#snot my problem

[ghost-bison]

[fuck-customers]

Had a doozy of a customer interaction today, tldr: Man throws an absolute fit because I was wearing a mask at work.

The last couple of days I've been wearing a mask at work because my sinuses have been going completely haywire and my nose has been dripping, and I'd prefer not to be seen in public with a runny nose, management doesn't care since I don't have any actual symptoms they worry about. Today I'm running cash like normal, it's pretty early on in the shift, so I'm still in a decent mood, and I ring out this guy's burrito. I give him his total in my customer service, very clear and easy to understand, and he then goes "What was that? I'm sorry it's hard to hear you with that mask." Since the pandemic started that phrase has been an instant cue for me to drop out of the friendly tone and into a slightly more annoyed tone, and try to get the customer out as soon as possible. I am naturally a loud person and literally none of the other customers I deal with when I mask up have an issue hearing me, this guy was just trying to open up a conversation about my mask, which is just a black mask with peppers on it that they gave me during the pandemic for my uniform. "So is that mask a political statement or are you just too sick to be working right now?" Not a question I had been expecting, but completely straight faced while getting his change I assure him that I am not sick, my sinuses are just acting up and didn't want to drip snot everywhere. "If you're sick, you really shouldn't be working." I once again tell him I'm not sick, and give him his change, and he then asks if there's a manager he can talk to. Thankfully my ace in the hole manager that loves to fight with custome seers was on duty today, and came up to deal with the guy, who was once again trying to insist I was obviously sick if I was wearing a mask and I shouldn't be working, and at that point I was in the back of house, away from the line of sight of customers, and explaining to the coworkers in the back who had missed it what was going on, and trying not to go up front and throw hands with this idiot. I didn't hear a lot of the conversation between my manager and the offended customer, but at some point he did try again to claim he couldn't hear me through my mask, and I just started basically yelling that he was full of it because the girl working the back line about ten feet away, who was definitely further away than that guy was, could hear me perfectly fine, and I think the manager told him he was just being discriminatory at that point, and he immediately accused her of using the race card. She had to explain to him that discrimination isn't just a race thing, (she was initially confused because I am white, so was this man, but she's black, and he apparently immediately associated the word with race?) and after that she asked him to leave, I think he wanted a refund for the inconvenience (this manager also has a tendency to throw out orders when she's about to refuse someone service to drive her point home, so that could also have been it), which she gave him, but he still told her to fuck off as he was leaving, and I think I heard something about us supporting left-wing propaganda as well, but I was busy pacing in the back of house and screeching in frustration. I thought that was going to be the end of it, but apparently the man was so offended he emailed in a complaint, and I had to confirm with a different manager that I was wearing my mask because of my allergies. I was frustrated about that man all day, and I've already decided the next time somebody asks about my mask like that I'm telling them I'm hideously disfigured and they're touching on a tender subject.

[sunetopal]

Being a lesbian is actually so lonely. I'm in college, and I don't know anybody like myself. I have no lesbian friends or family members, and I've never even had a girlfriend. I can't even talk to girls without my social anxiety going through the roof. I know it's pathetic but I honestly don't know how I'll ever be okay and come to terms with my sexuality without having a girlfriend. Everyone is always like you need to love yourself, you can't expect someone to love you without your own self love. And it's always the people with partners telling me this. They have someone they love, and part of me is so jealous and envious because i want that. Why can't that be me? Why do I have to be lonely, single and sad? I want someone to choose me. I want to be desired in someone's eyes. I want a emotional, intimate connection with someone. I just want to be loved..and then there's part of me that thinks I don't deserve to be loved. That I deserve to get ghosted every time. That somehow, this is all my karma and that I'm destined to be alone forever. I deserve all of this.

It's hard when my feeds, whether that's Instagram, TikTok, and here are full of lesbian couples telling the world how much they love each other or how happy they are because they didn't think they'd find love. I've tried so so hard, but it just seems like love is something I won't ever be able to grasp. It makes me feel a whole bunch of emotions, and I just want to scream. It hurts.

[dontforgetthedragon]

a metric i go by for how good a piece of media is is whether the child characters are allowed to ugly cry or show messy difficult emotions when distressing or traumatic things happen to them or whether theyre relegated to emotionless or perma-happy angelic little props for the sake of older characters growth whatever they go through

[apathyfairy]

christmas is officially over which means i have 364 days to get a life and get too busy to go to family christmas or come up with a really good excuse to never see these people again

[aquareqia]

when will it be my turn to have an oc / character i stick with

[threewaysdivided]

For the ask game:

5. What character that you’re writing do you most identify with?

Meta asks for writers

5. What character that you’re writing do you most identify with?

(Teacher Voice) I love all my children equally.

Okay, but seriously, while I try to draw on tangentially-similar experiences and put myself in the shoes of whatever protagonist I'm writing, some are definitely more like me than others.

I feel like Danny's kind of the cheat-answer here, because his character is so malleable around the edges that you can basically interpret him in whatever way is most personally resonant. (I've talked about his complex relationship with his parents and why he and his show are appealing to the Ace community in other posts). I strongly identify with my Danny, but that's kinda because he's my Danny.

As for the YJ kids, there are places where I vibe with Robin but - perhaps surprisingly - the character who I share the most traits with is probably Wally:

Which might seem a bit ironic given how I'm currently writing him in Deathly Weapons but, eh, c'est la vie.

[m0e-ru]

walked into room turned on lights jumpscared by vol 12 on the bed like it was a cockroach made the most bloodcurling screech the neighbors would file a noise complaint

[sinning-23]

Hot Tatted Uncles (Uncle!SukunaAu X Teacher!Reader)

I’ve fallen victim to the unkuna/uncle sukuna au so HAVE THIS

PART 2 UP NOW!!! <------- Click the link here!

_____________________________________________________

“My uncle be fighting people.” Yuji hums, your gaze immediately shooting to the toddler.

“O-Oh really?” You gulp, knowing kids say the wildest things but after you’re first encounter with the pink-hair boy's uncle, you would put it past him.

“Yeah, he. He told me uh-um-.” The boy sniffed, wiping his nose with the back of his hand, to which you sigh and directed him to the sink as he continues his story

“Uh- he told me that he beat up this guy and he- uh he won and that the guy lost.”

You fight the urge to laugh, his sentence seeming so long and incomplete. Typical toddler.

“Well we don’t fight our friends right Yuji? You be good and keep your hands to yourself?” You encourage, ruffling the boy's hair as he smiles, one of the fronts missing.

“Yeah! We use nice hands.” Yuji repeats, leaving you with your thoughts as he grabs ahold of a car to play with.

Why would you tell a 2-year-old you beat someone up?! You sigh, scrolling through your contacts, making a note to speak with his father, even though the boy hadn't done anything, it's still concerning that he might feel as if that’s okay since his uncle does it.

It’s quiet for a moment, your other three students Nobara, Megumi, and Mahito playing together….and then it happens.

WHAM!

A still silence falls over the room and soon a roar of cries as Mahito holds the top of his head. In all honestly the child was a problem so whatever he did to get smacked over the head with a wooden block was probably warranted. But the bigger problem was that you biggest fear had come to fruition. Yuji, had hit and essentially started to fight with another child, as Mahito had hit him back. You’d definitely need to speak to his father now.

The rest of the children had gone home now, Yuji being your last child as you closed your classroom down. Your class usually ended around 6:00 and it was pushing 6:15 now. Just as you were about to make your courtesy call, the door opened with the jingle of keys and a throaty chuckle.

"Look at you, giving your teacher a hard time?" The tatted male asks, scooping up a giggling Yuji with a toothy grin. You, however, were far from pleased, giving a tight-lipped smile as he just barely glances your way.

"Hi, I'm Miss Y/n, Yuji's teacher." You announce, taking a tissue to wipe Yuji's nose one last time before he left.

"Uh huh," He responds, grimacing as you wipe the snot away.

"So, Yuji had a pretty good day today, but I did have to have a chat with him about..fighting and hitting other friends." You explain, feeling smaller under his sharp gaze. His face is tatted too, the thick dark lines running along his nose, cheeks, and jawline.

"You in here beatin people up?" He states sharply at the boy who only nods with a smile.

"Yeah! Like how you said you beat everyone up!" Yuji admits ith joy and his Uncle's face falls.

"Yes so, before Yuji hit the other child he told me that you...fight people and I told him that we use our nice hands. But right after that, he had-" "Hit another kid. The parents mad?" He asks, a bit troubled now, most likely mentally cursing himself for kinda causing this whole debacle. \

"W-well I can't really disclose that. The point is, please just chat with him and hopefully, he can learn that's not okay." You explain, feeling a bit more relieved since the convo went smoother than usual. And part of you was a little... flustered with how seriously he was looking at you. You couldn't help but look at his tatted and flexed arm as he moved Yuji to sit on his shoulders.

"Yeah, well, here have my number so if anything else happens and I'm picking up you can just let me know." He hums, pulling his phone skillfully from his sweatpants pocket and

Holy shit...

You think to yourself, seeing the print just faintly. You swallow, taking the divide and inputting yoi contact.

The pair leaves, Your heart trobbbing as you take a breath. Being any type of romantically involved with your students' parents was highly unprofessional...but the rules never said anything about hot tattooed uncles.

-in the car-

Sukuna buckled Yuji into his seat, passing the child a happy meal he'd picked up as payment for a job well done.

"Nice work. How bout next time you mention your Uncles got no girlfriend either." He laughs, backing out of the parking space with your number and a grin.

Authors Note; Ok yes i wrote this on a whim I swear I'm trying to finish the stuff I had listed on my update post lmao

Also might make a part 2 for this cause I freaking love this au

[feyascorner]

Please please please I am in desperate need of Astarion comforting Tav.

Like Tav is always comforting everyone else, but there is never anybody to hold their hand when they are scared or hug them when they are sad. Please let them be scared. Let them be sad, let them be vulnerable and let them feel their own emotions.

Tav needs a hug :,)

a/n. no you're so right because I AM ALWAYS OPEN TO TAV LOVE!!!!! This ended up a lot more fluffy and lighthearted than I expected but I hope that’s okay! :) also this is not proofread pls excuse me for the grammar errors that are definitely in here.

You don’t mind helping others, really. You don’t mind guiding Shadowheart to escaping her evil goddess, you don’t mind finding a way to aid Gale’s ticking time bomb, and you don’t mind spending hours in battle to find a piece of infernal iron for Karlach. It’s natural after all, because they’re your precious companions.

But it’s also made the thought of being something else—the one being comforted—more shameful than anything.

It was just a bad day, honestly. Bits of your life being pricked at with needles. The whole week had been hellish, but today seemed to be bent on finally wiping you clean. A battle going wrong, the lake freezing over and preventing you from taking a bath, the pot of soup you were in charge of burning to cinders—they’re all small, but they add up. And when you find that your favorite pair of gloves are splitting at the seams, it’s your final straw.

You stumble into your tent, barely holding back tears as you close the flap shut behind you, signaling that you wanted to be alone. You collapse into your bedroll, face first as even the blanket beneath you isn’t enough to cushion you against the hard floor.

Gods.

You squeeze your eyes shut, begging your tears to leave. The others have a lot more problems at the moment—ones that wager between life and death—but you can’t help the overwhelming burst of emotions you’ve kept bottled in for weeks now. So many bad things are happening, but there’s no time for you to mourn, because the least you can do is stand beside your companions in their own grief. It forces you to constantly stay alert, keeping your heart open for them but shut closed for yourself.

It’s so, so overwhelming. It almost feels like it’ll swallow you whole.

“Are you alright, darling?”

You hadn’t even heard him entering the tent, and immediately your shoulders tense as you shoot up into a sitting position, wiping desperately at your eyes. You know they’re red, but you hope he ignores it. “No, I’m just tired. I’m turning in early for tonight, sorry.”

He stares at you, making his suspicion blatantly obvious to urge you to continue but you don’t, forcing your eyes to the ground. “No need to be sorry, my love. I was just making sure.”

You want to throw yourself into him. To let him hold you as you complain about the more mundane parts of life as well as the feelings wracking the sobs of your chest. To let him soothe you as all you can do is cry.

But you don’t. It’s just not what you do.

“Pity, these pretty things of yours,” he lifts your gloves that had been discarded on the ground with a cock of a brow. “I quite liked them. But…they don’t seem to be at a complete loss yet.”

You finally look at him.

“Why it just needs a bit of stitching and some polish. It’ll look even better than it did before with my handiwork,” he inspects the fabric closely. “Hm, I was finished with fixing Karlach’s shirt anyway, I suppose I could spare some time for your gloves.”

Despite his words, his eyes are gentle as they shift over to you, and it makes your lip quiver.

“I’ll ask again,” he says softly, and you know it’s an effort in vain to resist. “Are you alright?”

Like a river breaking through a dam, you fling yourself into him, tears already slipping down your cheeks as they smear against his shirt. You worry about the snot for a split second, yanking away, but he just pushes your head back to him, sighing with you practically wrapped on top of him.

“You should have told me before things had gotten this bad, my love,” he says, no true judgment laced in his words. If anything, he sounds amused. It makes you cry even harder as you wail loudly into his chest, with his hand rubbing soothing circles into your back.

It’s like a breath of fresh air.

“Would you like to talk about it?” He asks eventually after what seems like eternity, and your sobs have calmed to sniffles.

“…not now.”

“Very well,” he laces his fingers with yours, and you tilt your head up just enough to see the fond smile stretching on his lips. “I shall remain here until you’re ready. Until then, I have no quarrels with our current arrangement.”

You mumble against him as he lifts your knuckles to his lips. “…thank you for this.”

“You needed this,” he replies, as if it’s obvious. “I’m not you, of course, which is why comfort is not my strong suit, as charming as I am. I much prefer blowing off steam in a bloody battle, but this—“ he runs a hand through your hair, gentle enough not to pull at any strands. You resist the need to sigh into the feeling. “—this, I can do as many times as you need.”

[vampacidic]

i need to study for bio but........... my quarry au..................

[sorrowfulrosebud]

The soft grass underneath you and Katsuki provided comfort as the two of you laid close together, hands encompassed tightly as your shoulders touch.

Both pairs of eyes focused on the stars above you, yet your peripherals were trained on the other. You had managed to sneak away from the dorms in an unplanned rendezvous after curfew, knowing that Aizawa was gonna ground your asses. But, that was future you’s problem.

“Katsuki?” You asked softly, rubbing your thumb on his hand. Katsuki looked at you and let out a small “hm?”.

“Do you think… do you think we’re together in every universe?” You turn to look at him, your cheeks warm and gaze soft as you peek a gaze at your docile boyfriend.

His eyes widened a second before he pushes your cheeks close to his lips, pressing a feather light kiss before nosing your jawbone. His arm snakes under your neck as his large hands caress your shoulder, the other reaching your waist.

“Either way, I’d cross every damn universe there is and join us together. We’re the perfect couple in every dimension, universe and plane. I’d be stupid not to chase you,” he promises, squeezing you tighter to star gaze with you.

The heavy metal of Katsuki’s armour proved too heavy for him to relax in, so it was left in a heap in the corner. The head knight had personally assigned him to be your royal guard, and the mutual (but forbidden) affections bloomed.

Carmine eyes were soft for once as his hair was gently pushed out of his face. His weary head rested in your lap as you held his calloused hand, pressing the occasional kiss. Your crown had been ditched, not caring for the silly trinket as you soaked up your lover’s attention in your chambers.

“Your majesty?” Katsuki coughed, cheeks growing slightly pink. You hummed in acknowledgment, slowing your movements as a silent means to continue.

“Do you think that, I mean… I’m not exactly of royal stature. If we were lovers in another universe, or if I were royalty and you were my bodyguard, would we still have this bond?” Katsuki asked, voice hushed as you petted him.

You gave his hand a kiss, before bending down and pressing your lips to his.

“Katsuki, even if we were two lowly peddlers in the street, or if you were a royal and I was your servant, then I would still pine after you until my dying breath,” you affirmed, softly petting his cheek.

“I knew you would say that, princess. It just hurts that somewhere, there’s a bastard me who gets to live our dream life without secrets.”

Katsuki trudged through the door, toeing off his boots as he enters the carnage of the house. You looked so tired as you had managed to wrangle the quadruplets into their afternoon nap.

Despite the baby food in your hair, bodily fluids and coffee stains on his your ratty old T-Shirt, you had never looked more beautiful. You were at home, taking care of the babies YOU gave him, taking care of the home YOU wanted to provide for your family.

He owed his very existence and life to you, so he can feel his heart breaking as he sees you quickly wipe your exhausted tears. You smile wanly at him as you go to give him a hug, but grimace at the idea of hugging him in your current state.

“Oh I’m sorry baby, I look a mess right now. I’ll go clean up for you so I don’t look so gross,” you say, ready to go upstairs.

As you pull away, Katsuki pulls you tighter and kisses you firmly. Your resolve begins to crack as he feels you tremble in his arms.

“Katsuki, no. I’m filthy at the moment, you deserve better-,” you start as he shushes you.

“Baby, you could wear a bin bag and look better than any model in the entire world. You’re doing amazing to take care of our babies and do everything else,” he murmurs into your ear, fearing that if you tried pulling away then you would completely crumble.

“You’re working so hard though, you’re saving people’s lives and I’m here crying over a few toys on the floor, baby food in my hair and snot on my shirt,” you whimper, burying your face into his beefy chest.

“(Y/N), you just pushed 4 babies out of you. You quit your job so that our babies wouldn’t be left with strangers. You still manage to get the house tidy, but you know I only give a damn if you and the babies are alright. On top of that, you manage running any of MY errands that I didn’t manage to do. You’re a fucking superhero baby,” he murmurs, squeezing you tighter.

“But you deserve so much better! You deserve someone who has time to put makeup on and do their hair and, and-,” you were interrupted by Katsuki shushing you.

“Baby. I would choose this life over and over again, no matter what I was offered. I will always choose you, I will always find you, I will always want you. I’m taking time off work to prove that and we’re taking a holiday together,” he said firmly, wiping your tears as you hiccup.

“I’m always going to choose you too.”

Katsuki and you sat comfortably on your porch bench, occasionally swinging as you nestled into each other. Today marked your 50 year anniversary, and the two of you chose a quiet celebration.

You had lost a lot of friends over the years; some were lost in villain raids, and some succumbed to their injuries years later. It wasn’t until Kirishima passed from a heart attack in the field did Katsuki retire, choosing to live the rest of his natural life with you. No more hero work. No more pain. No more villains or heroes. Just you two in your little country home with your chickens, cats and dog.

“Would you ever do it again?” Katsuki asked, his mouth lines trembling a little.

“Do what, sweetpea?” You ask, rubbing the soft loose skin on his hands. Katsuki sighed and looked away.

“Would you ever consider a different person? I’ve only ever caused you harm. My work, my personality, my overall being,” he asks, looking away as his mouth twitches. You let out a small “oh”.

“Never in a billion million years, my love. I chose you for a reason. I chose you because I love you, despite your flaws. We have had such a wonderful adventure together, some good moments and some bad. You’ve gained and lost a lot too, Katsuki. You’ve lost friends, mentors, family…” you reason with him, heart breaking at his shiny eyes.

“When it’s my time, I want to know that I made you utterly happy. I don’t want to leave you knowing that if you could have, you would have never had met me, never spoken to me and not have to deal with my baggage. I want to proudly say I lived my life fully and without regrets. YOU’RE my life baby,” he sobs softly, years of self-loathing catching up to his old and creaky body.

You wove your bodies tightly together, holding each other as the two of you shed loving tears together in bliss.

“Katsuki? You okay, pup?” Katsuki’s sandy ears perked up as he sat upright in bed. You knuckled your eyes out of sleep as you looked at your mate. He was often plagued by nightmares, even after falling deeply in love with you, after being abandoned by his pack.

You, ever the kindly human, took him in. Fed him, sheltered him, cleaned his wounds. 2 years later and you were his mate, sole confidant and lover.

Katsuki panted a little, before snapping his head to you. His hackles were raised, teeth bared self-consciously as he tries to calm down. You held up your hands, showing you mean no ill will. Slowly, your hand extending to your mate’s ears, rubbing the soft spot between them as he closed his eyes and slowed his breathing.

“Hmmm, thank you,” he muttered lowly. He rearranged himself on the pillow so he could face you. You smiled at him and kissed his nose, giggling when he goes cross-eyed.

“Do you want to tell me what you dreamed?” You asked quietly, petting his cheek as his tail whomped against the mattress. He huffed.

“Jus’ a stupid nightmare, nothing special,” he muttered, grabbing your hand and kissing your palm.

“I’m here if you need me, pup,” you told him, getting yourself comfortable again, trusting he would tell you.

“… my old pack got you. In my dream. We had a stupid argument, and I hurt you. You were killed,” he said quietly. Almost full of resentment. Your eyes widened, prompting him to continue.

“Are you happy with me? I mean, for fucks sake, I’m a fucking wolf-man creature and you’re a human. Our relationship is as unnatural as nature can allow, but we still play house,” he ranted lowly, fists clutching the sheets.

Your hand found its way to his, interlocking your digits and being mindful of his claws. Sandy ears pricked your way as you stroked his chest.

“I don’t care that you’re half man, half wolf. I love you for who you are, not what you are. I was aware of everything that you’ve faced, and I still chose to take you in. And I would do it a million times over,” you said firmly.

Katsuki let out a shaky sigh, before nuzzling into you.

“I hope in every universe we’re together.”

[natalievoncatte]

The palm-print panel was cool under Lena’s touch. She pressed her hand to the rectangular plate next to her front door and waited for the brief moment it needed to scan her skin. The door unlocked with a meaty thump and she pushed it open with her other hand, absently checking her phone as she stepped inside. As the system scanned her biometrics, it detected stress and dimmed the lights, automatically turned on the television to an abstract screen saver with cool tones, and began to play an arrangement for a violins to soothe her nerves.

She kicked off her heels and walked barefoot into the kitchen, where she skipped the countertop wine cellar and pulled out the half-empty box of Trader Joe’s vintage that she’d taken a liking to thanks to Kara. She pours herself half a tumbler full as a silent fuck you to her mother and took a swig, then walked out into her living room to sit down in the gloom for a few minutes and think.

Supergirl was sitting on her couch, head flopped back over the back so that her hair fanned out across the white leather. She sat splayed with her knees apart and legs out, arms resting on her thighs. Lena wasn’t sure if she was awake.

As she drew closer, she caught a small gasp. Supergirl had a black eye, and there were scrapes on her cheeks and the backs of her hands, the blood barely crusted. Both her hands and her face were bruised and she had a tiny split in her lip.

Lena placed the wine on the table, nerves jangling when the bottom rattled against the pale marble from the shaking of her hand. Her heart raced as she drew closer. Supergirl had taken off her cape and draped it over the couch. It was none the worse for wear but was covered in scorch marks.

Suoergirl’s broad chest heaved once and she let out a long, pained sigh.

“Hi.”

“Hello, Supergirl.”

She let out a little laugh, wincing. “Do we need be so formal?”

“I don’t have anything else to call you,” Lena said, coolly. “Mind if I ask why you’re in my apartment?”

“You don’t lock the balcony doors. You should.”

Lena sighed and folded her arms. “I said why, not how.”

Supergirl didn’t look at her.

“I just got the snot beaten out of me. Everything hurts.”

“I didn’t think that was possible.”

How was it possible? Curiosity tugged at her, but concern shot through it, making her fidget with her hands. Lena hated fidgeting. It made her look weak, and she could still remember the pain when Lillian cracked the ruler across her knuckles to break the habit.

“Can I have some wine?”

Lena swallowed hard.

“Sure,” she said.

She went to the kitchen and poured. When she returned to the living room, Supergirl was sitting up, hunched forward and leaning on he knees. Lena started a little at the sight. Sitting that way displayed the wide, muscular set of her shoulders and arms, especially her meaty biceps. Her back was a rare sight -she wore a cape, after all- and just as exquisitely muscled.

She was looking at her hands, at the damage to her muscles. Lena offered the glass and she took it. Her fingers were warm when they brushed against Lena’s, strangely soft.

Supergirl took a long pull of wine and smacked her lips, then winced.

“It’s times like this I wish I could get drunk.”

“You can’t?”

“Not on wine and not for very long.”

“Interesting.”

“So I have a problem,” Supergirl said. She was still looking at her hands.

“And that is?”

“I have to call off work tomorrow. These will heal, and I’ll look exactly the same. I don’t get scars anymore. But they’ll be visible for a day or so.”

“I see.”

“But I have to get brunch with someone, and they’ll be able to tell. Concealer won’t do much for this.” She touched her eye, wincing.

“Wait here,” said Lena.

She came back a moment later with some wash clothes soaked in cold water on a tray. Hands still shaking a little as she placed it on the table. Tenderly, she took one of the washcloths and dabbed the back of Supergirl’s hands, cleaning away the grime and dried blood from the abrasions.

Supergirl sighed. “That feels good. Thank you.”

“May I?” said Lena.

Supergirl hesitated, doubt flashing deep within the endless depths of her blue eyes, but she turned to Lena and tilted up her chin. With shaking fingers, Lena cupped Supergirl’s face gently and used a fresh cloth to clean and cool the cut on her lip. Supergirl closed her eyes and sighed.

Lena’s eyes wandered up, to the small mark above her eye.

“You don’t scar. Did you get that on Krypton?”

“Yes. I slipped and fell when I was a little girl. You should have seen me. I bled all over.”

“Must be nice, not getting hurt anymore. Not feeling pain.”

“I still feel it.”

Lena paused.

“I feel every bullet and blow and bomb blast just like anyone would,” said Supergirl. Just because it doesn’t harm me doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt me.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“It’s okay,” said Supergirl.

She opened her eyes -eye- and looked at Lena reverently, one pretty blue eye glittering while the other remained bruised shut. She smiled a lopsided, honest smile, looked at Lena in a dreamy, almost adoring way that-

Wait.

“Oh my God,” Lena breathed.

“Hi,” said Kara.

“Oh my God. Oh my God,” Lena whispered. “Oh my God, what happened, how did this happen to you? You’re hurt!”

“I had a tough time with a very determined alien and had to worry about civilians,” said Kara. “It happens.”

Lena’s pulse raced and her breath quickened. Her gaze darted, searching and noticing every detail. She was so beautiful, and she was so Kara.

“Why now?” said Lena. “Why this time?”

“I don’t know.”

Lena bit her lip, and the tiny gesture had a noticeable impact on Kara. Her eyes widened and her gaze fell to Lena’s bottom lip, then flicked back up.

“So your brunch,” said Lena. “That was with me.”

“Yeah. I thought about cancelling but I can’t. I needed to see you now.”

Lena shifted closer on the couch, until they were hip to hip.

“Why?”

“Because I just got punched in the head by an alien with big stupid bone spurs coming out of his fist and I need to see you. I won, by the way. It was really cool. I ripped a fire hydrant out of the ground and hit him with it.”

Lena looked her up and down. Her jaw began to quiver.

“Oh God. Is it worse than it looks? Are you hurt worse than you look, Kara? Are you…”

Kara shook her head, then winced. “No. Not that bad, promise. I just…” she sighed. “I’m tired of going to lay on a sunbed and going back to my empty apartment and spend a sick day napping on the couch.”

Lena let out a slow breath. “So you came to see me.”

“Yuuup,” Kara said, slowly.

Lena shifted awkwardly in her seat. Kara slowly reached over with her now clean hand and curled her fingers around Lena’s chin.

“Lena?” she whispered. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.”

Kara turned and leaned into her, pressing the slightest, lightest kiss to Lena’s lips, not a quick peck but something slow and soft, warm and inviting.

“Ow,” Kara muttered.

“Kara,” Lena whispered.

“I have any idea. Since I can’t make brunch… how about breakfast?”

Lena leaned against her, gently draping her arms around her as they fell back into the soft cushions together.

“Okay.”

[fire-lizard-ro]

Ratio as a dad (kinda). Written for my dear @pix3lplays (they already saw this when I initially wrote it).

CW: none it’s all fluff (kinda)

Reader gender: no use of pronouns (as far as I remember) but AFAB

Writing under the cut (SFW):

So when you tell him, he doesn't know how the hell to feel. You guys never really had the children talk, but you could tell that he wasn't really ready for that because of a mix of being too busy, not really understanding children, and never really thinking about it.

To him, children are snot-nosed, loud, emotional little gremlins.

But he never thought about children in the context of you and him. A child born of your flesh and blood. Something you have made together through the miracle (or simple science, as Veritas would say) of procreation.

It would take him a while to think of it that way.

Initially, since this is in the scenario where you're already married, I think that he would be fine with it so long as you're happy with it. He does his logical reasoning and thinks, "Oh. I have the means to raise a child and she wants it." So he doesn't really see a problem with it besides perhaps the stress it will inevitably put on you and having to deal with the messy and emotional rollercoaster ride that is children.

At some point while laying in bed with you after weeks of reading prenatal care and child rearing books, he begins to get curious. Curious about what it would really be like to father a child that the both of you made. That's how things start. Curiosity.

Would the child look like you? He would like that if they could resemble his lovely spouse.

Would they look like him? He would also like this as there would be no doubting who the father of your child was. A reminder of how the two of you were undeniably together.

Would they look like the both of you? He would enjoy this outcome the most as it would be the best of both options.

Would they have his intelligence that he prides himself on? Your smile that he loves, even if quietly?

Because of this process of beginning to be curios and thinking about the child yet to be born, it's not hard for him to subconsciously relate good feelings (and chemicals like dopamine and serotonin, he'd think) to the child themself.

You're happy when you talk about the child and what you'll do for them and how you'll care for them. He's happy when you're happy. He's pleased when thinking about how people will be able to see a physical manifestation of your love and belonging with each other. You're happy to be having his child. He's happy about that, too.

While your feelings regarding the child is like a warm spring day or a cup of hot tea just boiled, his are more mild, still. Like your tea, already cooled, or a warm blanket. There are positive feelings involved now, and even he cannot deny it (at least to himself).

He takes care of you well, following the advice of the books and experts to the T. Perhaps a little too closely because it's a bit overprotective. You're his. Which also means it's in his obligation to take care of you well.

But when the child is born... I think there's at least a spark there. I'm not sure it's enough to light that flame quite yet, but now... He realizes that this really is his child. His and yours. He has your pretty eyes but with his color. The curl of your hair and the slope of his nose. Oh. Oh...

This child...

As the years go on and he spends time caring for the child and spending time with them, he begins to find all these little endearing things about them. How they'll seek him out even in sleep. How they'll smile at him happily, the slant of it so much like yours. How they'll crawl and eventually waddle their way to him when they begin to cry... Even just the fact that he spends time with them is enough to grow this bond. And at some point, they're off to school and it's clear they did, indeed, have his intelligent mind. But they're far more soft around the edges. Much more susceptible to the inherent loneliness, boredom, and ridicule, even, that comes with such intelligence.

But... he gets it. He never really thought anyone understood him at that age and for him? It was lonely but he was irritated by it more than anything. He had thicker skin than his child at that age.

So when they come to him about it all, he can only try his best to let them know he gets it even if he doesn't know how to express such a thing.

Ever heard the saying, "Even a beast will love its child?"

He’s not a nice person. His personality is rough and no one would ever think he could be suited to something as delicate as fatherhood.

And yet…

While he's not one for grand gestures, I think the kid would be able to see he cares.

It's in the little things for him.

Talking about the things they're interested in at school.

Telling them about his work and the things he researches. Being patient with them unlike how he is with his students. ("They are grown. But you are not," he would say with a short pat to the head before going back to checking over their homework with care.)

Rewarding them for their achievements, even if it's with something small.

All sorts of small things.

(He'll never admit it, but you have a picture of the two napping while the kid was sprawled against his side, head tucked into his neck.)

Anyways ofisjgeo yeah-

Hopefully this isn’t too delusional goodbye- I was trying to make him a Relatively Good Dad for Pix while also making sure he was still mostly in-character. OTL

[ruporas]

lonely

[ID: A limited palette of green and pink, Vashwood comic. The first page serves as a prologue. The first panel shows Vash speaking to someone off screen while Wolfwood is lingering behind him. A black arrow is drawn pointing at him. In the second panel, Vash is buying donuts in the distance while Wolfwood is once again in view, lingering. and the black arrow is drawn pointing at him. In the third panel, Vash is leaving a cubicle and turning towards his right with a slightly peeved expression. He sees Wolfwood, leaning against the cubicle, waiting for him, and with the black arrow drawn, pointing at him, implicating the consistent hovering of Wolfwood’s presence during Vash’s everyday. At the bottom of the page, they’re drawn out of panel with Vash turning to Wolfwood and saying with an irritated expression, “You’re really following me everywhere, huh?” Wolfwood responds, “What, you got a problem?” Vash responds without hesitation, “Yeah, kinda...”

The second page starts with a new day. In the first panel, Vash is seen alone, weighing apples in his hands at a mart, with crowds passing behind him. In the second panel, he turns to his right and starts to say, “Hey, Wolfwood...” In the third panel, he’s startled from seeing a stranger, whom he’d accidentally called out to when he was expecting to see Wolfwood. He says, “Oh, you’re not him. Sorry!” In the fourth panel, the stranger walks off and Vash muses, “Right, he said he had something to do today...”

The third page begins with a close up of Vash's miffed expression, the continuation of Vash's thoughts, "Now that he's not here, this is just like how I used to be, but... It feels lonely somehow. Oh well, I'll see him again tonight, like always." In the second panel, it shows Vash walking through the marketplace crowd, alone. In the third panel, the door panel is a close up of the door opening with a peek of Vash's head. He says, "Wolfwood!" In the fourth panel, Vash is holding a bag of food with a bright smile and says, "Are you hungry? I got you something to eat today!"

The fourth page begins with a shot of the room, two beds being highlighted, one of them being made properly with the blanket draped over the bed and the other with the blanket folded and pillow sitting on top of it. There's no sign of Wolfwood. The second panel shows Vash with a disappointed look as he thinks, "He's still not here?" The third panel shows Vash putting the bag of food on the table. Stapled to the paper bag is the receipt with a written note "For Wolfwood." Vash's thoughts continue "He does like to stay out so, I guess there's no reason to worry..." The fourth panel shows Vash sitting his bed somberly with his thoughts continued, "It's not any of my business anyway..."

The fifth page starts with a close up his blank expression as he looks downwards, thinking, "Even if he left completely... That'd be understandable and better for him. I'll just travel alone again... like before... Huh?" The next panel shows Vash's composure break, tears welling up in his eyes suddenly, as he didn't expect to cry. He starts to sob, putting his hands to his face to quiet himself and wipe at his tears, as he says, "Ugh... Dammit... I miss h..." The last panel shows Vash leaning over into his hands, still crying, and in the back, the door swings wide open with a bam as Wolfwood walks through with the punisher swung behind him. He shouts, "SPIKEY! You in here?!"

The sixth page starts with Wolfwood confused, looking at Vash and Vash looks back, just as confused, with tears in his eyes and snot out of his nose. Wolfwood starts saying, "Ah? You..." No longer in panels, at the bottom of the page, Wolfwood takes the Punisher off of himself and starts to walk towards Vash, continuing with slight concern, "What's wrong with you? Did something happen?" Vash, hurriedly begins to wipe at his tears, denying immediately, "No! No, I'm fine! Nothing happened!"

The seventh page, Vash points towards the table, with a hand still wiping at his tears and he smiles as he says, "I uh got you food. On the table." Wolfwood looks towards to the table and responds, "Oh. I was getting hungry, thanks." He turns his head back to Vash immediately after with an uncertain expression, knowing the other wasn't responding to his concern, and says, "But, I know you're an idiot with this stuff, so I'm reminding you again. Don't brush it off if it's an issue, alright?"

The eight page, Vash's tears have dried and he looks to Wolfwood with a soft smile and responds, "Yeah. It's okay though..." A panel at the center shows a side view of Vash approaching Wolfwood. At the bottom of the page, with no panel, is a close up shot of Vash's hand, holding onto the edge of Wolfwood's jacket sleeve, as he says, "Because you're here now. Wolfwood."

The final page is a back shot of both of them standing next to each other, Wolfwood's head tilted slightly to the left, not fully believing Vash as he says, "That doesn't answer anything, Spikey." Vash responds, "There's no need to talk about it! You should enjoy your food. Let's have a drink too?" Wolfwood responds, "Tsk, tsk. Fine, yeah. I could use one." END ID]

[enteroctopusdarkysilis]

✨Kamino’s citadel challenge !✨

I am…very excited about this one. I’ve had this vision for a long time, and I’m so happy it’s ended up looking like that.

Now, there are a lot of things I’ll go into details along close ups under the cut; the only thing I’ll mention above is that I’m very grateful for TCW’s episode guides’ artworks, without which this would have been quite a hassle.

Okay ! Before diving into all the details and things, here is a view from above, to really display how big it is. Dimension-wise, the plank I built it on is around 110*70cm.

Now of course, the first detail which is noticeable is the floor, because, well, it’s everywhere.

This was probably the most challenging part of the build, because making a grid out of Lego is tough. Most of it is rows and rows of dark square, light lines, separated by 1*n tiles. It was the easiest way to get this pattern with as if it were just tiles; because this is one of the objectives I had here : most of this MOC is smooth, except for a few zones (usually voluntarily).

The fact I used this technic means that the floor in most place isn’t very stable, but it actually holds up pretty well because of some hidden connection points with the foundations underneath, which are mostly hidden under the cover blocks.

Here for instance, I’m using modified 1*2 bricks with a Technic hole : it hold the cover block, and it also attaches the floor to the foundation.

Of course, another problem I ran into were slopes. Much harder to get a smooth effect with the technic I’ve used, so it’s a bit wonky and unstable. Also, most them are not aligned properly, which is visible in the picture above (and some area have some really big misalignments because of a few problems I probably won’t bore anyone reading this with).

Now, since they’re also here, I can deal with the cover blocks. These were, among the details, the hardest to figure out, to get a good size while keeping some texture. Eventually I came up with this design, which, ironically enough, uses the same technic the floor uses, in a different orientation.

Another detail : the miradors :

This is one of the first elements I had in place, because I needed them to get a good sense of scale (and was made better by an existing concept art of a tower alone). Most of it does not have anything noteworthy, except for one illegal technic I used (can you spot it ?)

The pillar holding the roof of the mirador is using a technic I had in my toolbox for a long time, but had never had the occasion to use : if you take two 'brick' bricks and attach them perpendicularly on a snot brick, the small space separating the lines of 'bricks' align to let a 1*n tile in. It’s somewhat reliable (for an illegal technic) and an easy way to get octogonal shapes.

Now, before looking at the Citadel itself, let’s turn around for a minute.

This point of view obviously isn’t the intended one, but it’s still worth noting, if only for some composition.

Notice that the wall here is quite small (smaller than the miradors, even), and light gray; it’s in contrast with the towering dark gray wall on the other side, behind the citadel, which technically should give at least some impressions even to the people who never saw TCW.

Anyway, it’s also on this view that we can see most of my slope struggles, including the central one, which is the biggest I had to do.

And I can’t not mention the most important element :

What would be the challenge without a squad of clones to take it on ? These clones (4 privates and a sergent) are ready to fight ! Well. Kinda. I wish I could have actual cadets, but they are not part of the Lego universe (and the floor was enough of a fee, I can’t afford to get customs figures too). I wish I had the Dominos though. I have TBB Echo, and I plan to get my hands on Fives at some point, but they wouldn’t fit here, sadly, so instead I used some movie accurate clones (because all the others are used for a project I still haven’t posted..maybe later…)

Notably, I at some point tried to get the elevator to work - needless to say it was a disaster (it’s too close to the plate underneath to make something working).

Now, without further ado. The citadel.

I’m very proud of it. I got the proportions just right (I actually made some measurements to make sure of it), and there is just enough texture to not make it bland while leaving it as artificial. This alone took roughly 8-10h (which were all spent during an accidental all nighter, whoops), but it was worth it. It’s completely empty inside, and, in fact, the wall behind it isn’t full as well, anything behind the citadel is opened. The spikes are simple 1*3 angle plates illegally connected, and the walls’ small details were made with a bunch of modified 1*2 plates, there isn’t anything really special in it.

The only really complicated zone was the middle tower, because I had to put all the cannons while keeping it clean and smooth, and including the vertical lime lines. It was a fun challenge. And I included the 'flag' At the top, too, just a red transparent cone on a stick (there’s no need for more), which peeks above the gray wall (for composition and because of a lack of pieces).

Anyway, such a long project deserves one behind the scene photo :

Yes, my desk is messy (and include my mandatory tea cup).

On the left, you can see my remaining floor tiles, which have not been used yet; and just under the citadel, you might notice the foundations visible; it’s a checker of 2*2 tiles which gives my floor a good base to be fixed on. There are also some slopes which haven’t been placed yet (in front of the background miradors), and at this steps, there were no cover blocks or walls yet.

As far as my tools go, you might notice brick separators scattered all around my work environment (I never have enough of those), as well as a tablet in the bottom right hand corner (which i use to check and measure concept arts), and in the middle, the red triangle is an official (albeit old) Lego measurement tool which counts in stud, Lego bar holes and axe length.

Also visible, finally, is the bottom of the foundations, which are stacks of 1*2 bricks (each of the three floor layer is separated by a height of 3 bricks), which means that looking directly under it can lead to watching the dark basement of my build (which isn’t aesthetic…).

Anyway, if you read until here, thanks, I guess ? I still have a few TCW related stuff (a small one next week, some other in the foreseeable feature), so feel free to stick around and maybe leave a note, if you feel like it ? That’s it, bye !