charts (OC x Canon)

None of these are canon, this is just mainly for my self-indulgence

JakuSaya

First to confess: Both. It happened by complete accident, Sayaka had finally built up her courage to confess only to get blindsided by Jakurai’s, it still makes her blush to this day,

First to apologize: Both would actually, but Sayaka would apologize faster as she absolutely hates getting into arguments and would want to make amends immediately after.

Most popular/charismatic: Both. The two of them are both highly respected people in their respective cities and are well known in their respective occupations, with both of them in the DRB, their popularity has skyrocketed.

Best caregiver: Jakurai. Man is literally a doctor, what more can I say?

Does the cooking: Sayaka. One of her favorite hobbies is cooking and she’s always making meals for people, honestly, if not for Jakurai’s insistence to let him help every once in a while, Sayaka would be the sole chef in the household.

Does the housework: Both. It’s a team effort and actually a nice way to spend time together, nothing screams “romance” like folding the laundry together.

Speaks the most: Sayaka. She’s a very extroverted woman, sometimes when she gets going, it’s kinda hard for her to stop, when people point out that she’s rambling, she gets all blushy and embarrassed but others think it’s very endearing.

The overprotective one: Jakurai. It might be due to his past life as an assassin and the fact that he has lost an important person in his life so no one can blame him for being overprotective but thankfully he knows Sayaka can handle herself and doesn’t worry about her too much.

Designated driver: It depends, usually it’s Jakurai but sometimes Sayaka takes the wheel.

Has good penmanship: Jakurai. Every time he writes something, it looks like 1800s calligraphy, seriously, how can someone write like that?

More relationship experience: Sayaka. She’s dated a few people before settling down with Yoshiki so it’s safe to say that Sayaka has more experience.

Subtle to changes: Both. Jakurai is very perceptive (again, he was an assassin) and Sayaka is very empathetic.

The one who proposes: Jakurai. After much, much pestering from both Lola and Hifumi, he finally popped the question, it took him 10 minutes for him to calm Sayaka down and wiped her tears. (She said yes, of course).

RamuLola

First to confess: Both, much to the surprise of the other.

First to apologize: Neither. They’re both petty bitches, honestly every argument ends with them forgetting what they were fighting about and getting back together (make up sex).

Most popular/charismatic: Both. A popular fashion designer and a famous model? Honestly people were wondering why they haven’t gotten together sooner.

Best caregiver: Lola. With the life she’s had and taking it upon herself to take care of Kureha from time to time, Lola is actually a pretty good nurse.

Does the cooking: Lola. She kinda had to learn if she didn’t want to starve to death, it’s kinda a habit now even if she has the money to hire a chef. Ramuda eats lollipops 24/7 so it’s safe to say that he can’t cook for shit.

Does the housework: Neither lmao. At least Lola does have housekeeping.

Speaks the most: Ramuda. The guy is a walking chatterbox, there has definitely been times where Lola had to kiss him to get him to shut up (which 9 times out of 10 resulted in makeout sessions).

The overprotective one: Ramuda, surprisingly. With Chuuoku breathing down his neck at almost every waking moment, he’s more worried about Lola’s safety than his own. His worst fear is that they’re going to use her against him.

Designated driver: Lola. Along with cooking, Ramuda also can’t drive to save his life, in fact, it almost ended his when he got behind the wheel for the first time (couldn’t see above the dashboard).

Has good penmanship: Lola. Having to sign autographs and magazines has made her a pro at giving out signatures.

More relationship experience: Both. I feel like that should be obvious.

Subtle to changes: Ramuda. I feel like people don’t give him enough credit, he’s very perceptive, he just hides it behind a cheery front.

The one who proposes: Lola. She made one joke, once, while they were watching trashy TV shows and the next day, she walked into Ramuda’s studio to find him working on a wedding dress.

IchiReha

First to confess: Ichiro. Kureha was a blushing wreck after he finished, he actually had to prompt her to say something afterwards. (“A-AH! YES..yes, yeah…I l-like you too…”).

First to apologize: Kureha. She really hates arguing with Ichiro and wants to do whatever she can to make amends. Luckily, they don’t fight as much if at all.

Most popular/charismatic: Ichiro. C’mon, that’s a given, Ichiro says that he’s not that popular but all Kureha has to do is open the window curtains and point that the crowd of people chanting the man’s name.

Best caregiver: Ichiro. This is the guy who’s raising his two younger brothers, he’s practically a professional.

Does the cooking: Both, despite what people believe, Kureha’s a pretty decent cook due to Sayaka’s influence and Ichiro believes that cooking together can help strengthen a bond so they make it a habit to cook together for the household.

Does the housework: Both. Again, it’s a team effort and a way to spend time together. Did you know that mopping the floor is extremely romantic?

Speaks the most: Ichiro. He’s a naturally confident guy and has no problems speaking his mind, unlike Kureha, who only speaks when she’s spoken to most of the time.

The overprotective one: Kureha. She’s lost everything and nearly everyone she’s cared about and had to literally start over from scratch so you can’t blame her for being overprotective. She knows that her mafia days are long behind her and that Ichiro is definitely capable of protecting himself but still…she worries.

Designated driver: Ichiro. I headcanon that he knows how to drive but doesn’t own a car and uses rentals. Kureha is being taught how to drive by Lola but feels more comfortable taking the trains.

Has good penmanship: Kureha. She is an artist, artist have good penmanship due to signing each of their drawings after finishing.

More relationship experience: Neither. They’re each other’s first.

Subtle to changes: Kureha. She’s quite perceptive (and has a habit of just…staring at Ichiro, taking in everything that’s him.) so she definitely knows if something has changed with him.

The one who proposes: Ichiro, it’s very reminiscent of his confession, yes, including Kureha being non-responsive and almost passing out due to the amount of blood rapidly rushing to her head.