#also might remove the last line so it just looks like i said it it would be so funny

[ao3screenshotss]

why be heartbroken when you can just be hard?

- ao3 commenter

[gay-dorito-dust]

First ofi love your Jason fic's, they are really great and they made me think could you write for Damian as well?

What about Damian x reader (gn or male pls) where they are really great friends but the family thinks they are in a relationship? You know the typical teasing girls usually experience as soon as she talks about a boy "oh is that you boyfriend" the same thing happens too Damian, and now he dreads bringing the reader to his house because his family always had something to say (except Alfred he's cool like that) and it also makes the reader uncomfortable. And one day Damian snaps at them for their weird behavior, telling them that they are the reason why the reader won't visit anymore

I hope this makes sense, if you don't like this, just ignore it.

Have a great day

Damian hated when he brought you over to the Manor and it’s not for the reasons many might expect. It was more so to do with how Dick, Tim and Jason seemed to always have something to say whenever you two were in a room together, only ever doing mundane activities but to Dick, Tim and Jason, it was viewed under an annoyingly unnecessary romantic context.

They firmly believed that in due to you being able to withstand Damian’s presence for as long as you have, that there must be romantic undertones integrated in every interaction between the two of you. The classic trope of friends being in love with each other but not knowing how to cross that line without ruining everything that was pre established from your longstanding friendship; Which was factually incorrect for so many reasons.

You and Damian weren’t anything more than friends and you both were content with that conclusion. However that didn’t stop you from feeling uncomfortable whenever Dick, Tim or Jason said anything about your suspected secret relationship that you’ve been poorly keeping from them. Damian hated that you couldn’t come to the manor without wanting to leave within the first five minutes of being there, he didn’t want to either but knew that you needed him for support whenever it does happen; and it was unfortunately an reoccurring theme within the Wayne manor.

The first time this happened you and Damian were in the library, reading. Your head was innocently resting against his shoulder and all because of the lack of sleep you had from binge watching the midnight release of the latest season for your favourite show. Had you been anyone else Damian would’ve laid you out flat but since it was you, Damian didn’t seem to mind but he then choice to chastise you for your lack to keep to a healthy sleep schedule.

‘You’re helpless.’ He stats and you pouted at him. ‘But Damian it was the last season! I had to binge watch it before people start spoiling it all over social media!’ You defended yourself but it was obvious that your friend wasn’t buying it for a second. ‘Tch. So was our test today but due to your habit of binge watching, and yet you just barely managed to somewhat passable score.’ He replied, not once looking up from his book as you leaned more into him. ‘Rude.’

‘I’m merely stating the-‘

‘Spare some room for Jesus there lovebirds.’ Both you and Damian looked over to see that Jason had entered the library when you were unawares and had a wolfish grin spread across his face. You tensed up at the implication, wordlessly removed your head from Damian’s shoulder and shuffled to the far side of the couch that you were both sitting on. All the while avoiding eye contact either him or Jason.

The latter (Jason) believed that this was done out of the fact that you had gotten caught but to the former (Damian) it was because you had grown uncomfortable with the comment made towards the nature of your assumed relationship to him. So all he could do without making the situation worse for you was to glare daggers into Jason, who only took this as Damian being mad that he interrupted his quality time with you.

The second time this mistake happened was when you and Damian were in the kitchen taking a much needed break from constant studying for the upcoming test at school, replenishing your hunger by wolfing down on some snacks. ‘You’ll choke if you keep that up.’ Damian said between bites of his own snack.

‘No I won’t.’ You rebutted, swallowing down the remains before shoving another bit of food into your mouth hastily and allowing for some crumbs to cling onto you in the strangest places, though mainly your cheek. Damian sighs and reaches across the table to rub the crumbs off with a handkerchief, muttering about how much of a messy eater you are. ‘Can’t even eat properly, never less sleep the required amount needed for proper functionality.’ He mutters under his breath.

‘Will you never left me live that down?’ You asked.

‘No.’ Damian replied without hesitation and you wondered if the question was even worth asking when he answered them in such a confident and sure fire way. Before you could get a chance to speak, Dick’s voice from the doorway butted in. ‘Do my eyes deceive me or is Damian being a gentleman for his lovely partner? Has hell truly frozen over?’ Damian was quick to retract his hand but it was too late, Dick saw everything and much like Jason, took it out of complete context.

‘We should get back to studying now.’ You said uncharacteristically stiff as you pushed yourself out of your chair and walked out of the room without so much of a word, shoulders hunched and head down when you passed by Dick, who watched in slight confusion as to what just happened. Damian on the other hand was starting to reach his limit with his brothers constant teasing, for how could they not see that it was clearly making you uncomfortable even if some of the teasing wasn’t aimed at you directly.

You took it personally on his behalf and he hates that in due to this it made your eagerness to spend time at to the Wayne manor dwindle. You were his first true friend and he didn’t want his brothers to be the reason you decided that you didn’t want to be his friend anymore. Damian wouldn’t admit it but deep down he was scared that he’ll loose you because of it, and that the only way to save your friendship would one day be reliant on your interactions during school hours. Damian knew he wasn’t the easiest to get along but he had to applause your persistence in wanting to befriend him, so much so that he didn’t want you ever thinking that he didn’t bother fighting for your friendship, because he would fight for your friendship with everything he had and then some.

For you’ve become a large part of him that he doesn’t think he could ever imagine living without now that you were so deeply integrated into his very being.

The third and last time you visited the manor was what made Damian snap. All you were doing was have a slow day with the added company of Titus, who was resting his head in your lap as you petted him; The poor dog missed you and it showed with how he whined whenever you dared to stop the pets, it would be made even more difficult not to as he would then paw at you persistently on top of all that.

‘I swear one of these days Titus will follow me home.’ You joked as you reminisced about the times when Titus would try and follow after you as pup and always disregarding Damian in favour for you and your cuddles. ‘He almost did once when you had to go home after our sleepover.’ Even Damian smiled softly at the memory of seeing Titus’ little head pop out of your bag after almost tearing apart the manor for the little mischief maker. He reached over to scratch the dog behind the ear -just how he liked to be scratched- and watched as Titus kicked his back leg in response.

‘He obviously still loves me a lot to be using my lap like this despite being too big to doing it anymore.’ You chuckled, looking down at the big dog with so much love and affection. Damian scoffed. ‘Don’t flatter yourself, Titus only likes you because you pamper and baby him.’ You gasped, covering Titus ears. ‘Don’t say that! Titus is still a baby in my heart!’ You exclaimed. The fully grown Great Dane then sneezed in his sleep and you acted as though he said something meaningful before looking back towards Damian ‘see, Titus agrees.’

‘Tch. You’re such a pain.’ Was Damian’s response as he looked away from you, only to see Tim stood a few feet away, watching you both much like how Dick and Jason did and Damian knew what was about to come out of his mouth before he even said it.

And apparently so did you as you managed to stand up, waking Titus up in the process, who was trying to get his bearings back as you said sombrely to Damian. ‘I’ll see you at school tomorrow, yeah.’ Before walking back towards the manor with Titus at your heels.

Before Tim could ask Damian shot him a murderous glare. ‘Batcave. Two days from now. Make yourself useful and bring Todd and Grayson with you.’ Was all he said before storming off towards the manor himself, leaving an taken aback Tim. His limit has officially been reached.

‘Why are we here Damian? Are you going to tell us that you need help with your partner-‘

‘Stop. Just stop with this nonsense you, Drake and Todd seemed to be hung up on because this false narrative you’ve created about myself and y/n is entirely make belief. And we’re suffering from it.’ Damian cuts Dick off but Jason was quick to speak next.

‘Why? Are you lovebirds not together anymore?’

Damian clenched his jaw but couldn’t contain his anger and annoyance towards this entire situation, wanting nothing more than for it to come to an end. ‘WE NEVER WERE TOGETHER TODD!’ Damian exploded. ‘WE WERE ONLY EVER JUST FRIENDS BUT DUE TO YOURS, GRAYSON AND DRAKES’ SHARED STUPIDITY, YOU’RE MAKING THEM UNCOMFORTABLE INTO EVER VISITING ANYMORE!’

‘Why didn’t either of you say anything-‘ Tim tried to talk but was quickly silenced by Damian who still had a lot more to get off of his chest. ‘WE TRIED BUT YOU WE ALL TOO BUSY TEASING US FOR BEING SOMETHING WE NEVER WERE!’ Damian liked to think he wasn’t the type to be quick to anger and how it was such a foolish thing to do. However Dick, Tim and Jason overstepped one too many times for Damian not to speak up about it, making sure it gets into their thick skulls that their weird behaviour almost cost him his friendship with you.

Jason, Dick and Tim felt stupid now and a little ashamed that their teasing could’ve quite possibly drove you away. It wasn’t their intention to do so, but they guessed that they admittedly got slightly ahead of themselves that they didn’t take into consideration of how you felt about all this. Now they felt like right dickheads.

‘I believe they’ve got the message master Damian.’ Alfred said as he looked at Dick, Tim and Jason who looked like a bunch of kicked puppies. ‘How about we invite master Damian’s friend for dinner so that you may tell them you’re sorry for your recent transgressions?’

Dick smiled softly at the butler whom had became another father figure to them. ‘That’s sounds perfect Alfred but only if y/n is comfortable to come.’ He, Jason, Tim and Alfred then all looked towards Damian who had calmed down significantly from his earlier outburst. ‘Tch. I’ll ask but I’m not guaranteeing anything.’ He says to them as he took out his phone to text you, adding a picture of an impatient Titus sitting at the front door waiting for you to come back for added effect, knowing how you couldn’t resist him.

It didn’t take long for you to reply with; ‘fine. I’m willing to bury the hatchet but as long as Titus gets to lay in my lap. That’s my only condition.’

Yep everything was going to be alright.

[chiiroptereh]

[Please zoom in, there's a lot of detail! And a massive file size...ouch]

Hi guys, long time no post! Been working on Art Fight and life stuff, but I've got something kinda fun for you.

This is a compilation exploring how a mortal Bill may interact with our world if there were still some kinda Euclidean instincts buried in there. Y'know, before the Book of Bill ruins all my headcanons >:P (EDIT: IT HAS BEEN READ. YAHOOOOOO)

Also quite an experimental piece as you can probably tell. Lots of details on both said headcanons and the art stuff under the cut, but I invite you to study the colorful texture yourself beforehand and think about what it might be representative of, just for fun because I got some really cool answers from my friends when asked :]c

TL;DR: the headcanon is that Euclideans have exceptional eyes for geometry. They find things like symmetry, tessellating patterns, graphs and fractals very aesthetically pleasing. If pushed into our 3D world, they feel comforted by the familiarity flat objects/spaces bring, as well as high-contrast patterns. Shadows especially are a familiar dimensional reduction that may bring them much comfort.

Bill would surely not be happy about these inclinations, constant reminders of a past long gone, but I'm not sure he's even aware of them here :P I think his ego gets in the way to the point where he just views these interests as common sense, which, of course, us lame humans just don't understand because we aren't nearly as cool as him. Of course he likes perfectly symmetrical leaves and staring at the kitchen floor, it's called taste, look it up!

And yet, he can't seem to shake the strange sense of melancholy he gets from viewing his own shadow.

~ End of TL;DR, long version below! ~

🔺 Headcanon Development

So, the catalyst of this idea was in relation to my friend and I's AU ( @love-triangles-au ). TL;DR, Bill's brought back mortal, meets another triangle named Y.V. (it's his hand holding the paper in the piece, actually), at some point they fall in yaois together, you know how it is. And, in writing a pair of triangles (or, more broadly, writing from the perspective of a different species), something I've had to consider was that you really can't get much further removed from a human being than sentient geometry.

The anatomical aspect was mostly figured out (see my piece on Bill's eye-mouth), but I wanted to consider what psychological differences might be at play. I wanted them to be weirder, more alien, double-so for Bill. At first I explored these possibilities through the lens of Bill and Y.V.'s relationship, specifically the question "what might a triangle find appealing about another triangle?"

Well, really the only things that came to mind were straight lines and symmetry, anything related to the geometric form of such a creature. That's more-or-less where that ended until the thought struck me that there's no reason this aesthetic appreciation couldn't extend to the rest of the environment, and then further when I realized, "wait, this is a species that is designed to live in a 2D environment. Like, they should seriously be really weird. I need to push this like 200% more."

So...yeah! I did some thinking and brainstorming with others and came up with a pretty long list of things a Euclidean in our world may be inclined to enjoy or find some level of comfort in. It's worth noting again that in this piece specifically this is a mortal/powerless Bill, so he can't really escape this Earthly environment. IF he's aware of these instincts at all (and that's a big "if"; when have you last been cognizant of your own instincts let alone known where they were stemming from?) I think he'd have snuffed them out in immortality and/or purposefully gone against them; he doesn't take kindly to being told what to do.

In order from left-to-right, top-to-bottom, here's an explanation for each!:

Flat objects such as paper are something he may find particularly engaging. It's basically 2D!

Tessellations are especially fascinating, and our world has them everywhere in the form of tile floors. Symmetry and such a predictable pattern...as the infinity of the starry sky might for us, the infinite potential of tessellations might invoke a similar sense of awe in him. Add on the maximum contrast of black on white kitchen tiles and the forms are only even better defined! A sensitivity to contrast would be very helpful for a 2D being navigating their environment.

Fields are flat and open, much like Euclydia itself. Laying flat may make him feel a little more at home.

More tessellation in the honeycomb of hymenopterans (bees, wasps and friends)! It helps that pain is hilarious.

The city is an absolute treasure trove. Rectangular buildings, precise architecture, square sidewalks and straight lines abound...he may as well be looking at a rainbow or an art gallery! I think a Euclidean's brain is very fine-tuned to mathematics, especially in regards to trigonometry. What may appear to be a straight painting might appear obnoxiously crooked to him.

Zebras are high-contrast :]

Another flat surface, another relaxing space <3

I think graphs are about as high as high art gets to most Euclideans.

I've touched on shadows before, and for good reason; truly they must be something borderline magical to the Euclidean and perhaps bitterly nostalgic.

This one kinda speaks for itself. Dweeb.

🎨 The Artsy Stuff

Lately I've been trying to find ways to fit more color into my work, as color is perhaps one of my favorite things in the world. My wardrobe is rather garish; my dad jokes that you could see me from space. My fursona is obnoxiously bright for a reason -- I feel my soul is a very colorful one!

I also realized recently that I don't actually know the exact style that speaks to me. I could talk about the phenomenon of the "style crisis" that many artists have all day, but in my mind the best cure for this feeling is to go against it entirely and begin stealing as much as possible.

So, I've tried to keep an eye out for more sources of inspiration everywhere I go, physical and digital. I've tried to train my mind into making a habit of considering, "can I do anything with this?" everywhere I go, and it recently paid off!

The glittery rainbowy texture you see plastered all over Billiam is this one, a photo-manipulated set of fruit stickers. I must confess I've been obsessed with this image for the past 72 hours, and this seemed like a good excuse to try it out!

I worried throughout the process if it might be so abstract that it loops back around to being horribly deliberate, if that makes sense -- like each sparkle was not a piece of a whole but rather an object in itself -- but it seems like that hasn't been a problem, so I'm grateful for that :Dc

I hope it can dazzle and delight you as it does me, but as long as you find it fascinating at the very least then I consider it a success! I really enjoyed hearing my friends' interpretations while workshopping it, and got tons of amazing answers from opal to kaleidoscope to fossilized bone marrow! I truly believe that the best art has some room for interpretation and it really excites me to be surrounded by that kind of creative energy that follows said pieces. That definitely adds to my pride in this work. It's weird, it's colorful, it's detailed and yet ambiguous. I'm feeling pretty autistic about it

Alright, I think that's about it. Thanks for listening!

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

hi! im 15 with awfully heavy periods and my parents + doctors (gyno, therapist, etc) think its necessary for me to get a marina (hormone implants in your vagina i think, im too scared to look it up if im being honest.) the problem is that im really opposed to it because i dont want anyone touching me downstairs, and my auntie said it would really hurt.

do you think i should get it, probably be really distressed for a few weeks but be fine with my period for the next handful of years, or keep looking for less invasive options that might be more expensive and less effective?

thanks!

hello there! thank you for your question!

so, first off, I'm just going to say that your body is yours and you get to make the decisions about what happens with it. if you don't want a Mirena implant, that's your decision and you have every right to make that choice, end of.

I do think it's valuable to have a full sense of what exactly you're saying no to, so if it's okay I would like to do a little walkthrough of the information about the IUD that you've been avoiding looking into. I'm gonna do my best to make it unscary, I promise.

Mirena IUDs are placed in the uterus, hence the name; "IUD" stands for intrauterine device.

there it will decrease chances of pregnancy by releasing small amounts of levonorgestrel. this will cause thickening of the mucus in your cervix (the space between your vagina and uterus) to make it harder for sperm to ever reach and egg and thinning of the lining of your uterus to make it harder for any fertilized eggs to attach there and grow into a pregnancy.

menstruation happens when your body rids itself of unused uterine lining, which is why many people find their periods are lighter when they have an IUD - less lining ideally equals less blood, less cramping, and less pain overall.

usually, this decrease in period intensity happens after 3 months of having an IUD in place. some people with IUDs - about 20%, certainly not a majority but not an insignificant number - stop having a period entirely after a year or more.

once an IUD is put in place, it's good for up to eight years, although it can be taken out any time earlier than that if you want it removed sooner.

common side effects experienced by people with IUDs are similar to what many people experience on their periods: headaches, acne, sore breasts, cramping, and emotional irregularities. bleeding for the first few months is also common; many find that their bleeding will be worse before it gets better.

it's also uncommon, but not impossible, for your IUD to slip out of place. there are several risk factors that make this more likely, including youth (under the age of 20), having long and difficult periods, and if you've been pregnant.

in regards to your worry about pain during implantation, it's not unreasonable. very few people that I know of would describe the process as particularly comfortable, and it's very painful for some. while the trade off of brief discomfort for 8 years of instant birth control can certainly be worth it for some, it's ultimately a personal decision and up to you to weigh the pros and cons to decide what's best for you.

if you're interested in seeking out other forms of medical intervention for your periods, there are plenty of other forms of hormonal birth control to look at. a similar method worth comparing would be the hormonal implant that goes in your arm and lasts for three years; it's obviously not as long-lasting but can provide similar benefits without requiring anyone to touch your genitalia.

I hope this helps.

[azsazz]

Come Again?

Ruhn Danaan x Reader

Summary: One-liner request from @writingsbychlo: “do you have any idea how to use that? do you even know what you’re holding?!”

Also for the anons who requested: "Omg please write more for Ruhn, our crescent city men are so underrated in this fandom! I love the crescent city modern world! I would love to see Ruhn using a toy on the reader maybe?? I don’t know if that’s in your comfort zone and if it isn’t I’m sorry but it’s been giving me brain rot 😭 I absolutely love your writing!" and "Ik you said you didn’t have anymore ideas for Ruhn, but…..Rhun with a vibrator that’s all I’m gonna say"

Warnings: Smut, vibrator

Word Count: 1,974

Notes: Fulfilling lots of requests with this one. 😉

_________________________________________

“Do you have any idea how to use that?” You tease, not at all embarrassed at the sight of your mate holding the toy you’d left out from last night.  “Do you even know what you’re holding?!”

Ruhn examines the pink bullet in his hands curiously. It’s almost a mocking manner, how he twists it left and right, like he’s trying dramatically to make sense of the toy to pull a smile from you. It’s not even as long as one of his fingers, he notes, mouth flattening sourly. It means to him that you don’t get off on how large he is, if something this small can make you cum just as well as he can. 

What’s stopping you from leaving him, if you’re satisfied with this? 

“You don’t need me anymore, I see,” he bares his teeth a little, jealous of the vibrator he’s holding in his hand. While it nowhere near compares to the cock that’s lengthening in his pants,  he pictures instead you using the toy on yourself. Ruhn wonders if the things the vibrator does draws the same noises you do for him. 

You roll your eyes in response, stretching your body long across your bed, reveling in the feeling of your mate’s eyes tracing the lines of your body. Ruhn tongues at his piercing in a way he knows drives you mad, but his gaze returns to the toy, narrow-eyed as if it might actually be the thing you’re replacing him with.

“Well,” you drawl, teasing a hand up your front. You want him to use it on you, set it to the fastest speed and press it against your clit while he impales you with his large cock. You shiver, tracing a nipple with a finger as you continue. “If you let me move in, I wouldn’t have to use that on nights I get lonely.”

Ruhn’s nostrils flare, pupils growing wide as you spread your legs for him, teasing him even more. Your pretty eyes flick to the vibrator in his hand and back to his, and you watch his face brighten, the curve of his lips into a mischievous smirk that spells out at least four orgasms as he fully understands what you’re needing from him and your little toy.

He flips the toy on and it reverberates loudly, sending shockwaves up his tattooed arms. He can understand why this would be pleasurable, especially if it has your legs falling open so easily, conditioned by the pink toy’s noises. Ruhn clutches the vibrator in hand, crawling up onto the bed between your legs. He looks like a predator, majestic muscles underneath his tight t-shirt rippling with every movement. 

“If I let you move in with me,” he murmurs against your skin, his words hot and breathy against your thighs as he removes your pants and underwear in one go. Your breath catches in your throat as he drags the pulsing toy across your hip bone and your fingers find his hair, tangling in inky locks to try and pull him closer to your cunt that’s pulsing with need. “I would never get anything done.”

“Yes,” you hiss as he nips at the soft skin of your navel, working higher and higher, dragging your shirt up with him as he goes. “Because smoking with Dec and Flynn takes up so much of your time.”

Ruhn chuckles, pressing his body flat against yours. You don’t know when he shed himself of his own shirt but you don’t care, reveling in the way that his chest vibrates against yours and his contained cock settles against your wet and needy cunt.

The texture of his jeans brushes your core and you arch into the bed with a depraved sort of noise. Gods, he’s mouthing across your neck, sucking harshly as punishment for your snarkiness. Oh, he’ll get you back for that one. The toy in his hand will make sure of that. It’s about to become his new best friend.

“We’re busy boys, Deer. Having you around will only distract them further,” he says against your mouth, stealing a kiss as he gently presses the vibrator to the pulse in your throat. They’re nearly beating the same rate and it makes you shudder and mewl, canting your hips for some of the glorious friction the roughness of his jeans cause. “And I don’t like to share.”

“Ruhn,” you gasp, fisting your fingers into the sheets. You can’t bear it, the feeling of him sucking marks into your neck, branding you with his lips. His piercing drags cold against your pert nipple as he makes his way downward, but he’s going much too slow, sliding the vibrator between your breasts in a hot line. 

Excitement stirs in your gut as you jerk faster against him. He’s trying to pin you to the bed with his hips but it only makes everything dig deliciously into you—

Your mate senses this, pulling away from you, ignoring your frustrated cry.

“Please,” you beg, eyes flying wide. You hadn’t realized that they’d fallen shut in utter bliss, working hard for the orgasm tingling between your legs. Your clit throbs at the sight of your shirtless mate kneeling above you. He looks like a God, staring down at you with dark eyes and a wicked grin.

“Are you talking to me, Deer,” he asks, holding up the buzzing pink toy, “Or this?”

You growl, exasperated. Surging, you press up on your hands, aiming to reach out and grab him by the loopholes of his pants. If he won’t give you what you want you’ll finish yourself, but the way he’s clutching onto your vibrator…is that what you look like when you’re using it as well? 

“Be nice, Ruhn,” you pout when he doesn’t budge. His blue eyes sparkle. Ruhn loves keeping you on edge. But using your toy against you is purely tortuous. 

He tuts, one hand moving to the button of his pants while the one holding your vibrator presses gently to your shoulder, a soft motion telling you he wants you to lie back.

“Okay, Deer. I’ll stop teasing.” You huff, glaring up at him. You’re trying to ignore the incessant buzzing by your ear but it’s calling to you, wanting you to shove Ruhn out of your room and use it because it would never tease you like that. “Do you want me?”

His tone turns utterly soft with his question. Insecure, almost. But your brows pull tightly together as you assess your mate and his unclear question. He could mean anything by that. Do you want me to go down on you? Yes. Do you want me to use the vibrator on you until your bed is soaked through with your pleasure? Yes. Do you want me to stuff you full of my cock until you milk me of my cum? Yes. 

Upon seeing your confusion, he clarifies. “Do you want me to stay?”

A part of you melts. Of course, you want him to stay. You want him to stay forever, tangled up in the sheet with you until the end of time, but it’s not possible. Your cunt still throbs for him, and right now, all you really want is to cum.

“Of course, I want you,” you reach out a gentle hand and he meets you halfway, intertwining your fingers. “I love you so much, Ruhn. More than I have ever loved anything,” you trail off, taking his other hand, the one that’s clutching the vibrator, urging him slowly to your awaiting cunt. Your voice shudders with pleasure as it touches your sensitive clit, and Ruhn swallows thickly. “But what I’d really love is to cum, by you. Now. Please.” You add, an afterthought, writhing on the bed for him.

Ruhn curses low, watching the way your body reacts to the toy in his hands. Your fingers slacken, then fall from his wrist completely, letting him take over. His eyes blaze when you whimper and cry out when he slides the vibrator through your folds. Fuck, you’re soaking wet, thighs glistening, his fingers drenched as he slips the toy into your cunt and his thumb brushes across your clit.

“I can do that,” he answers breathlessly. You moan his name sinfully in response, and it shoves him into action. His cock is achingly hard, trapped in the confines of his pants. It’s a struggle to get out of them, but he refuses to remove a hand from the toy shoved deeply into your snatch, all too caught up in your keening responses to the little thing. 

It’s awkward to try and kick out of his underwear while he still pleases you, but you don’t seem to mind the slight shifting and cursing going on because your eyes are rolled into the back of your head with pleasure, hands tweaking your nipples. “Ruhn,” you pant, “Get on me, please.”

He doesn’t hesitate and you moan lewdly as his hot body presses against yours again, drowning you with desperate kisses. You push against him just as fervently, hands eagerly roaming the plains of his muscles as he moves against you. The thickness of his cock slides against your soaking cunt and the vibrator that has your body shaking, but you want more. You want him.

As if he’s reading your mind, Ruhn removes the vibrator and presses into you in one fell swoop, forcing the air from your lungs as his long length meets your womb. He directs the vibrator up slightly, pounding into you as he holds it to your clit, swallowing down your loud cry. You press your breasts into his chest, and the scrape of your nipples against his pectorals is utterly delicious and your back bows for more.

It’s almost too much, the vibrator pressed to your clit as Ruhn works his cock into you with an eagerness you haven’t seen in a while. Neither of you had ever mentioned the possibility of using toys in bed and now you’re sure you’d be questioning yourself why if you weren’t on the edge of the most bone-shaking orgasm.

“Ruhn,” you cry, clawing at your mate. He grunts in response, jackknifing into you faster. The pulsing from your toy makes you shake, and he can feel the reverberations in his own cock. He’s drowning in pleasure, with how utterly soaking you are for him, the way you’re clinging to him and begging him to fuck you. The way your cunt clenches around his cock, coaxing his orgasm from him and your body drinking it greedily. There’s no way he would’ve lasted with you like this, but he wants to take you over and over again, all night with the way you scream his name, cresting over your own edge.

Your mate sees you through your orgasm, but the buzzing doesn’t let up, even when you begin to squirm and plead for him to stop. He’s buried deep into your core, loving every second of the way you convulse around him. Ruhn keeps his cum pressed in deep, and his teeth are sharp as they scrape against your collarbone, working his way up to your ear. You cling to him, rutting your hips like a goddamn whore, begging.

“Please,” your voice is weak, quivering, his broad shoulders lined with red marks as you cling to him.

“Shh, Deer, it’s alright. Just give me one more, baby. One more and I’ll turn the vibrator off,” he grins smugly down at you. Your hair is strewn about the pillows, forehead beading with sweat. Your eyes are shut tightly, mouth agape in a desperate gasp for air. What you don’t see is the glint in his gaze, the one that tells you he might be turning off the vibrator but it will in no way be your last orgasm of the night.

[farfromsugafanfic]

Stray kids reaction to seeing surgery scars on their s/o

Anon 🐻‍❄️

SKZ Reaction To Seeing Surgery Scars On Their S/O

Genre: fluff, suggestions of smut

Warnings: mentions of surgery, body insecurity, cancer, mention of disease and injuries

A/N: My first anon 🥹 thank you so much and I hope you enjoy it. Also, thank you for 1,000 followers 🥺

Chan:

Chan knew about your appendectomy scar and how it was one of your complexes, but you'd always managed to keep it hidden from him. He tried to express that it was perfectly normal to have surgical scars and that it wouldn't change how he felt about you, but it still took you time to show it to him.

Pulling up your shirt, you winced as the keloid scar became visible. Chan stayed quiet before gently running the softest part of his fingertips over the rough scar.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

"Sometimes," you said. "But not too much anymore."

He nodded in understanding and reached down to intertwine your fingers.

Minho:

Minho understood why you were scared for him to see your scoliosis surgery scar because he too had a surgery scar that he felt self-conscious of. While he'd sometimes caught a small glimpse of it, you always tried to keep it hidden. Eventually, though, it became impossible to deny the intimacy growing between the two of you.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he said, trying to lighten the mood with some light sarcasm. It seemed to work since you laughed and some of the tension in your body. When you finally threw your shirt aside, his breath hitched at the long vertical scar down your spine. It lined up with the curves of your body linearly, making your body look like two butterfly wings sprouting from the scar.

"Fuck, you're so gorgeous."

Changbin:

Changbin knew you had a tumor removed from your kidney as a kid, but it never crossed his mind that you might have a scar. While you sometimes even forget about it, there are times you get reminded. Someone looks a little too hard at your abdomen when wearing a crop top, or someone was bold enough to ask what happened.

You'd long put your childhood brush with cancer behind you, but when Changbin first noticed your scar, your body filled with dread. Would it be the last straw and he would finally find you completely unattractive and dump you?

However, Changbin didn't say a word and just placed his palm over it. He'd continue to do this, sometimes without even thinking about it, just reminding you that he loved every part of you, even the parts you sometimes wanted to hide.

Hyunjin:

Hyunjin noticed that you always wore long sleeves. At first, he didn't think much about it, until there was an especially hot day when you refused to take off your long-sleeved shirt. When he questioned it, he saw the panicked look in your eyes and knew something was wrong.

After a bit of soft prodding, you eventually explained that you'd broken your arm as a kid and had had surgery, leaving you with a scar. Hyunjin was silent for a few moments.

"Is that all? You thought I would mind that?"

"Well, I mean, you're so gorgeous."

"I still have scars, babe." He chuckled and reached for your sleeve, gently pulling it up and rubbing the pad of his thumb over the scar. He didn't say anything else, but gently leaned down and kissed the scar.

Jisung:

When Jisung first met you, it was at a large event where you'd had your makeup professionally done. But, the next time he saw you, it was a late night at the convenience store where the scar from a skin graft surgery you'd had after getting a burn on one side of your face. Compared to what it could look like, it was relatively minor, but the scar was visible and you'd only just got used to doing small errands like this without covering it up.

Jisung can't lie and say it didn't catch him off guard, but it only made him more interested in you. He bought you a pudding and chatted with you, deciding not to mention anything unless you did. This surprised you because most people couldn't help but ask for the sob story of the car accident that resulted in major burns to your face.

Eventually, you did tell Jisung what happened though it took time and getting over some insecurities. But, Jisung's openness about his insecurities and your insistence that they didn't matter to him helped you come to realize how enamored he actually was with you.

Felix:

You and Felix were both very open about your insecurities and who you are. However, you could never get yourself to show your biopsy scar. The scar was small, but noticeable. So, you kept it covered. As you and Felix became more intimate, you knew he would eventually see your scar.

Felix was a sweetheart. You knew he wouldn’t care and that such a small flaw would not affect how he felt about you. Yet, still, there was a nagging worry. When Felix does see the scar and notice the way your body tenses when his eyes graze over it, he takes your hand and kisses the back of it gently.

“It looks beautiful on you,” he said, as if he were looking at you trying on a dress and not gazing at your scar. His hand brought yours to his cheek.

Seungmin:

On the outside, it wasn't obvious that you had lupus, but Seungmin had begun to notice that you never drank—not even beer or wine. He didn't mind but found it a bit curious since it was not something he was used to with people around his age. Still, he didn't ask questions. That was until he was staying the night at your apartment and caught a glimpse of the hockey stick shaped scar on the right side of your abdomen from having a kidney transplant.

His eyes widened as he began to put it all together. He didn't flip out but did ask if you were okay. After you explained, he felt better but also felt bad that you felt like you needed to hide such a major part of yourself from him. From then on, he would sometimes find himself absentmindedly running his fingers over the scar when you lie together.

Jeongin:

Jeongin knew you'd had knee surgery a few years ago after tearing your meniscus. But, he'd never seen the scar. Of course, he was never actively looking for it but realized that you never showed your knees at all. When asked about it, he could tell it was a touchy subject, but a few sweet words and reassuring touches calmed you.

Rolling up your pant leg, you showed him the scar. It was larger than most other similar scars because your injury had been extensive. The scar—at least in Jeongin's eyes—wasn't too visible, but he made sure to give you a cute peck on the nose and encourage you to wear what you wanted since surgery scars were nothing to be ashamed of.

[himluv]

Reunion

Just a little (incomplete) exercise in what I think Solas and Riallan's reunion in Veilguard might look like...

If you like this, read their entire story Inevitable on AO3.

“Solas.”

He flinched at her voice, even though he knew she would come. He knew the moment she entered the Crossroads, felt the echo of her footsteps the instant she set foot in the Lighthouse. And still, he could not bring himself to face her.

“Inquisit–”

Trembling arms wrapped around his torso, Riallan’s face pressed between his shoulder blades. A shuddering breath and then, “you’re safe?”

Solas gripped her wrist, not to remove her arm from his chest, but to anchor himself in her familiar warmth. He’d been such a fool, in so, so many respects.

“I am safe,” he promised, and it was the truth. While he might be frustratingly trapped in a prison of his own design, he was safe in this corner of the Beyond. Of course, as real as their shared dreams always were, Riallan was not there physically with him now.

She was safe with this Rook and their companions in the Lighthouse. The lancet of pain at the thought of Riallan in his home, perusing his books, eating at his once lonesome table brought a sting to his eyes.

“I am so sorry,” he said.

She heaved another sob, her ribcage expanding against his back, but she nodded. “Me too.”

They stood like that for a long moment, Riallan crying against him and Solas holding her hand firm to his chest. Slowly, her breaths evened out and that familiar determination steeled her voice. “We’re going to get you out of here.”

Solas turned to face her. “Vhenan–”

He had not looked upon her face in so long. Too long. Long enough that the creases at the corners of her eyes startled him. He stood dumbstruck by the evidence of their years apart etched on her face. The creases yes, but also the laugh lines around her mouth had deepened, promising years of smiles and laughter he would never know. But the most stunning change were the threads of silver in her hair, now long and curling, tamed in a thick braid down her back.

His hand shook as he cupped her cheek. “Ria.”

Fresh tears pooled in those emerald eyes and she gave him the softest little smile. “You haven’t changed,” she said.

He brushed a thumb under her eye, tracing her cheekbone to reacquaint his fingers with the feel of her skin. Still soft, but not as smooth as the last time he’d been permitted to touch her this way. He blinked, surprised by the wetness that spilled onto his cheek.

She shushed him, wiping away his tears. But somehow that only made it worse. Even after more than a decade in this world he could not comprehend the passing of time. He’d misjudged the weight of years on mortal bodies and with every reunion he felt the cost of his failures more acutely. First Varric, and now her? His heart?

“I’ve wasted so much time,” he whispered.

Riallan shook her head, though he knew she didn’t disagree with him. “That doesn’t matter now,” she said. “All that matters is that you’re safe and that we find a way to get you out of here.”

Solas’s stomach dropped, his jaw clenched, and it was enough for her to notice. Those emerald eyes bored into him, demanding answers once more. “Ria…”

“You can be released,” she said, as if simply claiming so would make it true. “If you can enter this cage then you can be released from it.”

“Yes,” he said, but there was no hope in his voice.

“Then, what?”

He swallowed against a fresh wave of emotion that swelled up from his chest. “The only way to release me back into the physical world–” he took a deep breath and looked her in the eye “–would be to destroy the Veil. Completely.”

[lady-harrowhark]

hello, can you explain to me in more clarity your “waxen” theory regarding Ianthe? I’m not picking up on what this implies but it’s making my brain itch.

Sort of! Totally fair question, I just don't have a lot of clarity myself in that I don't have a fully formed theory lol. There's definitely some links and parallels in verbiage that are pinging on my radar, so I do think something's funky, but I wouldn't say I'm fully on board with this yet. I'm just playing in the sandbox Tamsyn has provided us, tossing out ideas and thinking out loud. But I can go into some more detail, and add some more thoughts that have occurred to me since I posted that last night.

(Here's a link to the post in question, for context)

Anyway! So let's first lay out all the times we get someone described as some type of wax. At various points in HtN, we get the descriptions "a shoddy wax cast of some more beautiful sculpture," a "wax figure in a pink dolly dress," a "wax figure in pale purple chiffon," and "waxen face" for Ianthe. We also see that descriptor used a few other times for other people throughout the series. In GtN, Harrow's parents' bodies are called "waxy" and the first introduction of Protesilaus (as the beguiling corpse) says he was "waxen looking in the sunlight." In NtN, Kiriona's skin is said to have a "weird, waxy quality," then Naberius's skin is called "waxen" when they first meet up with Ianthe, and again a few pages later it again references the "waxen, handsome face". What I'm getting at here is that every time this sort of description is deployed, it's in reference to a dead body that's been preserved, manipulated, and is essentially masquerading as a living person... except for Ianthe.

We also know there are a multitude of times that she's described as looking like a poor copy of Coronabeth. There's that "shoddy wax cast of some more beautiful sculpture" line, her first introduction calls her a "starved shadow" of her sister ("or the first an illuminated reflection [of Ianthe]," and actually, off the top of my head I don't know that we ever see their descriptions framed that way again... I'd have to investigate this more later, but this might be the only time that Corona is described as a "better" version of Ianthe, rather than Ianthe being a "worse" version of Corona, which is interesting), there's a point where it says "The second twin was as though the first had been taken to pieces and put back together without any genius. She wore a robe of the same cloth and colour, but on her it was a beautiful shroud on a mummy," etc etc etc. I know there's more, but I'm too lazy to go pull the rest of the quotes and you get the picture by this point I'm sure. So nearly all of these situate her, at least visually, as a copy or approximation of Coronabeth, and one that doesn't quite live up to original at that.

So now let's pick apart this snippet of conversation we overhear between Silas and Ianthe at Magnus and Abigail's dinner party a bit. Ianthe says she was born via "surgical means," which I'm assuming is referring to a C-section delivery (or whatever the necromantic equivalent is) and notes that Corona is a few minutes older. Silas seems surprised (or perhaps concerned?) that they "risked intervention" and Ianthe says Corona had "removed [her] source of oxygen". At this point Silas says, "A wasted opportunity, I'd think." I had always taken this for him just being a dick and implying he wished she'd died in the womb, but coming back to it with this new angle... well. She says "Corona's birth put my survivability somewhere around definite nil." And I'm wondering if that doesn't tie to Harrow's comment about infant deaths generating "enough thanergy to take out the entire planet." Basically, could Silas have been implying that the Tridentarii's parents wasted an opportunity to use the thanergy from baby Ianthe's death to power up Corona?

Harrow says that twins are an ill omen, but the text hasn't come back to that as of yet. Given the difficulty necromancers experience with pregnancy, I'd imagine twins would could be especially dangerous and that in and of itself could be considered an ill omen. Ianthe's comments certainly suggest that their mother carried the pregnancy, although I don't think we know for certain whether she was a necromancer. I am so intensely curious about the Tridentarii's childhood and their parents; we get so many gestures towards some really twisted family dynamics, but very little in the way of concrete explanations. Particularly relevant here, I'd love to know more about their father wanting a "matched set" and how that came about. Did they intentionally plan for twins from the start? Was it only once they knew they were having twins that that became a factor? What's the significance there?

Outside of those "waxy" descriptors, Ianthe tends to be described as much more sickly looking than even other necromancers. We know that necromancers on the whole tend towards a phenotype of physical weakness, but even still, there's an emphasis on this with Ianthe beyond that. This might be due in part to narrator bias (coughGideoncough) or the direct juxtaposition between her and Coronabeth's vivaciousness, but what really jumps out at me as contributing to this effect is how frequently she's described as being colorless, pale, washed out, bloodless, pallid, anemic, etc etc etc. It very much makes me think of the way the color drains away from Colum (and even the rest of the room and the others in it) when Silas is siphoning. Silas himself is also often described as colorless ("mayonnaise uncle," "milk man") but not so much in a way that implies frailty as much as I read it as implying a stark coldness, in line with the very black-and-white moral authority he presumes to wield, a purported "purity", much different than Ianthe's colorlessness. With Ianthe, you get a sense that her palette ought to have been or perhaps was closer to Corona's, but the color's been drained away; where Corona's hair is described as golden, Ianthe's is "canned butter", for example. Almost like the life's been siphoned out, one might say.

So to kind of circle back around, do I actually think Ianthe is dead or a corpse like the other "wax" figures we've seen? Nah. Between Harrow and Palamedes, and especially Palamedes's medical necromancy, I think we would have heard about it by now if that were the case. But I do think it's entirely plausible that she's had a bit of a brush with death and that perhaps she's never quite fully come back from, and I do think she's being intentionally positioned as somewhat adjacent to death. If their parents were wanting twins from the outset, perhaps they used necromantic means to encourage the conception. Or if the pregnancy was as high-risk as I suspect it was, perhaps she'd died or nearly died at birth and been resuscitated. Their parents may have gone to extremes to keep her alive, to maintain their matched set. Given the themes of this series, I do feel it's necessary to draw a distinction between "resuscitation" and "resurrection" although they are curiously adjacent to one another. For all the text has grappled with dying and staying dead, dying and coming back, dying and choosing whether or not to return... we haven't touched on what something like a "near death experience" would look like. I'd imagine having that sort of experience, even at an incredibly young age, might lead one to be fascinated with, to use Ianthe's own words, "the place between death and life... the place between release and disappearance."

[alicentsgf]

why are people so pressed about how Alicent ends up this season??? Like hotd hasn’t been good since s1 people also criticized everything back then but tbh Alicent from s1 was always headed to where she ends up?? I thought it was common knowledge that her last choice would always going to be duty vs love and s1 stated very well that Rhaenyra is that freedom for Alicent???? I absolutely hated the things they put Alicent through (alicole sex and for what? All of her sons being a dick to her??) her arc this season was badly executed but to blame and think that the writers are catering to rhaenicents? seems a bit stretch when the ship is hated by the majority of the show. We can argue in the journey of how Alicent get to the point she is now but it was clear for the beginning that the head of TG?? She would never be, sometimes I think that thanks to most of the general viewers didn’t understand Alicent as a character the writers thought if we put her in these humiliating scenes the viewers would understand that she is a victim of the patriarchy and the men who surround her, but I guess not even with that the GA and fandom as whole could ever understand her character and honestly im good with it, she’s a walking contradiction and i have read her character like that since the beginning, good riddance tho to the obnoxious people that kept bad talking Olivia for only doing her job (this is not a dig to you but the extended fandom that are attacking Olivia again for her character)

Why are we upset now? Because we dared to hope lmao. And now we're realising theres absolutely no coming back from this (it was already mostly ruined i know).

I think the issue is the choice between duty and love should have been made when she chose her children and grandchildren over viserys wish for rhaenyra to rule. Choosing love didnt have to and shouldnt have meant choosing rhaenyra. Like finally FINALLY she lets herself cast duty aside, because "what is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms", "you never love anything in the world the way you love your first child", "you imbecile (affectionate)", etc etc. That is what works in line with the original story AND the sympathetic sides of alicent we saw with in season 1. Sure motherhood shouldn't define women but this is a story abt a fucking lineage !! What do people expect. Of course its going to be about parents and children.

F&B might have been bare bones, but it at least had a strong political backbone to it thats been completely removed this season. That direction would have offered more oppertunities for alicent to be explored as a multifacted character. The problem is that because they angled this as a story primarily about misogyny rather than a story about the inevitability of the targaryen line imploding, they maybe thought they couldnt do that without making alicent look like an unsympathetic agent of patriarchy. (Most of the audience read her that way anyway so they did a pretty crappy job avoiding it). Rhaenyra represented a certain freedom for alicent in the story, sure, im not against that at all, but for the writers to suggest literally being with Rhaenyra is what alicent needs to do to achieve freedom from duty? To free herself from the shackles or patriarchy?? (🙄) Its so laughable. Alicents little grandson had to have his head sown back on for his funeral and Rhaenyras faction sent the assassin. Her daughter was traumatised. You dont just fucking come back from that. Really we should have known when viserys died how this was gonna go and I think in some ways we did because a big number of us were upset with the misunderstanding then, we just didnt want to believe what this signaled about where they were taking alicent. People are upset now because alicents character has become totally unrectifiable. We just never believed they'd diverge so much from the known plot points of fire and blood.

As for this bit you said:

" I think that thanks to most of the general viewers didn’t understand Alicent as a character the writers thought if we put her in these humiliating scenes the viewers would understand that she is a victim of the patriarchy and the men who surround her, but I guess not even with that the GA and fandom as whole could ever understand her character and honestly im good with it, she’s a walking contradiction and i have read her character like that since the beginning."

I have thought this myself and unfortunately I think you're right. In an effort to make alicent sympathetic they have created the most convoluted character i've ever laid my eyes on. Towards the end of season 1 we were already saying her being so forgiving after driftmark made no sense, but i was compelled enough by her because of olivias performance of that scene with the knife to be willing to wait to see where they took her this season. And its been an exercise in more of the same stupid shit. The issues in season 1 have just been amplified by the realisation that season 2 is just the same thing again and again and again for alicent. Shes just a punching bag and im sure thats in an attempt to get the audience to feel bad for her, because i cant see any other reason for it, but its just so badly written that shes no longer compelling or interesting or likeable really at all. Theres nothing to root for when you dont know who someone is. I have so little to say about her this season and that hurts honestly. Olivias performances deserved much better writing.

[luveline]

Ooh since you’re looking for Sirius requests: how about Sirius with a reader whos very sleepy and cuddly and drowsy??

i did shy!reader I hope that's okay! like shy when NOT tired, so sirius gets surprised and affectionate too ♡ fem!reader

"What's the matter with you?" Sirius asks.

You stop rubbing your eyes to peek at him, surprised. "Nothing," you say honestly.

He takes your arm to stop passerbys from trampling you where you stand in the middle of the pavement. It's dark, but the city centre is well lit, late October drizzle kissing the tops of your heads. When he realises you aren't going to move away, Sirius pulls you under the awning of a nearby cafe, the smell of cinnamon and fresh fried donuts thick in the air.

"Are you tired?" he asks. "I thought you'd last a little longer. You didn't get up until two."

"Think I messed up my body clock."

He grins at your usual sheepishness, guilt an undertone as he says, "Think maybe I'm the one that messed up your body clock, poor thing."

You wave your hand, a common gesture for you that means Sirius, shut the fuck up. Please.

Though you've never said fuck in front of him. That part is imagined. And enjoyable! He daydreams of your shy features pinched into a curse and has to wrap his arm around your shoulders to contain his fondness.

He gives you a good shake, thinking you're going to remove yourself from his affections any second now. He'd hoped his official status as your boyfriend might encourage you to be more openly yourself with him. No such luck yet.

Not that Sirius doesn't love you like this. You're perfect, he doesn't care if it takes you a little while to warm up to certain actions or if talking about your feelings makes you giggle nervously. But he also doesn't want you to have to deal with the silent internal battles of being shy. Doesn't want you to think you can't be whoever it is that you are without apology.

"Sorry," you say, because of course you do, face fallen into the skin just shy of his armpit, "s'like my eyes are giving up."

Your quietness doesn't startle him but your actions do. Affection from you is thick and sweet when he gets it, but sparse, like the slow drip of a syrup spire. This open show of fondness throws him for a loop. Several loops.

"Nah, don't be," he says quickly.

Not his coolest line.

"You're so..." You either forget you're talking or give up. Sirius can't believe it. You're his, you always have been, and seeing it this clearly is nothing short of an epiphany. He couldn't be more in love — not with your pretty features creased in fatigue, not with your hand on his hip, not with your fingers toying with his belt loop. He think this might be the most he can ever love anyone or anything, his tired girl, but then you remember what it is you'd been attempting to say. "So lovely."

Oh my god, he thinks.

"You want to get donuts before we go home?" he asks. He needs to spoil you. Donuts were the first thing he thought of; if you want something else, he can make that happen. Whatever you want, you can have.

"With the powder sugar?"

He squints at the donut truck across the cobblestone square. The picture on the display menu looks like donuts covered in powdered sugar but the light rain obscures it just enough that he's unsure. He doesn't want to make promises he can't keep. He'll just have to keep it.

Even if that means visiting every dessert truck or patisserie in the whole city.

"Obviously powdered sugar ones," he says, nosing at your forehead indulgently.

You laugh all pleased and peony-pretty, your glossy lips and glassy eyes both shining in the white lamppost light as you lift your chin to smile at him. You look soft as a petal. He wants to feel your skin under his fingertips and decide for himself if it's true and he almost does, but you pitch your face down into his neck before he can get there.

"You might have to carry me, baby," you say. Apologetic, hands clasping around his waist to lock him in place.

"Done. Donuts first?"

"Yes."

He knows you're a ticking time bomb and that every second spent here under the awning with you is another second he'll spend coaxing your sleepy body into the car, into the flat and into bed, but for now he holds you against him and rubs your upper arm.

A slow, slow drag.

[sonicjustbecause]

The Sonic 3 Trailer lacks of both spoiler and context, and that is about how a trailer should be. We already know what it is about. We only needed to see few scenes to make sure it might look good (or bad, it depends on what we except).

Now, I've seen a couple of crazy theories I've read and I believe both of them won't happen. I'll explain

Tom getting killed

Won't happens anything different to Tom that didn't happen before. he will be at worst knock out/neutralized and go off screen. Like in Sonic 1 (punched by Eggman) and Sonic 2 (encircled by flames)

Such happening would be the complete Shadow's assasination as character. We as fan won't forgive him and also this would push Shadow in the villains realm.

The past characterization.

Original Shadow (Adventure/Heroes/06) was very tame. There is a video on YT that analyze how Shadow behaves toward the world and underline the lack of destruction and violence in SA2, as opposite as we see in Sonic X and ShtH05.

in Sonic-X they changed slightly Shadow's personality, removing his intellectual and contemplative nature and replacing it with a more brash and violent personality. But even there, they prevented Shadow from killing Cosmo, making him acting like a cat who plays with his prey instead of being efficient (slow pace, talking, missing aim despite the short distance and when the thing failed just giving up on that). Shadow could have act smartly simply killing Cosmo in her sleep. As I say, I think they wanted to save his reputation.

In Sonic Force he indeed killed Infinite's squad. His first kill, most likely. Small fries, while leaving the boss alive, evil and stupid considering the aftermath. They saved Shadow's reputation by making Infinite lame and obnoxious and by not showing his gang at all (so we don't get attachted and we still cheer for Shadow). Sort of telling without actually showing anything.

Similar cases and why those characters have been tamed out.

Lupin III had a super rough star. His author got inspired by underground Western comics of the '60s and the original Lupin III was not a thief and a cheerful anti-hero. Lupin was originally a real godfather, a mafia boss, and despite he was mostly accompanied by Jigen and Goemon (who weren't really characterized back then) he had all underdogs, picciottos and so on under his rule. He did steal, but also he killed innocents, he raped women (includin Fujiko) and did several other hideous things.

Evil protagonists don't last long. They either get overhauled or they die like Light Yagami.

For this Lupin had to be tamed. Lupin killed less and less and more and more only with a reason and was more and more gentle with the innocents, including his main foe. And lastly he just virtually stopped to kill.

He's not the only one, many protagonists were born as unremedable villain and then they have been turned into antiheroes... or even heroes. Villanous protagonists never last long.

Shadow is beloved mostly because of his original personality. I noticed in most fan work, he is characterized the way he was in Sonic Adventure 2/Heroes/06 or Prime. Sometimes like in Sonic X and Shadow 05. Rarely like modern Shadow.

Back to Shadow

"What did you do?"

"What I had to!"

Those lines may be related to anything and everything. They might be related to Shadow's attempt to destroy the world like in SA2.

"I had to keep my promise!"

"What I had to do" suggest me something Shadow did not because he wanted to but for an external obiective. It might be world safety, keeping a promise, preventing the Sun going red giant, anything. Maybe even destroying Metal Sonic (if he appears like some rumor suggest) after Sonic convinced him to join the good side. Shadow has a long story dealing with living weapons.

Shadow stealing Stone's bike

Simply impossible. I already said Shadow's size is comparable to the size of a five years old child, about 1m tall. Stone is a 1,78m tall adult.

How Shadow would look on Stone's bike. It would be good material for the memes. And even if he would be able to ride an adult designed bike, he would be unable to do the Akira thing.

[rosary-pearls]

Wyll NSFW Thoughts/Headcanons Part 2

These are a little more specific than the previous ones so hopefully you all enjoy these as well

These are mostly top/dom focused & gender neutral (18+ Obvi)

•Wyll is a dancer and a fighter so he has excellent control over his body. The roll of his hips are precise & intentional; always seeking to draw out the most pleasure for both of you. Only gets sloppy when he's about to come or has been overstimulated •Wyll's default is to be gentle & doting with you, but he'll handle you however you like to be handled. You wish to be treated gently? His touch will feel akin to a rose petal. You wish for something rougher? He’ll pin you down, spank, and maybe even choke you as much as you'd like. He just wants you to feel good & enjoy your time together 

•Concerning rough sex, he has limits for what he's willing to do. He wouldn't be comfortable slapping you in the face, making you bleed, using tools for impact play, or anything overly humiliating. There is also a limit to how much strength he's willing to use if you want to be handled roughly - some bruises and hickies are fine, enticing even. But your body looking freshly beaten? A huge turnoff for him

•I can't imagine Wyll enjoying being on the receiving end of rough sex, I think he wants to feel loved. Be nice to him!!

•Definitely into wax/candle play. He loves seeing you tense as you anxiously wait for the hot wax to hit your skin. He’s particular about the wax color, he’ll choose something that compliments your skin tone so you look like a piece of art. He’d blindfold you for the full experience, and when he's ready to move on he'd remove the blindfold and drip one last time, telling you to watch how beautifully the wax melts and runs along the contours of your body. Yum 

•I know this is said all the time but PLEASE grab him by horns. Especially when he's going down on you - he loves it when you show him exactly what you want. When you're kissing, or being playful give them a peck, trace the grooves with your fingers. Remind Wyll they're just as loved as the rest of him, poor guy

•Praise this man - tell him he's making you feel good, tell him he's beautiful & sexy (he still gets self-conscious about his newfound fiend body), tell him you love and need him. During and not during sex

•Wyll can be a tease - because of his heroic & kindhearted nature I think ppl forget Wyll is a lil shit & instigator at times (complimentary)

•He’s never mean-spirited when he teases you, but he’ll get the faintest quirk of the lip, the slightest self-satisfied glaze in his eyes that tells you how amused he is. He never allows his teasing or denial to get to the point where it's humiliating for you - his purpose in doing these things is to make the reward all the sweeter, not an act of subjugation

•WYLL READS SMUT!!!!! And man does this play out in some fun ways. He talks about it in past tense sure, but once he gets to live the soft life again I bet he'd pick it back up. Especially since you, who is reading this, most likely read smut too

•100% down to read them together. He's good at reading aloud, his voice is smooth & he doesn't tend to make mistakes or fumble lines. It becomes a pleasant pastime in the evening, with you resting your head on his lap as he reads for the two of you

•If you read a particularly spicy scene he'd suggest you try & reenact it. aka this man is into roleplay (bard tavs rejoice)

•Yes he loves his rose petals on the bed and sensual baths, but he also enjoys being silly and goofy in bed. He attempts to do a voice for the part he’s playing & it sounds utterly ridiculous & you both break out into laughter and giggling while you're trying to kiss. He's got such a beautiful grin how could you not melt? The silliness just brings you closer & makes the sex all the more special 

•Cockwarming? Cockwarming. Loves just staying inside you to feel close while holding you from behind. Might ask you to read from one of your dirty books out loud while he fondles you, letting you feel his cock gradually harden and lengthen in you. Also likes doing it after he’s come inside you 

•More naughty reading stuff because I love this concept for him. He'd have you read your book aloud while he gently fucks you & wouldn’t let you come until you finish x amount of pages. If you stop, he stops - might even pull out. If you're incoherent, he goes excruciatingly slow until you can enunciate properly

Let me know what you think! Or if any of them should be a fic of their own

[thatboreddrake]

Okay, bare with me on this one, because I am operating on a grand total of like, two lines of dialogue and a dream: a dream of finally getting a solid-ish number on the Elden Ring Timeline!

So, the first line of dialogue, which Ranni delivers during the cutscene for the Age of Stars ending:

Now cometh the age of the stars. A thousand year voyage under the wisdom of the Moon (emphasis added)

Fine, vague, poetic.

The second line, delivered by Miquella during the fight with Promised Consort Radahn if the player is hit by the grab attack:

"I promise you, a thousand-year voyage guided by compassion."

Now, once is vague, but twice just might mean something. Could it be metaphorical for "this is gonna be a long time"? PROBABLY BUT WHO CARES!

This brings me to my first main point: we have an official time-stamp on how often ages and gods cycle in the Lands Between, presumably. This means that this is a semi-regular phenomenon which could be looked for upon its arrival. Or perhaps, this time of transition is marked by visitors:

It is said that when Oracle Envoys appear playing their pipes, they do so to herald the arrival of a new god, or age.

Anyway, this allows me to slap together a somewhat coherent timeline of events for Elden Ring (effing finally):

The age we will start with is the Age of Dragons, led by Placidusax as Elden Lord (Remembrance of the Dragonlord) with Uhl, the Fire Giant, as the vessel of the Fell God and centered on the power of the Crucible (blatant speculation but its headcanon at this point). In the last few hundred years of the Age of the Crucible, the Hornsent begin to focus their efforts on producing a viable Empyrean to ascend to godhood for the next age. Side note, but this would also be when the denizens of the Eternal Cities were working on their project with the Lord of Night.

Anyway, through one way or another, Marika is chosen by the Fingers to serve as the Greater Will's vessel in the Lands Between after her village is butchered by the Potentates. This is also approximately when a proto-Radagon enters the scene through Empyrean mitosis (Marika severed her desire for order after the death of her family as per the Minor Erdtree incantation). For a time, Marika plays along with the Hornsent, if only to establish her base of power.

Her first stop is at the Eternal Cities, where she attempts to convince the Nox to join with her in the upcoming war against the Fire Giants. The Nox reject her upcoming divinity in favor of their Lord of Night, killing proto-Radagon with the Fingerslayer Blade as a symbol of their rejection. The Greater Will does not stand for this insolence, and sends the Malformed Star Astel to devour their sky and cast them beneath the earth.

Marika then allies with the berserker warlord Hoarah Loux and begins her assault on the Fire Giants of the Mountaintops. After all, their flame would be the one thing that could threaten the Erdtree during her reign. She manages to slay Uhl in battle, and shunts proto-Radagon's soul into his body, thus birthing Radagon as a proper Lord. However, at this point, Marika is diverted from her mission by the First War of the Dragons.

Emboldened by the defeat of Placidusax's god, Bayle the Dread leads his brood of drakes in a direct assault on Farum Azula. To counteract this threat, Placidusax sends the Ancient Dragon Florissax to instruct their erstwhile human allies in the practice of Dragon Communion. Among these, the greatest knight and leader of their order was Theodorix, a troll freed from the Fire Giants during Marika's initial assault. It is during this war that Marika and Radagon bear the kindling twins, Messmer and Melina.

Where Messmer fights on the front lines alongside Radagon and Godfrey, Melina instead takes up tutelage under Maliketh, Marika's Black Blade. After the war is over, and Placidusax has had three of his heads removed, he sees that the age of the dragons has come to a close and moves Farum Azula outside of time to await the return of his god.

Keeping their momentum, Marika and her forces carry on to complete their destruction of the Fire Giants, realize that the flame cannot be put out, and leave a nameless giant in charge of tending the forge. At this point, the time of ascension arrives, and Marika ascends to godhood using Radagon as her Lord catalyst. However, afraid of exposing Radagon's true nature to their followers, Marika instead takes Godfrey as the First Elden Lord, ushering in the Age of Plenty (Blessed Dew Talisman).

With her seat of power established, Marika dispatches her champions to complete their conquest of the Lands Between. Godfrey goes south to Limgrave to do battle with the Storm Lord and the inhabitants of the Weeping Peninsula. Radagon also goes south, but stops in the swamps of Liurnia to challenge the kingdom of sorcerers, who have been united under the rule of one calling herself the Full Moon Empyrean. Messmer, meanwhile, travels back to Belurat to exact vengeance against the Hornsent for their treatment of the shamans. It was this last expedition that was closest to Queen Marika's heart, and thus were they accorded the greatest share of golden grace of any of the Erdtree's armies.

In the ensuing 700 years or so, things proceed as normal. Messmer slaughters the Divine Beasts and burns the country to ashes. Godfrey's conquest of Limgrave nears its conclusion and he sets his eyes towards the Caelid Wilds. Radagon has fought two wars in Liurnia, finally forging an alliance with the House of Caria through his marriage to Rennala. Beneath all this, an old god conspires to put its own Empyrean on the throne.

Per Prince of Death canon (it is canon to me!), Melina is selected as an Empyrean vessel by the Deathbird who pushes her towards rebellion by exposing the injustices perpetrated under Marika's rule. Melina's breaking point is when Marika abandons her own children, the twin Omens Mohg and Morgott, for the sake of keeping up appearances (or so it seems). Taking the moniker of the Gloam-Eyed Queen, Melina marches to Leyndell to cast Marika down from her throne and slay the Elden Beast with black fire.

This rebellion is stopped by Maliketh's timely intervention. He bests his former pupil in combat and, under Marika's orders, seals the Destined Death which gives her flame its deadly bite. It is at this time that the Land of Shadow becomes Shadowed, as Marika fears how Messmer may respond when he discovers that his sister has "died" in a rebellion against their mother. However, Marika's heart is not of stone. She sees anew that which had driven her daughter to such desperate measures, and vows to reexamine the fundamental tenets of the Golden Order.

Remembering what happened to the last civilization to deny the Greater Will, however, Marika banishes Godfrey and his Tarnished warriors from the Lands Between. Should another star come to punish the land, she would not have her beloved caught in the blast zone. Thus ends the Age of Plenty; Marika plucks the very concept of true death from the Elden Ring and the blessings of the Erdtree slowly begin to dry up.

Here, the Ancient Dragon Gransseax sees an opportunity to restore the Ancient Dragons to primacy in the Lands Between and assaults the very walls of Leyndell itself. However, he did not account for the tenacity of humankind, nor the power of Godfrey's son, Godwyn. Godwyn leads Marika's order to victory in this Second War of the Dragons, forging an alliance with the Ancient Dragon Fortissax.

Seeking to keep Marika loyal, the Greater Will recalls Radagon to serve as Elden Lord in Leyndell, threatening his family with true death at the hand of the Black Blade should he refuse. Together, Marika and Radagon usher a new thousand years of history, an Age of Order.

Towards the final quarter of this new age (fully guestimating here), Marika sees that she is running out of time to find a solution to the cycling of ages and gods. Conspiring with her step-daughter Ranni, she plots to use a fragment of Destined Death to sever both herself and Radagon from the Greater Will's control, if only to free them both from the curse of immortality. However, plagued by internal conflict and mistrust, Ranni takes this opportunity to free herself from the machinations of Manus Celes, a Two Fingers serving its own god. Marika is distraught as, rather than severing her own fate, she is instead left to deal with the aftermath of the death of her beloved son, Godwyn.

In a final act of desperation, seeking to end the cycle once and for all, Marika takes up her hammer and shatters the Elden Ring, that which represents order itself. Aghast at her actions, Radagon joins her inside the Erdtree, sealing the entrance using an aberrant sorcery to create a barrier of impenetrable thorns. He sought to repair the damage done to the Elden Ring, but erecting the barrier bled him nearly dry. Seeking to protect its last hope of maintaining control, the Elden Beast fuses Marika and Radagon into one and stuffs the shattered fragments of the Elden Ring into the gaping wound in their side. There, the fused, fractured deity would hang for hundreds of years, until the time for ascension came again, and the envoys arrived once more to herald the arrival of a new lord.

[nhasablogg]

If I'm to let it in, it might just stay forever

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Characters: Derek/Spencer

Summary: Derek and Spencer go to the tickle club.

Anonymous said: So in the For Love to Replace your Shame fic the last line basically says that after a couple weeks they walk back into the club hand in hand. I was wondering if you could write a small fic where Derek and Spencer are in the club together? I just wanna see Spencer actually be able to enjoy it :)) -M

Words: 1.4k

Read it on AO3.

Referenced fic here.

Spencer looked good under the flashing lights. Not necessarily as though he belonged, because he was visibly nervous, his grip on Derek’s hand tight enough to be uncomfortable, but he looked good because he seemed giddy. A spark in his eyes which Derek hadn’t really seen before, especially not in regards to this, something that still made him shut down before he realized he wasn’t being judged.

The Feather was jam-packed. A Saturday, which had been absolutely freezing and miserable, prompting desperate people to seek fun after dark, and boy did they sound like they were having fun. Now that Derek was here off the clock he felt much more relaxed, and so he was taking it all in differently. Not seeking, simply watching, though he was mostly watching Spencer. While Spencer was obviously still a bit on edge it wasn’t as bad as their first couple of visits. He wasn’t alone with his feelings anymore, his shoulders lighter. His eyes were everywhere, head going back and forth, his cheeks pinkening as the ticklish laughter surrounded them.

Derek leaned closer to him to be heard over the music. “We can stay as long as you want, which also means we can leave whenever, okay?”

Spencer nodded. “Okay.”

“I mean it, pretty boy. The minute you want to leave, we leave.”

Spencer squeezed his hand. “I hear you.”

“Good.” Derek squeezed back, wondering if the visit would include him tickling Spencer at all or if they would be saving it until later, behind the four walls of a bedroom. He’d just started doing it, tickling Spencer until he was a giggly mess, without it ending with Derek having to reassure him that he loved that this was something he wanted him to do. Not that he minded it, but he was glad it was becoming easier now. He quite enjoyed himself doing it.

They’d decided to come back to The Feather because Derek found it unfair that Spencer had had his eye on this club for ages before he’d been forced to visit it due to a case, but what Derek hadn’t told him was that he was equally as curious to return. Curious about it all, curious about what would catch Spencer’s eye, about how he would react. Spencer could probably feel his gaze on him, and while he might’ve felt self conscious about it he seemed entirely too preoccupied to say anything about it.

“Oh, look, I did that to you last night.” Derek didn’t mean for it to sound as any form of teasing - he genuinely felt a surge of excitement as he caught sight of a woman trying to twist out of the grip of another woman who was targeting her hips - but Spencer covered his face in embarrassment anyway. Maybe Derek wasn’t too mad about it.

“I think this might end me,” he said, peeking out when Derek nudged him.

Spencer didn’t know this, but Derek hadn’t been able to stop thinking of this, this moment, the things Spencer had told him, for the past few days. He’d imagined them entering. Imagined Spencer being grabbed left and right by unknown, eager hands. He’d imagined being jealous, but there had been something appealing about the sight, too. Sensual, almost. Of course that didn’t end up happening, because these people valued consent more than anything. And besides, Spencer didn’t want to come here to get tickled by others. He’d told him that countless times.

“I want to experience it normally,” he’d said. “Remove the case from it.”

And Derek, who had thought of the case nearly every single day since it had happened, had understood what he meant.

They hadn’t talked about what they expected out of this experience. Spencer had seemed too anxious and excited and shy all at the same time for Derek to want to ask. He couldn’t imagine he wanted strangers to touch him anyway, besides his protests, but if he did, in the midst of drunken giddiness to finally be able to be himself, non-judged, Derek needed to quickly decide how he felt about it, because who was he to deny Spencer this if he wanted it?

But who was he kidding. He didn’t like the idea of that at all.

“Quick question,” he said as they elbowed their way deeper into the room, aiming to take a lap before ordering drinks. “I know you said you don’t want to, but if someone grabs for you, am I supposed to protect you?”

“If someone- grabs for me?”

“You know. Pulls you into a tickle fight.”

“Oh. Well, I doubt anyone would.”

“Right, but if.”

“Sure, yeah, protect me. I don’t think I’d like that.”

“I don’t think I’d like that either.”

Spencer grinned, the last bit of anxiety falling off his face. “You’d be jealous.”

“I so wouldn’t.”

“Uh huh.”

Derek liked the fact that Spencer was smiling too much to get all in his feelings about this, and so he merely pulled him closer with the pretense of pulling him with him. He wasn’t stupid enough to think Spencer believed that that was his intention, but it made him feel better to pretend. They’d not reached the stage where honesty overpowered anything else yet. They still had walls, although they’d broken down several of them pre-relationship, if that was what they had. They’d not talked about it.

Derek was absolutely terrified to talk about it, truth be told.

“You think we can just- go in?” he asked as they stopped in front of a door labeled “bondage room”.

Spencer shook his head. “We shouldn’t either way. I wouldn’t want to have people see that.”

“That’s fair.” Memories of the case flashed before him. The idea of Spencer tied up, helpless. The thing he desired being used against him.

A hand on his wrist, squeezing it. “I’m okay, Derek.”

Derek knew he wasn’t, but he didn’t say anything. Instead he slipped his hand into Spencer’s, squeezing it back. “Let’s get something to drink, okay?”

Spencer nodded and they made their way through the crowd hand in hand, something Derek still wasn’t used to.

“Do you want a Tickle Me Drink or a Blushy Lee Bourbon?” Derek asked him as they sat down by the bar, reading off the menu on the wall. When he turned back to him Spencer was blushing, although he didn’t avert his gaze, and Derek suddenly felt as if he would explode.

“Not a fan of bourbon,” was all he said, glancing down up the drinks list. “How about a Pick Your Spot Pina Colada?”

“You got it, pretty boy.”

Derek wanted to tease him about picking a drink without a name which he would have a hard time saying out loud, but he didn’t. Instead he leaned over toward the bartender - not the bastard from the case - and ordered for them both. Derek picked the Cosmotickleton, grinning when Spencer squirmed beside him.

“So,” he said as the bartender went away to start on their drinks. “How are you feeling so far?”

Spencer shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

“I’m sure it’s a lot to take in after everything.” Derek leaned closer, a finger on Spencer’s arm. “How ‘bout you tell me what you’re liking?”

Spencer shivered, subtly, but Derek could feel it. “About the club?”

“Uh huh.”

“I like how accepting it is.” His answer came quickly and easily. “It’s loud and overstimulating, but- well, I’ve never felt safe in a club before, you know?”

Derek wanted to ask more. Wanted to hear him talk about the particular tickle scenarios that were happening all around him, but realized Spencer wasn’t here for that. Realized there was more to it than the exposure to the tickling itself. Maybe one day Derek would understand. He was happy to wait, happy to explore, happy to solve parts of the puzzle himself until that day.

They got their drinks, clinked their glasses together and watched the dance floor. Watched people kiss and grind and tickle and jump. And later, they danced - Spencer was a hip swinger much to Derek’s delight - and as they pressed close, and with Spencer’s permission, he pressed his fingers into his sides, making him swing in a different way. And even later, when they stumbled into Derek’s apartment because it was closer, Derek kissed him for several minutes before he went for his ribs, but only because Spencer had grown impatient.

[arecaceae175]

For Want Of Rest: Ch. 6

FAN JOY JULY!

Fic Summary: Five times Sky falls asleep somewhere that isn’t a bed plus one time they all do. Or, Sky struggles to manage his disabilities, then the chain has a conversation about accessibility and accommodations.

Fan Joy July! Each chapter is inspired a few amazing art pieces of Sleepy Sky <3. There are plenty more chapters and art inspirations to come :D

Chapter Summary: They eep. They also have a conversation about accommodations. 2.5k, fluff and hurt/comfort.

Happy July 35th everybody :/ Here it is :D. THIS IS HEADCANON GALOOOOORE hehehe. I gave everyone a Thing. Also featuring they/them wind so she/her legend isn’t lonely

Art pieces (Look at the arts before you read, it will enhance the experience hehe):

Facedown on the floor by @raycatzdraws Rest by @alis-art-stuff

I am so in love with both of these arts. Raycatzdraws is so so SO funny. Every position is hilarious and also SO in character. And alis-art-stuff's piece is a perfect fluffy companion. Looking at this art feels like a warm hug. Everyone is so comfy and happy!

Warnings: detailed descriptions of chronic pain, references to past ableism (with direct ableist quotes), subsequent internalized ableism. They discuss medical issues in this one but they don’t have many of the correct terms or understanding of health conditions, so obligatory please do not take this as medical advice :)

The last bokoblin crumbled to dust at his feet. Sky stumbled to the side, caught in the momentum of the swing of his sword.

"That's the last of them," Warriors said.

"Good fight. Any injuries?” Time asked, just as he did after every battle. No one spoke up, so he nodded in approval. “We should find somewhere nearby to rest.”

Very, very slowly, Sky lowered himself to the ground. His knees, hips, and back popped painfully, so stiff he could barely move them. Sky didn't bother holding back a grimace. Sky pushed his legs out behind him, laid his arms by his side, and collapsed face first in the grass. His entire body throbbed. Sky tried to breathe evenly through the wave of pain.

"Uh, Sky?"

"Here. Rest," Sky mumbled into the dirt. Grass got in his mouth. Removing it seemed like an insurmountable task. It wasn't like it tasted that bad, anyway.

A pause. "Anyone catch that?"

Sky groaned loudly as he turned his head to the side just enough to free his mouth. "Rest. Here." 

Hyrule frowned, glancing around from the top of the hill they were on. The grassy fields continued for miles. "Isn't this a little exposed?"

"Rest here."

Four shrugged. "We did just clear the monsters."

"See? Rest now." Sky wouldn't have been able to get up if he tried. Everything hurt and he was so tired he might cry.

"I'm so on it," Wind said. "I'm so with you." They dropped to their knees—Sky flinched, knowing how his knees would feel if he did that—then sat back on their heels. Wind's arms flopped backwards as they curled forward and shoved their face in the ground. Their forehead touched the ground, leaving their mouth free for complaining. Sky respected the commitment.

"We have been walking and fighting and walking and fighting and running all week. No more," Wind said.

Sky grunted his agreement. The heroes within his line of sigh all looked at him with a wince, eyebrows drawn together and eyes wide with concern. Sky belatedly realized his sound might have been more pitiful than he intended it to be.

"Yeah, that about does it." Legend put her last item away in her bag then flopped onto the grass next to Sky.

"You mind?" Legend asked. Sky made a noise he hoped was significantly less disturbing than before. It must have worked, because Legend laid down with her head on Sky's backside. Sky made a noise of surprise.

"What?" Legend said. "It's soft."

Any reply Sky would have made was cut off by Warriors dramatic sigh as he collapsed on the ground. His legs were bent underneath his body and he haphazardly threw his arms over his face, resulting in his scarf billowing over his head and covering his face completely.

"This is fine," Warriors said, muffled by the scarf.

Twilight laid down next to him and collected the end of Warriors' scarf to use as a pillow. Wild draped himself over Twilight's legs and dragged Hyrule down with him. Hyrule yelped in surprise but relented quickly enough. He stuck one foot into Legend's side as he got comfortable. Four laid on the grass in the most awkward position physically possible. Sky's joints throbbed in pain just looking at it. Sky couldn't see Time from his angle, but going by the loud thump, Time was now also on the ground.

Sky hummed happily and put his face back in the dirt. There was a nice little indentation right where his nose was, so he wasn't even suffocating. How convenient, he thought.

Sky's muscles were still tense from the battle adrenaline. As hard as he tried, he couldn't quite drift off to sleep. His body ached, every joint and every muscle throbbing in time with his heart. The longer he laid on his stomach, the more the fire-like pain in his back spread. He knew he would regret laying like this later, but he really, really didn’t want to move. 

"This is boring," Wind said.

The heroes burst into laughter. Sky chuckled quietly, with as much energy as he could muster.

“Let’s find shapes in the clouds!” Wild suggested. 

“Ooh! Yes! Everyone play!” Wind cheered. 

Sky sighed and tried to will his body to relax. The level of effort he was putting would have been comical—he couldn’t force himself to relax, that defeated the purpose—if he wasn’t so utterly worn down. Everything hurt and he really, really wanted to be asleep. Sharp pressure stung behind his eyes. Sky flopped an arm over them and breathed deeply, desperately trying not to cry. 

The voices of the other heroes sounded like they were underwater. Or, maybe Sky was underwater and they were above. That made more sense, he thought. He certainly felt like he was underwater, drowning as he was pulled down by invisible forces. And how could he fight an enemy he couldn’t see?

A hand touched his boot. Sky flinched, eyes flying open with a gasp. Legend was sitting up beside him; Sky hadn’t noticed the change in pressure when she moved. Legend flashed him an apologetic smile. 

“The sailor wants you to look at the clouds,” Legend said. “You’ve got about ten seconds before they drag you over there themself. Just a warning.”

“Over where?” Sky asked. His neck ached from the strain of looking sideways at Legend. 

In response, Legend tilted her head over her shoulders. The other heroes were gathered in a circle, laying on their backs with their heads together. Legend carefully pushed herself to her feet and stretched her arms above her head. Beneath her braces, her joints popped. She shook them out then went to the circle. 

Instead of taking the closest open spot, she deliberately stepped on Warriors’ chest. Her step was light enough that it wouldn’t hurt, and more than enough for Warriors to yelp and swat her away. Legend laughed as she let herself be tackled onto the ground. 

Just as Legend predicted, it was no more than ten seconds before Wind was hopping up from the circle and bounding over to Sky. They knelt next to Sky’s head with a wide smile. “Sky, come look at clouds with us!” 

Sky forced a smile even as tears gathered in his eyes. As soon as they started, he couldn’t stop. Tears flowed down his face as Sky choked on a sob, burying his face in his arms in shame. 

“Sky?” Wind’s voice was panicked. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” 

Sky sniffled and shook his head, ignoring the pinpricks of pain throughout his neck and shoulders. “No, I— I’m— it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“What’s wrong?” Wind asked again. 

“I don- I don’t know,” Sky cried. “I’m just…”

Wind’s hand landed on his back and they started rubbing comforting circles. Another sob forced its way out of Sky’s chest. 

“You should turn over,” Twilight said. Sky sniffed and looked up in surprise. Twilight was right next to him. They all were, Sky realized; the others had moved their circle over to Sky and were all trying very hard not to stare at him in concern. 

“Your back always hurts when you lay like that,” Twilight continued. 

A fresh wave of emotion forced more tears out of Sky’s eyes. “You— how?”

Twilight smiled sadly at him. “I noticed. You never said anything about it, though, so…” Twilight shrugged. 

“Here,” Wind said, voice determined. “Can I help?” 

Sky nodded and wiped his nose miserably. Wind put one hand beneath his shoulder and the other beneath his hip.

“Ready? Set, go!” 

With Wind’s added momentum, Sky turned over on the first try with minimal difficulty. As soon as he landed on his back, the pain intensified and the sound of blood rushing filled his ears. Sky’s breath hitched, then he forced himself to calm down and breathe through the pain as his joints released their tension. 

“Are you having regrets?” Legend asked in a teasing tone. Sky knew that was how she showed her concern, and the words warmed his heart. 

“Mmhmm,” Sky mumbled in reply. His voice wavered far more than he expected. 

The sharp pain receded, and Sky finally was able to take a full breath. He let his arms flop on the grass above his head. Sky let himself breathe and relax. 

“Sky?” Twilight asked, voice uncharacteristically hesitant. 

Sky’s eyes felt like sandpaper under his eyelids as he dragged them open. 

“We wanted to talk to you about… this,” Twilight continued. 

Sky’s face burned with shame. His ears pinned themselves against his head. He glanced at the other heroes, all clearly staring, then shoved his eyes closed again. 

This was it. They were going to tell him he was being too slow and he needed to be better. He needed to try harder . Somewhere in the logical part of his mind, Sky knew he was being unfair to them, but a lifetime of being told to just suck it up and do better and being far, far too slow clouded his judgment.

“I’m sorry. I can do better,” Sky said. 

“What?” Legend interjected harshly. “What are you on about?”

Sky sniffled and wiped his eyes to keep his tears at bay. He drew in a shaky breath before he continued. “I know I’ve been slow lately, but I’ll do better. We don’t have to talk about it. I’m sorry.”

“No, Sky, that’s not what’s happening here,” Warriors said quickly. “We want to help.”

Sky’s thoughts stuttered to a halt. “You… what do you mean?”

“Back in your era, after you passed out, we talked to Zelda about it. We weren’t hiding this from you, but we haven’t had a chance to bring it up since.”

“...Oh. Um…”

Wind’s hand slipped into his and squeezed. Sky squeezed back, at a loss for words. 

“That was scary,” Wind said quietly. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Sky’s stomach flipped. “I’m sorry.”

Wind squeezed his hand again. “It’s not your fault! The only thing you should be sorry about is not telling us that could happen! How were we supposed to know you’d be okay?”

“Sailor,” Warriors admonished quietly. “Sky, there’s nothing wrong with needing extra help. We all do, sometimes. I… I may not have said it out loud before, but I have battlesickness. You know that, and I know any of you will help me calm down when I can’t remember where I am. Do you blame me for that?”

“Of course not!” Sky said. 

“You’ve helped me apply my scar gel before! And you always make tea when me or Twilight have cramps,” Wild said. 

“I have a blind side. I can’t see attacks,” Time said.

“My shoulder won’t grow right after a monster flung me around. I can’t move it all the way and it hurts, sometimes,” Wind said. 

“This isn’t like that,” Sky interrupted, clenching his free hand in frustration. “This isn’t from my adventure. It comes and goes with how bad it is, but I’ve always been this way.”

“You know my joints are terrible. That’s something you and I have in common,” Legend added. “The braces help, but I’m not always up for moving. You’ve never blamed me for that.”

“I’ve had migraines all my life,” Four said. “More after my adventures, just like you.”

“I have food allergies,” Hyrule said. “Those aren’t my fault and they’ve been here forever.”

“It… it doesn’t get better. I have to deal with this every day.” Sky’s voice had a hint of a whine to it, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. “Everything hurts all the time. I’m so tired. I can’t even stand up without my body collapsing. It’s— it’s really, really hard,” Sky finished in a small voice. 

Wind squeezed his hand. The group was silent for a moment, only the sounds of crickets jumping through the grass. 

“Zelda told us some things she and Groose do to help,” Warriors said. “I’d like to hear what you do day to day to manage it, if you’re comfortable sharing.”

Sky blinked up at the clouds through teary eyes. “I don’t… I don’t know.”

“I always watch food being prepared, that helps my anxiety. I don’t like my face or neck being touched. When I’m panicking, breathing exercises and asking me to describe my surroundings are what help,” Warriors offered. 

After a beat, enough time for Sky to speak up if he wanted, Legend continued. “I stretch every morning and night. I have pain relief tea if I need it. Movement helps the inflammation stay down, but too much running or jumping makes things worse.”

“Oh,” Sky realized. “That’s— my knees are the same. If they stay straight or bent for too long they get hard to move.”

“There, see? Stuff like that,” Warriors encouraged. “What else do you know?”

“Um. When I passed out, that was from standing too quickly. Well, the portal makes everything feel worse, and I don’t usually fully pass out. When I sit up or stand up I have to move really slow or I feel bad for a while. I lean or sit as often as I can. I sleep as much as I can, but I’m still tired all the time, no matter how much I rest. Is that— is that okay?”

“You’re doing great, Sky. That’s exactly what we mean,” Twilight said. 

“Zelda mentioned the exhaustion too,” Warriors said. “She said stamina fruit helps…”

The Links stayed on the hill, resting and talking for the rest of the day. Time tired of talking quickly, but he listened with a smile on his face. Wind, Wild, and Hyrule pointed out exciting clouds during lapses in the conversation. The other heroes offered things about themselves they had learned and things that helped them, too, so Sky wasn’t the only one. They made sure he didn’t feel like a burden, and they made sure he felt loved. 

For once, Sky was not the first to fall asleep. Time and Wild hadn’t responded in a while, and Legend hadn’t opened her eyes for her last three comments. Sky could feel the fatigue tugging on his eyelids as he struggled to keep up with the conversation. After his third yawn in as many sentences, Warriors reached over Wind and ruffled Sky’s hair. 

“Get some sleep,” Warriors said with a fond chuckle. “I’ll wake everyone up in time to make camp before dusk.”

“Okay,” Sky said around another yawn. He sighed contentedly and drifted off more easily than he had in weeks. He felt light, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. The problems with his body may not be able to be solved, but Sky was confident they could be managed, especially with his family by his side. 

[barcaluvv]

Lamine yamal x reader You and Yamal, the bond of friendship, which no one could ever separate, whether together or not at all, but as they say, a man can only kill his happiness because of feelings, but this time they both separated their wires that held many years of friendship.

One night, everything snapped and huge feelings came out of you both.

You were talking, you were sitting on the very bench, talking about irrelevant things, because you were both thinking the same thing, and if only you knew that, everything would be different. Yamal was teasing you with the book he was holding tight in his slender arms,grabbing your pens away as you were just out of class, second shift, laughing loudly and not caring about what others thought but yet not a single soul was seen. You felt like the while city was sleeping, as your paths will slowly diverge any moment from now. When you calmed down a bit Lamine said something condescending, his voice shaking not from cold but from fear "Can I tell you something?but dont be mad okay?" He was admiring your hair slowly but precisely fluttering in the wind, he looked at every line that your smile leaves, all that persuaded him to say what he was going to say now. "Listen y/n" he grabbed you by your palms, creasing your hair, tucking every strain of hair behind your ear, slowly and softly. He clings to you, his voice barely above a whisper "I feel so guilty sometimes... like I'm such a burden on you. I want to be perfect for you." he sniffles, looking down at the leaves falling from the branch.

"What are you trying to say?" U get worried. Tears form in his eyes as he continues "I'm scared too, ... scared of losing you. You mean everything to me." he takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself "I just want to make you proud and happy, but i cant continue like this, i wake up everyday thinking about how my emotions tremble against your will, not being enough to express them to you, i love you y/n, u have every right to be mad at me and leave, and end our conversation forever but you cant run from the feeling of guilt" he sobs uncontrollably, burying his face in the cold current wind, that was trying to remove a tear from his cheeks ... I need you so much. he clings to you tightly, his entire body shaking from the intensity of his emotions "I don't want to lose you."

"Now maybe i did threw 7 years of friendship away in 5 minutes of speech but, ive waited for these few minutes my entire life now I'd have to break our contact." Said lamine with tear drops falling off his eyes, down to his sweatshirt. This all happened too fast, you're literally out of words but this sentence felt powerful. "Maybe we are soulmates after all".

Lamine wipes off his tears, trying to act tough not understanding your words. "What? What do you mean?".

Lamine, u lean closer feeling his heartbeat acrobat as u get to him.

"The truth is, ive been meaning to tell you that too, but also many thing more such as that my family is moving back to Portugal, this is my last goodbye my love". He sits in shock, feeling his empty-handed heart break in pieces, watching it flow like ashes.

He stands up, kisses your forehead soflty, not leaving any hope after it.

He pulls you tightly,holding you for seconds, treating them like years not wasting any of them, atleast that's not wasted besides the love potential we had.

He pulls away, giving you a bracelet, which says "Why not this universe"

that was written on the black buttons, like he was prepared for this. "Let this be a remember, it might be temporary but my love for you wasn't." He starts walking away, the streets carried him off, and poof suddenly our love too. Two months later, you found out he burned himself down. You were devastated, it took you so many months to put yourself together after this. 6 months passed, you heard a loud knocking on your door, it's better if you didn't open them, just like that I found out that the police was holding a paper, that was apparently held by Yamal when he died. The letter said "when you quietly told me that I won't be able to do without you. X your Lamine." That was supposed to be shifted the same night to Portugal. With a bracelet next to it.