#how did you get that glowing effect HELLO???

[syruubi]

A standalone of the last panel from the latest comic because I spent way too long on it o<-<

[chuluoyi]

✎ a birthday to remember

- gojo satoru x reader

what is the so-called grand surprise does your husband prepare for your birthday?

genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—massive fluff, comfort, pregnant!reader, (cough) pregnant sex

note: hi peeps it's been ages since i last wrote gojo :') and love entries on that matter *sobs* but here it is... my birthday has passed too but here's to any of you whose birthday is near!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

“Sensei— happy birthday!”

This year, your birthday happened to fall on a workday.

If it were up to you, you would have taken the day off. However, Satoru had been assigned to Osaka and wouldn’t be returning until weekend, so taking leave and staying at home would most likely make you feel lonely.

Not only that, with you entering the fifth month of pregnancy, you figured it was better to stay active. And by the end of the day—you didn’t regret coming in at all. The students were all so sweet, they even chimed in to get you a pretty maternity dress to wear. You couldn’t wait to tell Satoru about them tonight.

You skipped happily toward the parking lot, but right when you turned the corner, suddenly—

“Wifeeeey!”

“Oh my god!”

You let out a loud gasp and took a step back, taking in the view. A sea of colorful balloons, with a man in suit standing right in the middle of it—

Your husband. In flesh. You blinked once, twice— thrice.

“Satoru...?”

He poked his head out of the string of balloons, a beaming, million-dollar grin lit up his face at the sight of your shocked expression. “Wifeeey! Happy birthdaaaaay!”

Before you could even process his sudden appearance, he had you in a chokehold, engulfing you in a bear hug and nuzzling his face against yours with childlike enthusiasm, the faint scent of his cologne filling your senses.

“What are you doing here?!” you half-shrieked, the surprise spilling from your voice.

He pulled back, frowning dramatically. “Ehhh? You don’t want me to be back?”

“Yes—”

His eyes widened as if you’d just committed the gravest betrayal. “You big meanie!”

“No,” you quickly retracted, trying to hold back your own smile at how comically dejected he was. “I mean… aren’t you supposed to be back on Sunday?”

“Heh heh, nope! I lied~” Satoru chirped, his grin returning in full force. “It’s my wifey’s birthday—how could I not come back for you?”

In that moment, your heart fluttered. He was probably saying it for no reason, but the fact that he really did fly back from Osaka just to meet you for your birthday meant a lot to you.

His big, warm hand then gently caressed your visible baby bump, his grin widening when he got a kick. “Ah, right… Hello to you too, baby! Did I startle you too? Sorry~”

You rolled your eyes, retorting, “He is terrified.”

Satoru leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper directed at your belly. “Don’t worry, baby. Papa’s here now, and he’s got balloons. That makes everything better, right?”

“...how long have you been standing here with these balloons?”

“Hmmm, not long. About an hour, maybe?”

“You shithead—why didn’t you just come inside?”

Satoru’s gasp of mock offense made you laugh despite yourself. “And ruin the surprise? My wifey deserves the full dramatic effect!”

Being Gojo Satoru’s wife certainly came with its fair share of patience-testing episodes, and sometimes you wanted to return him to Yaga for additional lessons of discipline.

But it was candid, over-the-top acts like this that reminded you just how lucky you were to have him.

Satoru brought you to a high-end restaurant for your birthday dinner before the two of you finally returned home.

And the moment you opened the door, you were greeted by countless balloons floating on the ceiling and the ground, the fairy lights illuminating the room in a cozy glow.

You were taken aback, mesmerized by the sight. “When did you even have the time to decorate the house?”

He grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “I have many little helpers—”

“Don't tell me it's Ichiji and Nanami? Satoru, you—!”

“I promised Nanami I wouldn’t make him blow up balloons! Though I might have heard him grumble something about being above this…”

"You're unbelievable..." You let out a resigned sigh, yet still smiling as you stepped further into the living room, now bathed in the soft, golden glow.

Satoru observed you with a quiet smile. His pretty wife, and the small life within you. He adored you the most out of everyone else in this twisted world.

Click! Click!

"Huh?" You turned to him when you heard the distinct sound of a camera shutter.

Satoru was holding his phone, an amused glint in his eyes. “Just capturing the moment, you know. You, the lights, and baby. It's perfect.”

You giggled. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

He shrugged, that signature grin returning. “What can I say? You’re beautiful.”

Later, you'd find out that one of the photos would be his lock screen from now on. It would be the first thing he saw every time he unlocked his phone.

Satoru brought out the box he had prepared, handing it to you with a sly grin. “Look, sweets, before we go to bed, I have one more gift for you—and you have to wear it now.”

You arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued, as you took the box from his hands. The moment you opened it and pulled out the contents, you froze.

“—?! Satoru!”

A scarlet lingerie set. The bra features intricate lace trim along the edges, and the matching panties are equally bold, with a sheer lace overlay. Your cheeks flushed as you glanced at Satoru, who was watching you with an winning grin, clearly pleased with his choice.

“What?” he challenged. “They'll suit you, c'mon.”

“You're absolutely shameless.”

“But you love me anyway~”

You let out a defeated sigh, glancing up at him, already realizing there was no way out of this now.

“You’re lucky I’ve hit my head somewhere and married you.”

. . .

He was right. It fit you perfectly.

The moment you got out of the bathroom, Satoru could feel himself getting hard already. You looked like a vision, the deep red seemed to highlight your every curve, turning you into an effortless seductress.

And not only that, you were adorable too— fiddling with your fingers and touching your rounded belly, barely hiding how self-conscious you were.

"Don't just stare at me..." you mumbled, glaring at him.

He reached out, gently brushing his fingers against your cheek, his touch tender despite the fire in his eyes. “You’re making it hard to look away, you know.”

His hands then trailed down, skimming the sides of your body, each touch lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch. It was almost as if he was unraveling you, piece by piece, and you weren’t sure whether to pull away or pull him closer.

And wait... was it just you or were the space between your legs indeed getting hotter and wetter?

As if reading your mind, suddenly two of his fingers touched your barely clad pussy, and you gasped. That's right— there is indeed a hole in this freaking lingerie!

"Are... we...?" you swallowed, your gaze meeting his.

"Can I?" he asked back, voice husky. His crystal clear eyes burning with lust as he assessed you— from your eyes, lips, and then the inviting sight of your cleavage.

Did you want this?

Of course you were. Your birthday was still far from over, and you missed him too.

In response, you pushed his already hovering fingers inside you, making you hold your breath. From that point on, Satoru knew what you wanted.

Without another word, he rubbed soft circles around your clit, and you let out an unabashed moan at the contact, clinging to his shoulders for support. "Ahh..."

He teased you for a while, before slowly entering his fingers into your throbbing folds, and you were close to collapsing if it weren't for his secure hold over you.

"You're so, so damn naughty..." he whispered lowly in your ear. It was taking everything he had not to lose it right then and there. He wanted you to be as comfortable as possible, but the sight of your writhing face and that baby bump was damn distracting and ignited the beast inside him.

He made you pregnant already, but there was just this primal desire— wanting to mark you more...

His fingers slowly pumped in and out of you, dragging them deep but just not deep enough—

"Please..." you scratched his back unwittingly, frustrated at his shirt that got in the way. "I-I... want... you..."

How sweet. Satoru relished in your titillating breaths and chuckled, vigorously continuing his dirty ministrations.

"Say it louder," he growled in your ears. "Can't hear you."

The bastard. You yanked his hair and made him catch your teary gaze. "I... want you..."

Sinful desire flared to life at your words. "Your wish is my command, missus."

Satoru suddenly pulled out his fingers—ignoring the whine you accidentally let out for being empty all of a sudden—and admired the sheen, sticky whiteness on them.

"I barely did anything and you're this wet already," he snorted, tasting it. "They're right about the pregnancy hormones."

He placed his hand on your waist, pressing a kiss on the firm skin of your belly, before undoing his belt and trousers and pulling out his hardened member.

The sight made you actually gulp, especially when he pumped it. He pulled you to his lap and guided his pride to your sopping entrance. The moment he inserted himself, he let out a groan of relief, while you arched your back and hissed, "Ngh!"

Satoru captured your lips, his hand pressing against your aching spine. He pulled you closer, urging you to take him completely.

"Ahh— ugh... mrgh!" you sighed against his neck as soon as you did, trying to even your breath. This was something you had done so many times before, but why was this time felt like an awakening of some sorts?

"Most beautiful," he breathed in your ear wickedly. "Don't worry, leave everything to me."

He rocked his hips against yours, one hand on your back and the other gripping your thigh. With each salacious thrust, you mewled and he panted, keeping you steady all the while.

He could feel your baby bump rubbing against as his toned abs, going along with the rhythm. Satoru grinned proudly, noticing how much it had grown over the past few months. The baby must be healthy in there, huh?

The relief somehow spurred him into pick up his pace, thrusting you more deeply than before. You almost squealed.

"You know what?" he grunted, mind hazed. He didn't really realize what he was saying to you, to be honest. "You're the prettiest when you're like this— round and full, with my kid."

You only caught the lewdness in his words, but you weren't able to ponder about it as he suddenly buried his face into your supple breasts.

"Look at them, getting bigger too— these days..." He sucked on the sensitive skin and you gasped in pleasure, crying out afterwards when he fondled them with both hands.

Your senses were overly heightened and you knew you wouldn't last long. Satoru too knew he was nearing his orgasm as he tore your new bra and sucked on the mound, furthering your never-ending moans, causing your eyes to roll back as the blinding pleasure overtook you— pushing you to cum right then and there.

In the next second, he pushed you into him impossibly deeper, and his hot release gushed inside your womb. You writhed at the sudden fullness, before getting limp and collapsed into him, not even realizing that you had squirted all over his lap and dress shirt.

Your husband glanced at you, in disbelief himself at the messy scene, but utterly satisfied as his bright eyes twinkled. "Heh..."

You were awoken at three in the morning, and the first thing you noticed was that you were in Satoru's warm embrace.

His arms were wrapped around you securely, holding you close as if he were protecting you even in his sleep. You must have passed out afterwards, as all you recalled was the numbing exhaustion.

Yet you knew for certain that Satoru had cleaned you up, dressed you in your pajamas, and even placed a heat pad on your hips to soothe you.

(He remembered the one time you woke up with cramps right after a raunchy night before)

Your husband was a cheeky shit, but for you, he was willing to go extra miles. It was an overlooked fact sometimes due to how unserious he was, but each time he did and you were reminded of it, your heart always soared.

Looking up, you found his peaceful sleeping face, and not for the first time, you couldn’t help but marvel at how truly handsome he was. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you gently caressed his face.

"Hmm...?" he frowned adorably, and you almost giggled. But when he cracked his eyes open, you almost regretted it—oh yes, he is a light sleeper.

"Sweets...? Can't sleep...?" He turned to you, voice thick with sleepiness. "Anything wrong?"

"No, I'm just watching you." You smiled, poking his cheek. "Go back to sleep."

"Really? Nothing's amiss?" His hand gently slid to your belly, giving it a reassuring rub. "You have to tell me if anything’s not right..."

"Hush, I'm fine."

After making sure you were indeed fine, Satoru tightened his arms over you and pressed his eyes shut. You wrapped your arms around his back in response, feeling his steady warmth. Right in this moment, you were overwhelmed with this gentle, soft feeling— love, the kind he gave you so freely and candidly.

Your birthday had passed, but if there was one wish only he could fulfill, surely you could still ask him, right?

"Satoru..." you muttered, feeling the cool breeze of the air conditioner lulling you back to sleep. "Will you stay with me... forever?"

A smile curled on his lips at your question, his eyes still closed. "Silly girl, it's your bedtime, so why ask that?"

You thought he wouldn't answer it as he didn't say anything more. But right before you drift into deep sleep, he pressed a sweet kiss to the crown of your head, giving you his promise— one that felt truer than anything else he had said to you before.

"I will... so you must stay with me too, got it?"

[shotmrmiller]

I like to think that Simon has no game. He's large, he's unapproachable, his stare alone scares away the women. Which was totally fine, until one day, he saw you as Johnny's screensaver on his phone. He was entranced, mesmerized. He's seen more than enough beautiful women on the orange youtube (his hand being his only source of relief for years) but there was something different about you. Maybe it was the tender smile you had on your face, or maybe it was how you glowed with happiness.

Or your eyes. Your eyes twinkled with affection, you looked at the camera with love. Love. That's it.

He can't remember the last time someone aimed a fond look his way. And whenever he stares at your photo, it looks like you're lovingly gazing back at him— and it gets him fucking hard.

Johnny once left his phone behind, for whatever reason, and Simon waited a solid minute, (60) seconds, before he picked it up, and took out his own phone to take a picture of you.

Simon wanked himself raw that night, his thick cum splattering over his screen, over your face. His refractory period that night was nonexistent.

And when Johnny one day was on the phone with you? When Johnny said, "Simon's here too, hen. Say hello." The way your melodic voice said his name? His cock was achingly hard within seconds, and he shifted around uncomfortably, willing for it to disappear.

It didn't. Simon walked with a wide gait, legs stiff, straight to the nearest bathroom and took himself in his hand. He gripped his long, thick length tight, and when he closed his eyes, he squeezed even harder, almost painfully. His tip was an angry red, from how tight he held himself, and that's how snug he imagined your undoubtedly pretty pussy would be around him.

He had to clench his jaw— grit his teeth hard, to keep the pathetic whimpers from escaping. Simon leaked pre-cum like a juvenile, stringy like egg whites, all over his knuckles and he hadn't even started pumping yet.

When someone knocked on the door, the snarl he let out was feral, a "Fuck off" so nasty, no one disturbed him again until he came with his head tilted back, and the vision of you riding him behind his closed eyes.

And then in the comfort of his own quarters, he pulled up your picture again— a blurry, too zoomed-in photo of a photo, and rut into one of his pillows, again imagining it was you. He thought of you on your back, legs open invitingly and waiting for him to fill you. He imagined the delicious moans you'd breathe out in his ear, your nails digging into the expanse of his broad, scarred back. He imagined your walls fluttering around him, the tell-tale sign of your upcoming climax, and you'd squeeze him so bloody tight when you finally did come, he'd move to pull out because there's no way he's not finishing with you. But you, you'd wrap your legs around his waist, and cross your ankles— effectively keeping him inside of you.

He'd cum on the spot, because you were effectively giving him your permission to finish inside. You'd rhythmically clench your walls to milk him dry, to take all of his seed.

And when his warped, fucked mind imagined you whispering an 'I love you' on his lips, he actually came, and he whimpered.

Simon's hips stuttered as his cock twitched and spasmed, spurting thick globs of cum all over his pillow, his bed. His breath came in shaky pants, his heart slamming against his ribcage.

After he stopped shaking, and was able to move his limbs, he cleaned his mess up shamefully, the post-nut clarity hitting hard, and as he switched bedsheets, he saw his phone light up with a notification.

Bonnie just sent this picture. Doesn't she look cute?

It was you holding a cup of iced coffee, and what stood out to him the most was your brightly colored nails.

He touched himself to the thought of those manicured hands wrapped around his cock, as you took him in your mouth 10 minutes later.

this was my inspo for this simon

@pieckyghost i really only have porn on my mind :( pussy on my mind, tighter than a headband.

[moondirti]

Hello! So not a request but a Dahlia thought: when getting to the boys place she's a little anxious but then she sees the perfectly set up spare room they just happen to coincidently have set up perfectly. And it's so comfortable and peaceful after a shit day and a equally shittier couple of months that reader just kind of releases the damn of tears. Which you know just inforcess that they are doing the right thing by taking her. It's for her own good.

PART 1 • PART 2 • PART 3 tags: simon x f!reader x johnny. alluded abuse (not by ghoap). kidnapping (but is it really kidnapping anymore?) pregnancy.

Their home is nice.

You don't know what you expected. Nothing bad, certainly – one look at their car and you guessed they were comfortable – but whatever approximation you rendered in your head didn’t come close to hitting the mark. Perhaps it was the remnants of your misgivings, then, that convinced you they lived in some squalid house off the side of the freeway. No one is kind enough to offer free room and board without there being some sort of catch. 

But it's nice. Spacious. Secluded, though not to a concerning degree. You pass through a quaint town in order to get to it, and it's only another two miles out, tucked on the outskirts of a neighbouring forest. A two-story chalet, understated and painted dark to deliberately sink into its surroundings. If you had to guess, it was the pick of the one in the mask; the style suits him more than the other one, you think. Elevated inches off the ground. Weathered cedar exterior, softened by time, and a modest front porch with three Adirondack chairs positioned around a bonfire pit. 

“Did someone else live here with you?” You ask, tucking your thumb into your bag strap as you follow them to the front door. The shorter of them throws a look over his shoulder, brows furrowed in an endearing way. “I just ask because– well, you mentioned a spare bedroom, and there are three seats out here. So…” 

“Johnny’s mum stayed with us for a while after his father passed.” The masked one says, unlocking the entrance before pulling it open for you. Your heart twinges uncomfortably in your chest, and you give a sad smile to ‘Johnny’ on your way in.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” 

He appears astounded for a second, gaze flickering back and forth between you and his partner, before settling in place. “Ah, dinnae be. Wis a long time ago.” 

You’re pleased to find that the interior is a lot brighter. Where the outside boasted a dark green paint job, the inside glows in a smattering of honeyed wood and sage tones. All open-plan; you can see the dining table and kitchen from where you step into the living room, brown leather couches serving as the only divisors of the space. You allow your eyes to rove over the walls, the plush carpets underfoot, up and over to where the lofted second-story overlooks the bottom floor. Large picture windows allow ample light to flood in, yet it seems to have the particularly concerning effect of illuminating how… empty it all is. Because apart from a strew of personal belongings – boots by the foyer, a half-filled water bottle on the breakfast bar, a coat thrown over the back of an armchair – there’s nothing to indicate that they actually live here. 

For all you know, they could’ve rented the car and the house to lure you in. 

A pit opens up in your stomach. You pat your pocket for your phone, then turn to where they await your reaction. 

“I didn’t catch your names.” You ask, cringing internally at how straightforward you seem. You have to remind yourself that it’s better to be blunt, to scope this situation out before you’re in too deep. If it takes playing oblivious, then so be it. “I’m embarrassed I don’t know. You’re being so kind, after all.” 

“Johnny. John Mactavish, if ye wanna be proper.” The Scotsman beams, stepping forward to take your bag off your hands, that which you tentatively. The other one merely stays still, peering out on you from above his fabric mask. You shift from foot to foot, waiting. 

Eventually, he blinks. “Ghost.” 

The pit deepens. You breathe through the nausea climbing up your chest. That’s not a name, you’re tempted to say. Tempted to take your bag back over your shoulder and call a cab. But it’s so early in the morning that you know you’ll have a hard time reaching one. And even if you manage, where would you go? Certainly not home. 

The callous echo of your ex’s voice still bounces around in your skull. It’s just a matter of probability. Risk it here with these perfect strangers, who may or may not be ill-intentioned. Or risk it back home, with a man you know only means to do you harm. 

So, you give them your name. 

(Just the first. Though that isn’t without its precautions, either; later, when you finally tuck in, you’ll be sure to send your location and the name Mactavish off to a trusted friend.)

Johnny’s grin widens, something warm and molasses-thick radiating from the lines it carves into his cheeks. It’s so genuine, so welcoming and hospitable, that you have a hard time imagining him as a bad guy. And however Ghost unnerves you, he’s obviously decent enough to have bagged such a positive force of nature. Decent enough to have offered you a ride, and a place to stay when you were so desperately in need of one too. 

It all tallies up in your head, sand on a scale that dips in favour of one side. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, or the pregnancy hormones schooling your common sense into accepting the two, strong men who have demonstrated their willingness to provide – but you’re quickly softening up to the possibility that this is something good without exception. A reward for putting up with so much over the past few months. Some reality where life isn’t looking to beat you down.

If only for the night. 

You blindly follow as Johnny gives you a brief tour. Their bedroom is just to the left of the living space, and he tells you to knock if you need anything at all. 

“Ye'll be staying upstairs, hen. Unless th' stairs ur awfy much fur ye?” 

“No.” You shake your head, stricken by the utter graciousness. “Please. I’m so thankful you’re helping at all. Upstairs is just fine.” 

“Promise?” He demands, eyes wide like a quizzical pup. Ghost sidles up behind him, large hand clasping onto his shoulder, right where his shirt's collar ends to reveal the base of his neck. You stare at that touch, that point of skin-on-skin contact, for what must be too long before you can bring yourself to respond. 

“I- Yeah. I promise.” 

Your room isn't really a room at all, but a loft as large as half the first floor. Three walls and a missing fourth, polished wood railing and opaque curtains offering a degree of separation from the rest of the home. It's all you can do not to flop down on the bed immediately, stripping down to your panties and undershirt before relieving yourself in the attached bathroom.

Despite the modicum of hesitation still planted in your gut – which you doubt will go away until you’re absolutely sure you haven’t made yourself victim to a pair of crazy sexy serial killers – you unwind at record speed. Surprising how easy it is when you aren’t confronted with the burden of your real life. When everything is warm and provided for. When your bed is made with crisp clean sheets, a homemade quilt folded neatly on the edge, and the outside ambience isn’t singing drunks but quiet. 

And of course, once your guard comes down, so too does your strength. A ball of devastation snowballs in your chest. Your sternum burns and your nose grows hot. You hardly remember to clasp a hand around your mouth before you burst into an ugly sob, fat tears slipping off your lash line. Only when a stressed hiccup seizes your frame do you become thankful for your sense; you’d really hate for them to hear you cry after having been so kind. You’re not ungrateful in the slightest, but already you prep yourself for the disappointment of returning home come night. A preemptive grief for the life you can never give yourself.

A chorus of morning birdsong and your own, miserable sniffles lull you to sleep.

if anyone's curious, here's the floorplan i used to imagine ghoap's chalet! (source)

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Losing his cool

Heyy guyss, I hope you enjoy this reader x Lewis one shot :)

If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

The sun was shining high over the paddock, casting a warm glow over the Mercedes motorhome. You loved coming to the races whenever you could, always excited to support George, your younger brother, but also to soak in the electric atmosphere of the track.

Today, though, you were enjoying a rare moment of quiet, sitting comfortably on one of the sofas in the motorhome, your oversized sunglasses perched on your nose and your outfit, as always, effortlessly stylish.

As you scrolled through your phone, you felt a soft nudge against your leg. Glancing down, you saw Roscoe, looking up at you with those big, round eyes, his tail wagging with excitement.

"Well, hello there, handsome," you said with a smile, bending down to give him a scratch behind the ears. Roscoe flopped down at your feet, clearly in the mood for attention, and nudged a toy toward you. With a chuckle, you picked it up and started a gentle game of tug-of-war. His playful growls filled the motorhome, and you found yourself laughing as you pulled the toy from side to side, completely engrossed in the moment.

Lewis’s Perspective

Lewis walked out of a debriefing, looking forward to taking a breather in the motorhome. But as soon as he stepped out into the paddock, he noticed something — Roscoe was nowhere to be found. He furrowed his brow, scanning the area, wondering where his adventurous pup had wandered off to.

“Where’s Roscoe?” he mumbled, heading toward the motorhome. As soon as he stepped inside, his heart did a quick flip.

There you were — George’s older sister, casually lounging on the sofa, your smile lighting up the room as you played with Roscoe. He stood there for a moment, frozen.

From the first time Lewis had met you, you had an effect on him. You were effortlessly stylish, funny, and kind. Since that moment, he’d developed a quiet crush on you. The only problem? Whenever you were around, his confidence seemed to vanish.

Roscoe, sensing his presence, bounded over to him, wagging his tail.

“Oh, there you are,” you said, looking up with a grin. “I was starting to think I’d have to keep Roscoe for myself.”

Lewis chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, he’s good at wandering off. Sorry about that."

"No need to apologize," you replied, giving Roscoe one last pat before sitting up. "He’s great company."

Lewis felt the heat rise to his face, trying to hide how flustered he was. "He’s... yeah, he’s a good boy."

You smiled, tilting your head slightly. "So, what about you? How’ve you been? George told me you're are getting into music again, what’s on your playlist these days?"

The sudden switch in conversation threw him off guard. "Uh, playlist?" He cleared his throat, his mind racing to come up with an answer. "I’ve been listening to a lot of old-school hip-hop lately. Kendrick Lamar, a bit of J. Cole. Stuff like that."

Your eyes lit up with interest. "Kendrick, huh? Didn’t take you for a hip-hop fan. I like that." You leaned in slightly. "I’ve been obsessed with Sabrina Carpenter lately, especially her new album,."

Lewis grinned, feeling a bit more comfortable. "Sabrina is great. I'm not into pop music but I do like her songs, besides, I've heard that her live shows are insane, too."

You nodded, your gaze locked on his. "I bet. I’ve been dying to see her live. Maybe we should go to a concert sometime."

He froze at your words, his mind momentarily blank. Did you just suggest going to a concert together? He quickly tried to play it off casually. "Yeah, that could be fun."

You leaned back with a teasing smirk. "Could be?"

Lewis laughed awkwardly, his nerves creeping back in. "I mean, it would be fun. Definitely."

"That’s more like it." You gave him a playful wink, and Lewis couldn’t help but smile, though his heart was racing.

You tilted your head slightly, your expression softening. "So, how’s your break been? Any big plans?"

Lewis shifted, trying to keep his cool. "It’s been good. Spent some time hiking in Colorado with Roscoe. It was nice to get away from everything for a bit, you know?"

"Colorado sounds amazing," you said, your eyes lighting up. "I’ve always wanted to go hiking out there. Maybe you can show me around sometime?"

Lewis blinked, his heart skipping a beat. He hadn’t expected you to be so direct. "Uh, yeah, sure. I mean, if you’re ever out there…"

You smiled, clearly amused by his nervousness. "I’ll hold you to that."

As the conversation continued, Lewis found himself relaxing more, enjoying your company as you chatted about music, travel, and everything in between. But when the conversation lulled, you stood up, brushing a hand through Roscoe’s fur one last time.

"Well, it was nice catching up with you," you said, smiling warmly at him. "And since you’ve been dodging the question all afternoon… how about I make it easy for you?"

Lewis blinked, confused. "Question? What question?"

You laughed softly, stepping closer. "I know you’re not going to ask me out, so... how about I ask you instead?" Your tone was playful, but your eyes held his steadily. "What do you say, Lewis? Dinner next weekend?"

Lewis’s heart nearly stopped. He hadn’t seen that coming at all. His mind raced, trying to process the fact that you had just asked him out. "You... want to go out with me?"

You grinned, shaking your head at his surprise. "Yes, Lewis. I want to go out with you. What do you think?"

His nerves suddenly melted away, replaced by a wave of excitement. "I’d love that," he said, his voice a bit more confident now.

"Good," you said, giving him one last playful smile before turning to leave. "I’ll text you."

As you walked away, Lewis stood there, dumbfounded but grinning from ear to ear. Roscoe barked softly, as if to say, It’s about time.

Lewis shook his head, still in disbelief. "Yeah, Roscoe," he muttered, glancing down at his dog. "It’s about time."

[fabric-shower-curtain]

By complete accident I somehow have the autopsy scar mod on top of the bhaalist tattoo mod, don’t ask me how they’re both on my durge I have no idea how it happened. But it got me thinking how would the origin characters (+halsin) react/barely react to a lover that is heavily scarred and tattooed? (Set in Act 1)

Read more for the full brainrot

Astarion: The first time Astarion saw your body for himself was when he walked past your tent late at night, through the flaps in the entrance he saw all those scars, he couldn’t tell what had you awake this late in the night, especially mostly naked with your back turned. The vampire simply continued on his way to hunt for the night. He dropped it there, until that is, the second night in the clearing you two spent together. He was lying down leaning his head against his arms as his red eyes stared at your naked body. His eyes flowed down every scar that littered your body, he barely seemed to look at the tattoos but that’s what he asked about first “So, can you translate that one?” - he points to the tattoo across your left arm, lifting up the limb you pull your skin to take a proper look at it. It’s been a while since you properly saw it, because just out of sight enough to make it annoying to stare at. When you tell him Astarion seems content with the information. His fingers drift across the tattoo. It’s a tender moment until the elf’s hand floats toward your neck. His ice cold fingers dancing across the lingering puncture wounds on your neck - “But these are by far my favorite mark on you,” You lean into Astarion’s touch releasing a chuckling sigh before calling him the weirdest flirt you have ever seen.

Gale: He really didn’t mean to go to the river at the same time he truly meant to go two hours early when he said he would, but that tome was particularly interesting - the effects of adrenaline on libido, certainly important for a man so restricted by his netherese orb. But now it was two hours past and he definitely had a musk going on. Taking an extra robe and rag Gale went to the nearby river, only you were there too. Illuminated in moonlight you were bare in front of him. Gale cleared his throat loudly, trying to let you know he was there. What he did not expect was for you to whip around and get out of the water to say hello. He tried his best to only look at your face, he did not succeed. Your skin was glowing with a vei of water cascading down in droplets. Gale’s eyes followed one droplet from your hair, down your neck, across your chest until a certain tattoo caught his eye, infernal script. Trying to keep his focus on the tattoo rather than the flesh its on he asked you if it meant what he thought it did. He was right in fact, and you told him the story behind why you got it, quite the nice tale. The wizard relaxed enough to notice another scar across your soldier “Is that from a magic missile?” He asked without thinking. Nodding in confirmation you turned to show your shoulder blade where the other two missiles struck. As you turned around the coldness of the night hit you like a thunder wave, a massive shiver shook your entire body spraying tiny water droplets around. “Gosh you must be freezing,” - Gale wrapped you in his towel-rag before stressfully ushering you back towards the camp. Once you got back to your tent you realized you left your towel and clothes on a nearby rock, you could return the peeping Tom favor.

Halsin: Halsin adores you long before he ever saw your birthday suit, sure he thought about it, quite a lot, but with his focus deep on the shadow-curse he doesn’t have time to do much other than think about out. But the first time he does see you was far from romantic or sensual. A hook horror had slashed your entire back open when you got to close, and Halsin watched it all happen. Before the beast even hit the ground he was rushing over to you, he didn’t think, he just ripped your armor right off of you to get to the wound. You might have been screaming but his ears were ringing too loud to tell one noise from another. Halsin couldn’t even see where scar ended and fresh cut began, your tattoos were doused in enough blood to make them impossible to see against your skin. The bear of an elf’s hand floated above the wound with the same glowing blue light the hook horror’s body was basking in, thank silvanus he was far enough from the sussur tree for his magic to work. Even with his healing a scar in the same place as the monster's claw marks stayed. Halsin’s druidic skills must be faltering, that’s what he determines at least. Until the next day, you’re healed fully up and about getting ready to leave camp for the day. Halsin calls out your name - “I’m sorry I could not heal you fully, I tried best I could but the scar persists” to his confusion you begin laughing. The scar he’s so upset about has been on you for so long now, and you tell him such. His healing left no scar, in fact he healed you so well an old scar was able to show.

Karlach: The first time she saw you naked you were bathing next to each other after a battle. Even with Dammon’s initial upgrade you can’t touch each other, but you swore to find ways to be intimate without touching, just like this. However you neglected to inform her about what lay under your clothes until now, scars covering you head to toe interlaced with tattoos of varying quality. “Hey Soldier! How come you didn’t tell me before stealing my aesthetic!” You didn’t even register this was the first time exposing yourself in such a way, a brief moment of panic before you burst into a smile. “Come here, let me see them” Karlach makes you twirl around, using the faintest touch of her fingers to pull your arms out and see the tattoos wrapping around them. Her eyes continued to trail down your body, after a gasp she jumped back up to your face - “That burn scar looks like mine!” She said before pulling down her trousers to show you the near identically placed scar on her thigh. But Karlach didn’t ask about the obviously fresher stab scars, she continued to smile at her new discovery but lets the two of you properly bathe for once.

Lae’zel: Even when pinning you against a wall the githyanki warrior wasn’t particularly gentle. It’s not like you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into tonight, she had said pretty explicitly she seemed carnal pleasure. Somehow Lae’zel was even more assertive in such a scenario than during your adventures. You couldn’t even take your own armor off, she practically ripped it off of you. Your body is exposed to her in an instant, she doesn’t react, her hands go immediately to unlace your trousers and undergarments. The night is enjoyable even as exhausting as it was. Only much later does Lae’zel ever comment on them, and its in a conversation praising you two’s battle prowess “Each scar is a battle fought, a battle won.” You try not to tell her you have at least two scars from dropping the knife while cooking with Gale. She’s sweet in her own way.

Shadowheart: Shadowheart first saw you naked while healing a particularly cruel wound, goblin had snuck up on you and slashed your torso deep. You stabilized yourself quick enough with a healing potion but the wound persisted. After the battle you wandered your way over to Shadowhearts tent, asking for help. She laid you down atop her bedroll, sliding your shirt off as you let yourself relax into the makeshift bed. And then you caught it, Shadowheart’s eyes widened, shit. But she didn’t say anything; she pressed her warm hands towards your open wound as they lit alight with magic. Radiating from your gash the warm feeling washed over you, your eyes closed softly breathing out in relief. Shadowheart quelled her magic, looking over you for a fat moment. You can feel her eyes wandering over you, up and down your chest, down your stomach and across both your arms. The relief of healing has left you now but you’re still too scared to open your eyes. And then a soft hand traced along your largest scar, her fingers were so light it tickled. “I like your tattoos.” The half-elf’s voice was soft, her eyes focused back on your large scar, “How’d you get that one.” Whether or not you tell the story she’s content, happy to have this extra piece of you in her memory.

Wyll: Poor Wyll just wanted to ask about the plans for tomorrow, but not only did he smack his horns on the skeleton of your tent while entering but you’re also as naked as the day you were born. The man nearly shrieked like he saw a ghost, his entire chest swelled up with his shoulders shooting up and he looked like he just swallowed a frog. Without a word Wyll turned on his heel and left your tent, only after trying to cool his blushing face off did he even process all your markings. Upon the log he sat on he dragged his hand up and down his face trying to process what the hells just happened. And then you exited your tent, completely decent this time. You greeted Wyll and sat beside him wondering what he had barged in about in the first place. But the poor man can’t even look at you. He as calmly as he could gave you the sincerest apology you’ve ever heard. After your acceptance he finally turns to you “So what does that tattoo across your back mean?” You pause for a moment, then explain as best you can. And that conversation continues just like that, he’d ask how you got a certain scar or tattoo and you’d answer him. In return he showed you one particularly nasty scar on his arm from a monster he fought while traversing the sword coast. What may have started as the most embarrassing moment of your partnership ended with you closer than before.

[mx-pastelwriting]

Dark Eyes

Carlisle Cullen x GN! Reader

Summary: Coming home from a trip to your dark eyed lover.

Warnings: Fluff, Carlisle hungry, Black (Hungry) eyes, Worry, Talk of starvation, Light Angst

The warm afternoon blew through the open windows of the car as you drove through the familiar woods, turning as the roads came into view of your windowed home.

Feeling refreshed at the sight, you pull into the driveway slowly. Stepping out of the car, you see Carlisle standing on the stone path. Quickly, you grab your things from the back before walking up and wrapping your arms around him.

Doing the same, though his being tighter, rocking you in his arms giving a kiss to the side of your head. "I missed you," he whispered, remembering how hard it was for him. Being his mate, you didn't feel the effects as much as he did as a human, breaking away from his chest while still in his arms as you looked up at him.

Gazing into the black eyes of your lover, frowning at the unfamiliar sight, makes him take notice. "My absences stresses you that much," you say before he has an excuse for not needing to worry; he had nothing to say, only letting you look at him in his starved state. As you looked over him, the afternoon sun made his skin glow, making you miss his amber eyes, how they contrasted with his blond hair, which brought warmth to you.

"I go out after you get settled," he says softly, taking your bag from your hand. No matter how graceful he was in the moment, he was avoiding your worry. Walking into your home, follow him up the stairs to your bedroom, watching as he sets your bag down on your shared bed before working on putting things away.

"You don't have to do that," you say behind him, but he persists, stopping his hand with a simple touch. Looking at you with a smile as soft as ever, though his eyes told a different story, how they looked with erraticity, the feeling of fault crept in you of how he suffered from you only simply leaving for a few nights.

"Don't look at me with those eyes; go hunt; I'll be here." You reassure him, seeing as his stone-like body relaxes, he nods with a tight smile. Disappearing before your eyes, you take his spot, unloading what was left from his stressed unpacking of your bag. You zip up your bag then throwing it to the floor, watching as nightfall came shortly after with the hope he would stay out there, gaining his strength back as he would need it for tonight.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is and grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

[wroteclassicaly]

Warnings: Just some cute and domestic fluff.

Hearing the beeping smoke alarm just regulating. The quiet of the trailer. Even the occasional chirp of the bird Wayne got as a gift from you. He loves birds and bird watching, nowadays. When you wake up, Eddie is asleep, his scarred, bare back at your disposal, sheets pulled around his trim waistline, barely covering his unclothed ass. He’s not the lightest sleeper, so you simply slide out of bed, working your panties back on from last night, a discarded baggy shirt with holes you’d left here, and grab your bath robe off his corner chair. One last look at the messy haired boy in your shared bed, you can’t believe that you’re in this moment with him - so lucky, so happy.

The realization that you’re still a little unsteady on your feet from previous activities, it has you gripping the panel walls. The soft hum of the set has you smiling as you approach the kitchen, Wayne bent over the couch trying to pack a few things in his camp duffel. There’s freshly brewed coffee that you inhale, and Shiner (the bird) makes note of your presence. Your tap a finger at his cage.

“Good mornin’, kiddo. Did I wake you guys?” Wayne manages a smile, and you shake your head.

“Good morning. And no, you didn’t.” You motion towards his bag. “You leaving for a bit?”

It’s so cute how bashful he is. He motions towards the weather report through a haze of colors on the little set. You nod. “Gonna be a stormy day, so thought I’d take my lady fishin’ for a bit. Stay at hers, get some rest before the drive out. She’s makin’ us a picnic.”

You really wanna bottle this man up and keep him safe, because he’s practically glowing right now.

“Did you get breakfast? I can have an omelet and some bacon for in a few minutes.” You place your mug down after several passing moments.

He zips up his bag and shakes his head at you fondly. “Actually, I did. Picked up some McDonald’s after my shift. Left your’s and Ed’s shares in the oven to keep warm. Should be all right still.”

You marvel, thanking him, moving to swiftly kiss his cheek as he zips his bag closed, patting his pockets for a double check. You’re retrieving the food by the time he’s stepping out the door.

“Love ya, sweetheart. Tell my boy I said love him too. I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

“Love you, Wayne. Be safe, okay? Tell Ms. Henderson we say hello. Let Dustin know Eds will call him a little later for tonight’s match, if you don’t mind?”

~*~

He has woken up, scratching his belly and rubbing his massive, curly bed head, clad in his sweats and a shirt by the time you have the food plated. You pretend you don’t hear him, distracted by task. His soft, spicy scent and the smell of you clings to his skin as he approaches your backside, sliding his arms around you, chin pressing into your shoulder. “You left me in a mountain of sheets. I was lost without you, empress.”

“I think you faired well on your corridor travels, my King.” You turn in his arms to see that cheeky grin.

Both of you automatically lean in to meet mouths, that fresh desperation and desire never failing to excel its presence. “Hey, baby.” You greet in between kisses, his hands squeezing your waist through the fluffy fabric.

On the noisy breakaway, he leaves a few more clicks to your lips, accepting the plate you offer him and the coffee, making a move towards the couch as you join. “Did Wayne have an over?” He tucks a sweat clad length beneath him, one of your borrowed shirts hanging from his slender form.

“Overnight date with Dustin’s momma.”

Eddie just grins, but then he does that face (the one where he knows he’s forgotten something, and attempts to tackle the misplaced thought). You catch on quickly. “Told him to tell Dustin to call later for your meeting details. It’s supposed to storm all day.”

He takes a bit of his sausage breakfast roll, wiggling his brows. “Good. Mother Nature providing the master with her sound effects.”

“And…” he starts with another add on. “Gives us a lot of time to ourselves, sweetheart.”

You simply bury yourself into his neck, listening to his raspy chuckle, and finish your breakfast after Eddie has changed the weather to an old movie channel. You shower first whilst Eddie tidies up the place and puts on clean bedclothes, and he showers after, giving you time to put away the rest of the laundry. He doesn’t waste a second after coming out, not even a towel on. He finds you, already waiting, that sensed, shared energy — encouraged by a summer storm. He lays you down in his bed and you don’t leave until evening… reluctantly.

[todorokis-girl]

Later - Bakugou x f!reader

After years of distance and regrets, Bakugo and Y/N reunite in a private, bittersweet moment, finally confronting the feelings they’d left unspoken and finding their way back to each other.

The air buzzed with anticipation as the recent U.A. graduates gathered outside the hero certification facility, each ready to take the final step toward earning their official hero licenses. Y/N was pacing at the edge of the crowd, nervous energy radiating off her as she tried to steady her breathing.

“Oi.” A familiar, gruff voice cut through her thoughts, and she looked up to see Bakugo standing in front of her, arms crossed and his gaze just a little sharper than usual. “You’re not gonna screw this up, right?”

She gave a shaky laugh, more out of nerves than amusement. “I’ll do my best. Not sure it’ll be as easy as you make it look.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, right. ‘Best’ isn’t good enough here. You better pass.” He looked at her then, really looked at her, something unspoken flickering in his gaze before he forced it back. “Don’t make me have to drag you over the finish line.”

She managed a small smile, resisting the urge to say something deeper, something that might show him just how much she valued his support. “Good luck, Bakugo. I know you’ll crush it.”

For a second, he didn’t respond, as if weighing whether to say something more. But he just gave a stiff nod, his usual bravado muted. “Same to you, Y/N. Don’t hold back.”

They held each other’s gaze for a beat longer before turning away, each focused on the test ahead, yet carrying a weight neither dared to address.

The crowd was alive with celebration as new heroes gathered to share in their achievement. Y/N scanned the room, feeling the warmth of victory and relief. Her eyes fell on Bakugo, standing alone, his usual intensity softened in the glow of his accomplishment.

Before she knew it, her feet were carrying her toward him, and when he noticed her, something in his expression shifted—an unspoken acknowledgment of everything they’d been through to reach this point. Without hesitation, she threw her arms around him, pulling him into a hug, her gratitude and joy too much to hold back.

To her surprise, he returned the embrace, albeit stiffly, as if unsure how to handle it. “Don’t get all sappy on me now,” he muttered, his voice low. But he didn’t pull away, holding her just a moment longer than necessary.

“Can’t help it,” she teased, pulling back to look at him, her gaze softening. “We did it. I’m proud of us.”

His jaw tensed, and he looked away, as if trying to guard himself against the warmth in her words. “Yeah, well… took long enough.”

“Bakugo,” she said quietly, braving the words she’d been carrying for too long, “I… I’ve been meaning to talk to you. About us. I mean, I think there’s—”

But before she could finish, the group of friends and heroes-in-training around them surged, pulling them apart in the excitement of celebration. Bakugo’s eyes lingered on her as they were separated, and she thought she saw something unguarded there, just for a second, before he turned away, hands stuffed in his pockets, his shoulders tense.

“Yeah. Later,” he said, almost to himself, and the words were lost in the noise of the crowd.

Y/N’s fingers hovered over her phone, Bakugo’s name glowing on the screen. Her heart pounded as she considered calling him, thinking back to that hug and the words they’d left unsaid. She could practically hear his voice in her mind, the gruff, reassuring tone that had been her anchor through so many storms.

But before she could press the call button, her phone buzzed in her hand, startling her. It was an unknown number, and reluctantly, she answered. “Hello?”

“Y/N L/N?” a voice on the other end spoke, formal and clipped. “This is the Hero Commission. We’re assigning you to an urgent mission overseas, effective immediately. You’re needed for a high-stakes undercover operation, duration indefinite. Your agency will receive the full briefing, and a representative will meet you at the airport.”

Her heart sank, her mind whirling. The mission—she’d heard whispers of it but hadn’t expected to be pulled in so suddenly. She looked back down at her phone, Bakugo’s name still lighting up the screen, the call she’d been moments away from making now impossible.

“When do I leave?” she managed, her voice a strained whisper.

“You’re expected to report to the airport in three hours. We trust you’ll be there on time.”

After the call ended, she sat there, staring at her phone, the weight of her decision crushing her. She could make the call, confess everything, ask him to wait. But she knew it wouldn’t be fair—not to him, not with how long and uncertain this mission would be.

With a shaky breath, she turned off her phone, placing it face-down on the table before grabbing her packed bag, leaving everything she’d been waiting to say behind.

Years Later

Y/N hadn’t expected to be back in Japan so soon. The mission overseas had taken everything she had, stretching over years with no breaks, no contact, no hope of return. She’d buried herself so deep in her role that the thought of home had felt almost… impossible. But now, with the mission over and her body heavy with exhaustion, she found herself alone in the quiet of an agency conference room, trying to adjust back to reality.

She hadn’t let herself think about him in so long. The regret had faded over time, dulled by distance, but now, standing here alone, it came rushing back with a vengeance. She didn’t know if he was even here anymore, or if he’d want anything to do with her.

Then the door creaked open, and there he was. Bakugo stood in the doorway, taller, broader, with an intensity in his gaze that hadn’t faded one bit. For a long moment, neither of them spoke, each just staring at the other, as if unable to believe they were real.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice rough, guarded. He didn’t step forward, staying rooted in place, his fists clenched at his sides. “Didn’t know you were back.”

She forced a smile, though it wavered. “Just got in. They… let me go early.”

Silence settled between them, thick and weighted with all the words they hadn’t said. She wanted to move closer, to say something, but the wall he’d built around himself was almost tangible, keeping her at a distance.

“I… thought about calling,” she murmured, voice barely audible. “But I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me after all this time.”

Bakugo’s jaw tightened, his gaze flickering to the floor. “Didn’t think you cared. You left without a word, and I—” His voice cracked, and he took a sharp breath, as if trying to steady himself. “Figured you’d moved on.”

“No,” she whispered, finally taking a hesitant step toward him. “I never moved on. I just… I thought you’d be better off without me.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Better off? You have any idea how long I waited? How many times I thought about going after you?” His voice softened, and he looked up at her, the pain in his eyes raw, unguarded. “You think I didn’t care?”

She took another step forward, her hand reaching out, fingers brushing his. “I didn’t know… I was afraid if I asked you to wait, it wouldn’t be fair.”

He hesitated, looking down at her hand before finally meeting her gaze, his eyes full of the hurt and longing he’d carried all these years. “And now?”

Her hand trembled in his, but she held on, her heart pounding as she finally voiced the truth. “Now… I’m here. And I don’t want to run anymore.”

For a moment, he didn’t move, his expression a mixture of disbelief and anger, before he pulled her into his arms, his grip firm, as if afraid she’d disappear again. They stood there, locked in a silent embrace, years of longing and regret melting away as they clung to each other, each wordless promise hanging heavy between them.

Neither of them spoke, but in that moment, they knew there would be no more goodbyes.

Bakugo’s arms tightened around her as if he was afraid that if he loosened his hold, she’d disappear again. He pulled her close, his face buried against her shoulder, and she felt his heartbeat pounding in sync with her own. After all these years, neither of them moved to let go.

“Don’t—” His voice was rough, a low growl, muffled against her. “Don’t even think about pulling this crap again, you hear me?”

Her hand settled on his back, fingers clutching at the fabric of his jacket. “I’m not going anywhere, Bakugo,” she whispered. “Not anymore.”

For a long while, they stayed locked together in the silence of the empty conference room. She could feel the hesitation in his touch, the battle between anger and relief, and a small, sad smile formed on her lips. She knew that leaving had hurt him, that maybe it had hurt him more deeply than she’d allowed herself to imagine all these years. And that hurt had sat, festering, unaddressed.

He finally drew back, just enough to look at her, his eyes dark, guarded. His face was so close she could see every scar, every line—reminders of the battles he’d fought in her absence. His thumb brushed over her cheek, the touch light but lingering.

“You really think I’d just… forget about you?” His voice was a low rumble, but his gaze held a vulnerability she hadn’t seen before. “After all that?”

She swallowed, feeling the weight of his words settle around her heart. “I didn’t want to make you wait for something that… that might not have even happened. I didn’t know when I’d be able to come back, or if—”

“If you’d make it back at all,” he finished, his voice harsh, but there was a flicker of understanding there. He exhaled, frustration evident in his expression. “You didn’t give me a damn choice, Y/N. That’s what pissed me off the most. You took off without saying a word and left me with nothing but—” He cut himself off, clenching his jaw. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

“I know,” she said softly, looking away, guilt settling in her chest. “I thought it would be easier for you if… if you didn’t know. I thought that if I came back, maybe we could pick up where we left off, but…”

“But?” His hand was still on her cheek, his thumb grazing over her skin, almost absentmindedly.

“But I didn’t know if you’d still… if you’d even want to see me.” She forced herself to meet his gaze, her own eyes searching his for any hint of the feelings they’d once left unsaid. “If you’d moved on.”

A bitter laugh escaped him, and he shook his head, his fingers trailing down from her cheek to her jaw, his hand finally resting against her neck. “Stupid,” he muttered, but there was no real heat in his words. “How could I move on? I tried, okay? But every time, it was like… like I was just waiting for you to show up again.”

She felt the sting of tears but blinked them back, managing a shaky smile. “You always were stubborn, Bakugo.”

“And you’re impossible.” His voice softened, his thumb brushing against her skin with a gentleness that made her heart ache. “I’m mad at you, you know that?”

“I know.” She hesitated before adding, “And I’m sorry. I should’ve trusted you. I should’ve… I should’ve told you everything before I left.”

He seemed to consider that, his hand slipping from her neck to hold her face between his palms. “You’re right. You should have.”

She bit her lip, a rush of nerves washing over her as she forced herself to say the words that had stayed buried all this time. “Bakugo… I never stopped thinking about you. Even after all these years, you’re… you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.”

His eyes softened, the anger finally giving way to something raw, something she recognized as the feelings they’d both carried since U.A., since their paths had diverged. He leaned in, his forehead pressing against hers as his hands remained on her face, grounding her.

“Y/N.” His voice was barely a whisper, but it was filled with more emotion than she’d ever heard from him. “I waited for you. Don’t ever make me wait again.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she let out a shaky laugh. “I won’t. I’m here now.”

And then, finally, he kissed her. It was slow, hesitant at first, as if testing the weight of years that had kept them apart. But as the kiss deepened, she felt the walls around her heart begin to crumble, the regrets and doubts melting away as he held her close, grounding her in the warmth of his touch.

When they finally broke apart, he pressed his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her skin. “I hate you for making me wait so damn long,” he whispered, but the softness in his tone told her that he didn’t mean it.

She chuckled, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him close again. “Guess I’ll have to make it up to you then.”

“Damn right, you will,” he murmured, his lips finding hers again, as if he was making up for every second he’d missed.

[umbramoons]

TECH MOMENTS PT. 5

The Bad Batch S1 E1: Aftermath

This one's a doozy, my friends! Enjoy 100+ bullet points and 50+ pics of our favorite clone genius!

- Running through the droids, putting an explosive on everyone he can get his hands on. ❤

- “Hey, clanker! Catch!” (This was the moment I realized that I like him. My brain did a double take, like: "Wait he's attractive.") ❤

- Kicking a droid for no reason ❤

- Walking off the battlefield like it wasn’t even hard.

- I love the little distracted wave he gives General Billaba. Everything about him is just so endearing to me. 

- His voice is a little more deep and raspy than usual while he’s talking about the war ending. Gosh, I’m down so bad for this man.

- He’s the only one who doesn’t have a blaster drawn when they first approach Caleb.

- Tech is one of the ones sent to talk to the regs about what’s going on. Echo makes sense since he’s technically still a reg, too, but why Tech? Because he’s the least likely to cause a problem.

- He’s also the first one to run to talk to the regs. Taking initiative once again.

- Tech: “The regs have been ordered to execute the Jedi.”

Hunter: “What? Which Jedi?” 

Tech: “All of them.” The disbelief in his voice is subtle but there.

- This is a glow-up, people (a small one since he was already pretty, but still)! Tech is gorgeous, and no one can tell me otherwise. ❤

- I love his tiny smile when he finishes explaining how long they’ve been gone.

- The disappointed look on his face when Wrecker doesn’t understand his explanation of how long they’ve been away from Kamino.

- He has the smallest smile on his face when he hears that General Grevious has been defeated.

- “Just like I said.”

- He looks so done when Wrecker punches him.

- When the clones pass by with the body of a Jedi, it’s Tech Hunter shares a look with.

- “Excuse me, trooper, what division are you from?” *gets shoved aside* “Oh. Well, they seem the same to me.” ❤

- He immediately starts working on something once he gets back to their barracks.

- All the formulas and calculations on his bunk wall… a result of his sleepless nights, I’m sure.

- I love the curious look he gives Crosshair when he says they didn’t complete every objective.

- “And my exceptional mind.” I love him an unhealthy amount.

- “My guess is we are immune to the effects of the programming.” *looks at Crosshair* “Though I can’t be one hundred percent certain of it.” He looks so. Kriffing. GORGEOUS.

- “You are more machine than man. Percentage-wise, at least.” His little reassurance to Echo at the end.

- Hunter: “This is one meeting I don’t want to miss.”

Tech: “First time for everything.”

- The way he’s just looking at his datapad throughout the meeting.

- Stepping out of line to ask Hunter what’s wrong. First of all, noticing something’s up with him. And second, it takes some serious courage to break formation like that during such an important briefing while all your superiors can clearly see you.

- “Still don’t think the regs are programmed?”

- Crosshair: “Republic, Empire, what’s the difference?” 

Tech: “The systematic termination of the Jedi is a big one for me.” ❤

- “Adolescent human female. Origins... uncertain.”

- Tech’s mouth quirks up in a tiny smile when Omega says she was wondering when they’d come back. He already likes her.

- His look of surprise when he realizes Omega knows his name.

- The way he stares after Omega in wonder. ❤

- There’s this split second (right after Hunter says "everyone's talking about it) where it looks like he’s looking directly into the camera, and it’s just like, “Well hello there, sir.”

- “Hopefully not mental. Clearly, we’d never pass that.” It's okay, I'm not neurotypical either, babe.

- Leaning around Hunter to see Omega.

- “You want to sit with us? That’s never happened before.”

- He can’t stop grinning at Omega after she says she likes him and his team for not fitting in. ❤

- I love the way his expression shifts when Hunter asks where Omega’s family is. Like, "that's actually a really good point."

- The way his face instantly drops when the regs make a jab at them. At Omega. He’s used to being pushed around, but he’s not pleased to see this precious girl being mocked.

- I love the way he’s all squared up in the background of this fight.

- Calling out a warning to Echo and then running over to the clone who knocks him out. It doesn’t show it, but Tech definitely threw a punch at the guy for hurting his best friend. ❤

- “We’re more deviant than we are defective.”

- “Then we are not being reprimanded?” He’s so used to getting in trouble.

- His eye roll when Wrecker charges into battle without thinking. I thank God every day that we can always see his eyes with those goggles. ❤

- He’s not at all phased by passing through live rounds to get to Wrecker. He’d gladly walk through fire for the people he loves.

- “Wrecker, are you alright?”

- That little head shake when Hunter signals a plan to him. Like he doesn’t think it will work, but he knows they have no other option.

- Wrecker: “Aw, I hate hand signals!” 

Tech: “Perhaps if you memorized them?” 

Wrecker: “Why don’t you memorize them?” 

Tech: “I have.”

- They’re in the middle of a battle, but he’s sitting against those barriers so casually.

- The way he stops Wrecker from crushing the droid.

- Reprogramming the droid, then choosing to ride on its shoulders like a legend. (Note that it looks like he’s the only one to specifically get an impressed reaction out of Tarkin with his performance in this simulation) ❤

- Can I also just say how impressive that was? He completely reprogrammed a hostile droid to follow his commands while under heavy fire. In less than a minute. What a man, what a legend.

- “Wrecker. Look alive.” I feel like he has the capacity to lead, he just doesn’t want to.

- Reaches out to Wrecker (who calls him buddy). “I’m -” *flops down* “not going anywhere.” ❤

- I love the way he takes a deep breath and straightens his posture for a second after Echo and Wrecker help him up.

- “There’s a fundamental difference between taking fire in battle and being used as target practice.” I love how upset he is about this. Also, he’s also backing up Wrecker’s feelings with his own here.

- None of the others make eye contact with Tarkin when he’s examining them. Tech does and practically glares at him. ❤

- I love his expression shift when Tarkin says the insurgents are Separatists. I can’t place the expression, but I love it. It’s almost like “Come on, I thought the war was over. Oh well.”

- I love his little disappointed look when Echo says he can’t crack the files. And then how he immediately offers to help.

- “That’s not going near my rack. I refuse to sleep by a projectile again.” AGAIN?!

- Tech comes right behind Hunter to exit the ship (and then leads them for a significant portion of their walk). Possibly symbolizing his position within the squad.

- Echo: “What was that?”

  Tech: “You don’t want to know.” 😑

- “Easy, Wrecker. Your programming’s kicking in.” I legit laughed out loud at this when I first watched the show. ❤

- His datapad lighting up his eyes makes him look so beautiful.

- Hunter always relies on him.

- The way he instantly senses that something’s wrong when he can’t see any droids in the camp.

- “There aren’t any droids, Wrecker.” You can tell that he’s starting to get a little agitated about this situation.

- Defending both sides when others choose one.

- Tech is the first one to ease up and stand down. Almost the second he hears Hunter start talking, like he knew he was going to tell them to back off. (And his eyes look stunning in that shot when he does. They immediately soften and become non-threatening.) You can just tell how much he and Hunter respect and trust each other. ❤

- He looks so pretty in this warm light of the camp. Who am I kidding, he looks good in every lighting.

- Geeking out over Saw. (And Saw is absolutely staring him down as he does. Like, they’re having a staring contest until he’s handed a weapon to examine. I don’t like that foreshadowing.)

- I also love the look on his face when Cross says “Is that a request?” I just always love his expressions.

- The way he leans forward with the tiniest hint of concern when Saw tells them to look at the insurgents they were sent to destroy. Anyone who says Tech is emotionless hasn’t been paying attention to him at all.

- His offended look when Saw said he thought he was the smart one.

- He is absolutely GORGEOUS in that shot where Crosshair says that the war is over. He’s literally flawless, and he’s perfect.

- “At least with the Republic, we knew where we stood. Tarkin and this Empire are a whole different story.”

- He literally jerks back in surprise when Cross says that Hunter isn’t fit to lead their squad.

- The concerned and confused look on his face when Hunter brings up Omega.

- “I would not discount Omega’s insight. A state of heightened awareness is not unusual for an enhanced clone such as herself.” Standing up for Omega before he knows her that well. ❤

- “When Nala Se spoke of five clones, Tarkin assumed that meant us, but Echo’s a reg. The fifth is Omega.”

- “Well, I thought it was obvious.” Leans against the doorframe like he couldn’t care less. ❤

- That glare when Crosshair suggests leaving Omega on Kamino.

- His little breath before saying “this is unusual” just makes him feel so alive to me.

- I love how he’s constantly glancing over and making eye contact with Crosshair. These two were so close.

- HIS BLACKS. TECH IN HIS BLACKS. Hallelujah for this scene. We wouldn’t be nearly as familiar with everyone's body types without it. Gorgeous man. Everyone likes to talk about Hunter's tiny waist, but Tech's is just as snatched.

- “Well, the mission wasn’t a total failure.” Of course he’s the first one to notice Omega. ❤

- His face is so warm and happy when he sees Omega. And then he immediately shifts to unamused at Crosshair’s complaint. ❤

- He shoots another tiny smile Omega’s way when Hunter says they were looking for her.

- “I never thought you disobeying orders was a problem.” Facts, love.

- Crosshair never directs his anger at Tech. It’s always at the others. Even if Tech does say something he doesn’t like, he doesn’t get mad until someone else expounds upon it, and then he snaps at them. Cross clearly has a favorite here.

- Cross starts shaking his head with clear distress and frustration when Wrecker says that they disobey orders all the time, and you can see that Tech notices it. He tilts his head and frowns a little bit. ❤

- The concerned look he and Echo exchange when Crosshair starts to confront Hunter again.

- He looks freaked out when the guards hit Hunter. 

- Reaching out for Crosshair when they take him away. That broke my heart when I first noticed it. ❤

- The way he bounces his leg when he’s thinking hard. ❤

- “I’ve got it! Why didn’t I think of it before?”

- He talks with his hands. ❤

- Covering his mouth when Wrecker talks too loud.

- Running his fingers over the wall to see where the weak point is. ❤

- The confusion and worry on his face when Wrecker says it still didn’t work. Gorgeous, gorgeous.

- The way he glances over at Hunter (or probably the guards) before going over to help Wrecker. Ugh, he’s literally perfect.

- “Oh, yes it did.” ❤

- Bending a metal panel with his bare hands like it’s nothing. My man is strong! I love how he doesn’t follow the trope of the nerdy character being weak.

- Wrecker: “I’ll never fit through that!” 

Tech shakes his head. “Astute as always, Wrecker.”

- I love the way he rolls his eyes and facepalms when Wrecker blows their cover.

- Grabbing a blaster and stunning the last conscious guard. He shoots twice, just to be sure, and carries the blaster. He’s such a boss.

- Turning to confirm the guards aren’t dead (or going to follow them) before leaving the brig.

- Tech looks so cute when he tells Wrecker to hold still.

- I love how Tech serves as the unofficial medic (with Echo’s help, of course).

- Omega: “I guess I got lucky.”

Tech: “She's not the only one.” *gestures to Wrecker without looking up* ❤

- "What's the plan, Hunter?"

- Omega: “What about your friends? Could any of them help us?” 

Tech: “That would be a short list.” 

- The way he leans in and smiles so brightly when Omega asks that question.

- His smile when Hunter tells him to plot a course for J-19. ❤

- I love the way he shakes his head with clear affection when Wrecker cheers this time.

[genericpuff]

Hello! I’m just here bc I’m a little confused on what you meant by Smythe drawing out “each individual asset” when she was making comics? Now, granted, I can see that it made her file ginormous, but me personally as someone who knows nothing about making online comics but is really wanting to get into it (and also as someone who has a ‘too many layers’ problem myself), is there a way to avoid using too many layers?

My current way of making comics has been to draw the panels individually and then format them (which I know is terrible management wise and also messes with the quality) but I honestly have no other idea of how to do it properly, and seeing how stunning Lore Rekindled looks, I don’t know how you would manage to put all that lighting effects and little details on the same layers. (But also I may be thinking of it wrong so I’ll let you talk qwq)

Ah I can actually give you a visual breakdown of what I meant by that!

So in this you can see there are a TON of layers, and not even all of them are visible because some of them are stuffed into FOLDERS that have been left closed. BUT if you look REEEEALLY carefully-

^^^ These layers right here? That's specifically Minthe from this panel in Episode 61:

(the unique pose here makes it real easy to tell that this is the corresponding panel, you can see the matching body shape with the dark shading that's clipped to the base layer below it!)

So what this means is that Rachel didn't draw all her characters on one base layer, she drew every single character in every single panel separately. Now of course, she could merge all these layers together as working on separate layers helps make it easier to work on elements that collide separately (like one character being 'underneath' another character like Hades is here) but because she has all of those clipping layers with the shading already added in, she likely didn't merge them afterwards because that would actually create MORE problems (because if she merged the Minthe layer in with Hades, then the shading for Minthe that she painted outside of the lines would show up on Hades and then she'd have to erase it which is just a bunch of extra work).

You can also tell all these characters are on their own layer because the layer thumbnail EXCLUSIVELY shows those characters. A layer will show as much canvas length as it needs to cover what's in that layer, so if the thumbnail is only showing one character, that means there's NOTHING ELSE on that layer. If there were more elements on this layer than just Minthe, the layer thumbnail would look more like this:

Now let's compare it to Rekindled's layers! I'll use a completed page to make it fair as we use a lot of extra layers in the post-production phase where we add the texture effects and glow and all that fun stuff, plus I'll even make it a more complicated page like that big nymph explanation spread from Episode 51:

So I'll break it down to make this make more sense:

BG 2 Copy (technically this is supposed to be BG 1) - Basically the panel shapes, what I'll do is mark out the panels with flat blocks and through that we'll add background elements in a clipping layer (usually done by Banshriek). Often times they'll do multiple layers to make the process easier and then merge them all together in the end. With these shapes operating as panels, it means I can just auto select the whole layer, invert the selection, and easily erase whatever's outside of it (such as the lineart and base colors that I put down afterwards). I could just use masking layers like I did in [AFTERBIRTH] but I find this way works better for the process of making Rekindled.

BG 2 - This is where we add objects / foreground elements. So stuff like furniture, interactables, anything that needs to be kept separate from the larger background to make it easier to work with. This can also include "floating" panels that need to be above other panels, such as this:

All of the backgrounds are then nested in a folder for organization purposes (we also sometimes use clipping layers on top of those folders to apply extra effects over anything contained within that folder without affecting other folders, that's a common technique that Banshriek applies)

Then we get into our Characters folder:

BASE - This is where I do the majority of my work, all the characters in every panel on a page are flatted into this layer. Sometimes I do have to create separate layers to, again, make it easier to work with overlapping characters, but usually those layers will be merged before I go into the shading process. I simply shade on a single layer by using the lasso / magic wand tool to select my area for painting, the flat colors make it really easy to do that. Sometimes I need to create a secondary shading layer if I've put down dark colors that start to bleed into the lighter colors, but again, I merge when I'm done into a single shading layer. We also sometimes employ an Add (Glow) layer into the clipping set if we need a glow effect that's exclusive to the characters and doesn't travel outside of their base colors.

There's a (leaves) layer here that I used for the dryad because I needed the leaves to be above the base layer, after that I selected the leaves elements so that I could erase the lineart in the layer above it where needed.

LINEART - It's lineart, enough said haha That said, I do think Rachel actually uses clipping layers for her lineart in places, it seems to be visible in some of her process videos where you can see the lineart present in a clipping layer, and that would explain why there are panels where the lineart suddenly 'cuts off' and doesn't travel outside of the base layer, like so:

GLOW - This is where we do an Add (Glow) layer that isn't restricted to the base layer, it's where we add all the fun lil' glow and sparkle effects over the characters !

The CLOUDS layer is, like the leaves, a background element that needs to be above the base layers rather than constricted to the background.

Above the Characters folder you can see what I mentioned earlier where Banshriek has added more post-production effects that are exclusively clipped to the contents of the Characters folder. This means the effects / blend modes do NOT affect the background layers or anything above it.

The BLUR (Overlay) layer is something we just started doing over the past several episodes, it's a technique I actually picked up from 66 of City of Blank where I merge all the layers into a new visible layer which I then apply a Gaussian Blur to at around 60% and then set to Overlay (and then I adjust the layer opacity until it looks right, usually around 25-35%), it gives it a bit of a softer "dreamier" vibe in the final colors and really helps unify everything!

CANVAS - This is an Overlay layer which is also set to an opacity of 25-35% where I go over the panels with the Add Canvas brush from the Kyle Webster set, unlike the Canvas overlay texture in CSP I can actually choose the colors I want to use which means I can match the canvas texture color to the mood and environment of the scene (ex. I'll use a very light blue for scenes in the Underworld). Not only does it give it that signature texture from S1 of LO, but it also helps balance out the effects of the BLUR layer.

The SKETCH layer sits on top of everything and gets turned off once all the base layers and lineart are down, and ofc the SPEECH folder is just where all the text is kept.

I know everything I just laid out is a LOT but ultimately it's how we operate, it works for us! But it also begs the question of why Rachel operates the way she does because a lot of it seems extremely unnecessary and more likely to bite her in the ass (the more layers there are, the bigger your file size gets, the risk of drawing on the wrong layer increases as well as the risk of posting a panel that's missing elements because the layer was left turned off by mistake, etc.) And it's more so concerning with how she operates with her assistants because if she's still using this many layers when collaborating with other people, hooo boy. Though based on what I've observed of what her assistants contribute, I get a lot more of the sense that she circumvents this by having the artists do the flats separately and then importing them in as separate assets that she then just imports into the page and places them where they need to be. Still not a great workflow IMO because it's what's led to a lot of the issues of characters "floating" rather than feeling like they're actually in the environment-

-but that's still an issue that could be solved by Rachel just taking more time to actually flesh out the backgrounds and lighting to give more of an impression of the characters actually existing in the space. Like that Hestia panel could easily be fixed by just giving the background a bit more detail and putting actual shading underneath her (and lighting from whatever direction it's coming from).

Either way, regardless of whether or not Rachel's process is productive or not, I hope that breakdown helps explain how we do it in Rekindled! Learning how to manage layers is definitely a skill that can be tricky to harness, but once it "clicks" there's a lot you can get away with. Ultimately how you do it is up to you, but my best piece of advice to offer is to just be open to other types of workflows because you don't know how much you might be shooting yourself in the foot doing things the hard way when there are often way easier and more efficient ways to get the same job done. That's basically the vibe I get from observing Rachel's workflow, it seems like she's still using methods that she thinks are working for her (and probably did work just fine for her when it was JUST her) but could be vastly improved for her and her team if she'd just get over the initial hump of stepping outside of her comfort zone. Would probably make for a better comic too LOL

I hope that helps! Good luck! ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

[lokisgoodgirl]

Red Alert [Brodinsons]

Part of the Brother Collection A link to my Regular Masterlist is HERE Summary: An assassin gets into Thor's room and Loki meets someone unexpected in the rush to his bedside. Warnings: Brotherly feels. Mild peril. Mild flirting. Thor being an idiot. (w/c 1.6k)

Loki scowled disapprovingly towards the doorway of the communal living area. There seemed to be some sort of commotion.

He let out a scathing sigh, the ineffectual gesture lessening the annoyance somehow. Suddenly the doors flew open, a harassed looking Natasha hanging around the frame. Her grip on the handle, the look in her eyes. Concern, he thought. He frowned. No. Panic. And that could mean only one thing. A red alert.

Loki stood immediately, letting the book in his lap slide to the floor. “What news?” he said with readiness, casting a wary glance out the window as seidr began to glow in the nest of his palms.

It was mid-morning. A sea of blue skies and untouched skyscrapers. No chitauri. It was a start. “It’s your brother,” Nat said, catching her breath. Loki rolled his eyes, starting to lower himself again; but she countered with an exasperated wave of her hand back and forth. “No...no you don’t understand Loki. He’s hurt – it was an assassin.”

“What?!” Loki thundered, beginning to stride to the doorway. He breezed past Natasha. “Why didn’t you tell me?!” he spat, before hurrying to the elevator. “I did tell you. Right now, asshole-” she shouted, but Loki paid her no mind. He repeatedly pressed the elevator button with his thumb. “Blasted...midgardian…” - he slammed a palm against the metal. It dented. Right on cue, the doors pinged open. Loki grit his teeth, cursing his luck. Because of course, who was it inside? You. Naturally. “Hello.” he said bluntly. It was cold. “Hello,” you replied warily. He felt your eyes glance down his body and back to his face with that same look Natasha had. Norns, he must look awful in these accursed sweatpants. You cleared your throat softly. “Are you...alright, Loki?” “No.” he snarled, squinting at the small floor directory above the buttons. He sighed, wringing his hands as he chided his rudeness. Even in a situation such as this, his manners should not desert him. Gods above, you smelled incredible. You must think him an uncouth monster. He felt himself lick his lips, turning towards you with pleading eyes. “Which of these circular effects brings one to the medical bay?” Your reached forwards and pressed one. Loki stared at the illuminated light. Tears were beginning to well in his eyes. “Thank you,” he murmured, staring at the floor as the elevator began to move. “Loki?” you probed.

The gentleness of your voice made him want to crawl into your embrace and never leave. He saw you step closer out the corner of his eye. “What’s happened?” Loki bristled as your hand touched his shoulder. Ever so softly. He looked up, meeting the gaze he dreamt so often of. Only empathy swam in those beautiful irises, flashing with veins of otherworldly hues. “My brother-” he heard himself choke. “He’s um-” Loki cleared his throat, “-unwell.” “Unwell?” you repeated, frowning.

“Attacked.” Loki corrected, his brows slanting in an attempt to stop himself bursting into tears. “I’m sorry, it’s all been rather sudden.”

What happened next would come crashing back to Loki in the hours that followed in vivid technicolour. But for now all he felt was two hands twisting him gently, two arms sliding over his shoulders as he stood with his limbs limp to the side.

“Oh, Loki” you breathed near his ear as he stood wide-eyed and stunned. The skin of your cheek pressed against his own, your breasts snug to the thin fabric of his t-shirt. The comforting warmth of you seeped from your body to his. Loki could swear he could feel your heartbeat. How he wished it beat for him. “I’m sorry, I had no idea” you whispered apologetically, cupping the back of his head. “Do you want me to come with you?” Loki opened his mouth and closed it again. You were stroking his hair, now. Am I dead? Loki wondered, as the elevator dinged its arrival. Is this Valhalla?

He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the unruly beast in his sweatpants twitch to life. Curses, he chided. Your brother lies at deaths door. Now is not the time for foolishness of the heart. Or the loins.

The doors opened. “Come on,” you said before Loki had a chance to decline your request.

He was suddenly acutely aware that your hand was intertwined with his, leading him quickly through the corridors of the winding medical bay. You stopped at a window, your face perking as you turned to him. Loki watched your lips form a word which floated away before it materialised, instead opting to cup his cheeks with your hands. “All will be well,” you said, casting another quick glance inside the window. Loki steeled himself before doing the same.

His faced scrunched, seeing Thor sprawled on a tiny hospital bed. Three doctors busied themselves while Tony and Steve looked on in the midst of hushed conversation. Their concern was palpable. “He’s all I have,” Loki whispered as he looked on, feeling tears prick his eyes again. When he would recall this moment, he would be unsure if he said it out loud. You lowered your hands to his, giving them a squeeze. “Go to him,” you breathed. And Loki did. Steve and Tony looked up as he entered, giving him a consolatory nod and beckoning him over. Loki made his way in wide steps, ensuring that no wires or bleeping machines were disturbed. The three men looked at each other. Clearly, Loki thought, there are no answers. There was only one question on the god’s mind.

“Will he live?” Loki strained, looking over at his brother’s pathetic form. Stark snorted. “Muscles? Yah, he’ll live. Take more than a nasty knock on the head to get rid of that bozo.” In a flash Loki had grabbed the front of Tony’s t-shirt, twisting the chunk of fabric so tight he could hear the seams squeak. “Have a care how you speak about my brother, metal man” Loki hissed venomously, “or you shall occupy the bed next to him.” “Woah, woah..” Steve pushed them apart with all the care one would take with a wild stallion. “Emotions are high, let’s just stay together on this…”

“He’s said worse,” Tony grumbled, as Loki’s grip loosened. “I am his kin. I am allowed to say such things,” the god spat. “Now what do we know of this assassin? Apart from the fact they are unskilled at their craft.”

“Nice,” Tony grinned, making Steve roll his eyes. The captain began to pace in small circles as he spoke. “Not much. Fled the scene by the time the alarm was raised.” Loki frowned. “Who raised the alarm?” “Asgardian barbie over there,” Tony gestured. Thor groaned, turning slightly. “Crawled into the corridor on his hands and knees, concussion, yelling about being attacked in his room.” Loki folded his arms, eyes narrowed. “Is that all?” “A man,” Steve added. “That’s all. It’s all we’ve got so far – forensics are in there now.”

“Forensics,” Loki scoffed. “There is no need...any assassin who would dare come after my brother will be known to us. Let us go to source.”

While he spoke, Loki made his way to the bedside, shooing the doctor fiddling with Thor’s bandaged head.

“Dude he has concussion. Con-cus-sion,” Tony needled, shrugging sarcastically towards Steve. “Pretty sure they get concussions on Asgard too if you hit hard enough, right?” Loki ignored him. He manifested a stool, perching upon it and gently cupping his brother’s hand with his own.

“Brother?” he murmured. Thor’s eyelids fluttered.

“B-brother?” came the husky response.

Loki smiled broadly, his breaths quickening. “Brother!” he sighed, relieved, “I was worried I had…”

-lost you. Another time, perhaps; Loki thought.

He lowered closer to Thor, ensuring that no words could be misheard. “Can you describe the man who attacked you?” he said slowly, accounting for his brother’s lessened physical state and already questionable skills of interpretation.

Thor grumbled, his forehead creasing. “It was dark...the curtains...drawn. I…wasn’t ready-” “Yes, brother?” “-searching for my under-garments on the floor and turned and...there he was, crouched and suddenly he stood – tall...muscular in the darkness...- right in the corner...near the dressing room-”

“Go on,” Loki encouraged, squeezing Thor’s hand. “He had long hair, like yours...but lighter, I think-” “Right…” Loki said slowly, beginning to frown as his brother continued. “It all happened so quickly Loki, he was naked- I…”

“You’re doing well, brother- “the dark god said, patting his hand. A smirk had begun to curl at the corner of his lips. “I was caught off guard- tried to headbutt him, but...but I fear he struck me first-” Thor gestured weakly to his bandaged head, faint tinges of blood beginning to soak through. “Very good. Get some rest now.” Loki chirped, standing. “Although don’t let him fall asleep,” he announced to the doctors, who were regarding the dark-haired god with abject suspicion. “He can’t afford to lose any more brain function.”

“Well?” Steve motioned for Loki to come closer, “what exactly are we dealing with here? Does he remember anything?” His eyes were glossy with concern. Ready to kick some ass in spandex; retribution for his friend’s ordeal. “No,” Loki stated bluntly.

Tony rolled his eyes, “I told you.”

A wry chuckle crept from Loki’s throat, a solitary finger curling over his lips as he savoured the moment. “Forensics are there now, you say?” Steve nodded, “should be finishing up any moment.” Loki glanced at the clock, and then at the small window separating the room from the main corridor. You were gone. “They will find blood on my brother’s garishly large mirror,” he drawled mysteriously as he paced towards the door. He looked over his shoulder, noting the smirk beginning to twist Tony’s face while Steve watched him leave, aghast. “And now if you’ll excuse me, gentleman” Loki said, opening the door with a flourish, “I must try to catch someone at the elevators.”

Tags @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @maple-seed @lokischambermaid @eleniblue @evelyn-kingsley

[ivy-plays]

Hello!

Since you write for Helluva Boss, I thought I could request something for it! It's just that this one is pretty specific so you don't have to write if you don't want to! It was just a fun little idea I had while I was watching a movie.

I was wondering if I could request for 'Blitzø x Jessica Rabbit like S/O' romantic headcanons?

Hi!!! I'm so glad you sent In a request. I immediately got ideas as soon as I read your request! I hope you like it and have a good rest of your day/ night!.

Warnings: none really. If I missed any let me know

Paring: Blitzø x Jessica Rabbit! Reader.

Relationship: romantic

Okay so starting off with how the two of you would have met.

You would honestly probably work out of the lust ring mostly because they just seem to have a higher quantity of singers and performers that fit the vibe.

Anyway

The two of you meet during the events of the episode where moxie takes Millie to Ozzy's.

You were performing that night and Blitzø couldn't help but not look away from you as the stage lights hit your red sequence dress just right creating an effect that made it seem you were glowing. That coupled with your sultry singing voice the man was hooked deep.

Blitzø had caught your eye while you were on stage as you noticed a goitcia prince sitting across from him.

That peaked your Interest. And throughout the rest of your set you observed the imp rather closely,and you would be a liar if you were to say he wasn't good looking.

After you are done with your set and made your way off stage and towards the bar Blitzø had managed to slip away from Stolas and made his way over to the bar and over to you.

When he introduced himself you turned your head ever so slightly to look at him and a soft smile graced your ruby red lips.

The two of you talked for a while until your stage manager came over and called you back stage to prepare for your next set.

You wave off your Manager with a promise to follow behind shortly.

Turning back to Blitzø you gently cupped the side of his face and leaned in promising to see him again while secretly slipping a slip of paper with your number on it into his jacket pocket.

It would be a few weeks later that the two of you would meet in person again. The two of you had been talking over the phone during that time just getting to know each other,but tonight the both of you were free so you were taking the opportunity to meet up.

The two of you would meet at a nice ( but not fancy. Just not dirty and has a good health score) restaurant.

The night went well and the both of you had lots of fun and that would end up being how the two of you got together.

Now for the actual relationship

Blitzø would be very protective of you.

Not because he didn't think you were weak by any means, but just because you were pretty famous across hell .

Whenever you weren't busy with practices or performances you would spend your time at I.M.P. .

You got on pretty well with Millie the two of you finding plenty of things to talk about. Moxie didn't mind you either and actually would be extremely reluctant to believe that Blitzø had managed to get such a famous and beautiful person to date him.

And as for you and Loona we'll. Loona took a bit to warm up to you but after you actually got her to have a conversation with you she realized you weren't as bad as she thought. Epically after you told the young hellhound that if she wanted she could get her into most parties/ higher class places without a reservation.

Blitzø didn't initially tell Stolaz about your relationship ( though he did tell you about the arrangement he had with the prince and was surprised that you didn't really mind).

And with how attached Stolaz is to Blitzø sometimes it wasn't long before he found out that the two of you were together.

He was upset at first but ultimately just wanted Blitzø to be happy. Stolaz of course knew who you were and had seen a few of your performances before.

(it's up to you to decide whether or not y'all become a thruple. But since it's not in the request I won't specify.)

Over all your relationship would be pretty solid. You would shower him in love and affection and he did the same to you.

And you already know the bedroom life is 🤌(y'all probably had a threesome with Stolaz a few times. 👀 )

You would use your connections to help I.M.P if they ever needed Intel,and you would spread the word about their business around which brought in a lot of New clients.

With how often you performed at Ozzy's you had formed a close friendship with the king of lust and his jester boyfriend.

So when the giant blue chicken burst into Ozzy's with a worried expression on his face you quickly grew confused.

Ozzy went on to pick you up and rushed back out the doors and back to his palace, and while on the way he explained to you that Vizz and Blitzø had been kidnapped by Crimson and Striker.

(everything that happened in the episode happens and after Vizz returned to Ozzy, you and Stolaz left the palace and you ,as fast as you could, made your way back to your shared apartment.

When you saw Blitzø you immediately brought him into your arms and buried your face in his neck as a few stray tears slid down your face from the relief of him being safe and back home.

After Blitzø recovered from momentary shock he firmly wrapped his own arms around you , resting his head atop your head.

The two of you spent the rest of the night cuddled together.

I hoped you liked it! It got a little longer and a little more rambling than I meant it to lol. But it's my first time writing In a few months. So the word vomit is real .

[miam0re]

Hello! well i wanna ask u smth abt AFAB succubus reader that tease them and flirt with them but in the end they become a sobbing mess and has like uh womb tattoo that glows when shes real in heat and wanted to cum, with any chara thats fine (well and pantalone though 🤗🤗)

This was an interesting ask to write, i hope i could do the thirst some justice.

The Succubus's New Master | Pantalone

NSFW, fem!succubus!Reader, slight degradation, reader in heat

You had targeted another victim. Another poor soul for you to feed on and drain of their life source. Is it selfish and mean? Maybe, but hey, a succubus has to do what it has to to stay alive, even if it meant trapping men in their dreams, voiding them of control over their bodies and sucking their cocks till they cum and transfer their life source to you. A give and take if you will. Sexual pleasure for one's life.

You thought your 'relationship' with Pantalone would be the same. Him barely aware of your presence in his slumber while you stroke and stimulate his dick, making his unconscious body shiver and cum on your tongue. You thought you'd get him addicted to your touch, but every passing day you found yourself getting more and more eager to visit the harbinger in the dead of the night. It went on for weeks until one day, he lay awake in bed on your arrival, bare bodied with a cheshire grin on his face.

"Did you really think you could trick and manipulate me? You may be a mystical being but clearly you lack any basic intelligence."

You moaned at his condescending tone, bouncing on his cock like a hungry slut. You clawed at his toned abs when he pulled your hips flush against his, grinding his cock deeper into your sopping hole. You wanted more and more of him, wanting to be completely filled with him.

"Your scent is so delectable. Could it be that the succubus has gone into heat?"

His thumb grazed over the ink on your womb, curves and lines that pulsed every time his thick girth stirred your insides to mush. You hated to admit it, but he was having an effect on you that made your blood boil in rage, yet your pussy clenched around him, keeping him snug inside you. He choked a grunt every time you tightened around him, your floral smell waking up a demon of his own.

"If you refuse to speak, perhaps I should rouse some other sounds out of you. Should teach you to be more... appreciative of your new master."

He chuckled, fingers finding your swollen clit and attacking it with rapid strokes, stimulating it beyond even your capacity as a demon. He made you squeal and scream and want to cum... But he wouldn't allow it. Even if you begged and pulled your hair like a crazy person, raising your hips and dropping down to make his tip hit your spot, he wasn't going to let you cum that easy. Not even if he had spurted his milky essence into your body, inflating your cunt and womb tattoo... stretching it so sexily.

Once he calmed from his orgasm, he laid back with not a finger touching you. Only his dick still hard inside your cunt, hot body writhing to reach an orgasm. This is how you preyed on your victims isn't it? Using their slumber stricken lifeless beings to pleasure yourself.

"Go on. Bring yourself to orgasm using only my cock. Surely a sex demon such as yourself would have such skills."

Your desperate cries and sob pleased a sadist in him as he leaned against the pillows to watch the oh so powerful succubus turn to putty on his cock. Move faster, harder, whatever it takes to come to an orgasm... It will be the first of many he draws out of his new pet succubus;)

[chaoxfix]

tails + "how long do you think you could hide that" perhaps

The Sonic Boom really should have been warning enough. However, growing up around them meant that Tails had more or less tuned them out. Sonic coming and going at his own speed (Mach 2) was simply a fact of life. 

Plus, Station Square had always been pretty noisy. There could have been a thousand reasons that the sky suddenly shook. Especially since Extreme Gear had just crossed the speed of sound, and plenty of teenagers were using them more often despite them being restricted. (But like, who was going to catch them at that speed? Sonic? Even if the mayor asked him to, he’d just give them a high five.)

So no, Tails did not react. He’d learned to tune them out when working years ago; most of the time, he could even sleep through them.

Fatal error number one, really.

But Tails would never have expected Sonic to turn up here. 

After all, despite being gifted a New Station Square penthouse, Sonic never came here.

At best, it was a place for Sonic to store all the Sonic-The-Hedgehog-themed gag gifts his friends gave him over the years. 

(And yes, Tails is a little creeped out by the sheer amount of it, despite being the one to purchase at least a third of it. When he arrived at night, he’d tried keeping the lights off so he could pretend it wasn’t as decked out as it clearly was in the daytime, but the glow-in-the-dark shower curtain jump-scared him. His tails had stayed bushy for a full half-hour after. Ugh.)

Sonic hadn’t been able to get out of legally owning it, either. So despite still being a nomad in name and practice and worldview, Sonic T. Hedgehog officially had an apartment in New Station Square. Which meant to save face he would absolutely, never, under any circumstances, come here. 

And he especially wouldn’t come here looking for Tails. 

That’s what Tails thought, at least, until, a minute after the Sonic Boom, the door burst open. 

Tails, clad in an oversized Sonic Sez T-Shirt, blinks up at him. As embarrassing as the shirt is, he’s glad he’s wearing it, because what’s underneath is way worse. 

“Way to check in,” Sonic says, in lieu of hello. “‘Yeah, I definitely am going home after this,’” he mimics. “‘I’ll just be working on some software updates for Tailsblr, don’t worry, you can go check out the Spagonia ruins, I’ll be fine!’” 

“I don’t sound like that.” 

Sonic arches a brow. 

“I don’t!” Tails, embarrassed, scrunches his face up in a pursed-lip pout. It’s incredibly tough-looking, he knows. “What are you doing here, anyways?” 

Sonic glances around at the Sonic-themed apartment. “...Are you going to make me say it, or-”

“Never thought you’d call this ‘your’ apartment,” Tails mumbles. 

“Okay, point.” Sonic leans in the doorway, effectively blocking Tails’s only exit, unless he busts open a window. Which he doesn’t want to do. The Sonic-themed-stained glass would be almost impossible to duplicate, and Amy paid good money for that birthday… ‘gift’. “You gonna tell me what you’re doing here, though? And why you haven’t checked in with anyone?” 

Tails crosses his arms over his chest. He definitely doesn’t look petulant. Wincing ruins it, but he does his best to play it off, putting on an annoyed expression he’s not sure Sonic totally believes. “...no.” 

Sonic, predictably, eyes Tails. And the shirt he’s wearing. “I came all this way though?” he says, faux casually. “Nice digs, by the way.” 

“I figured it would be good camouflage.” 

“Hiding from me got that serious, huh?” 

What is there to say to that, exactly? Tails huffs, but ruins it with the way he toes his foot against the ground. Unsocked, because his usual ones are washing – and he couldn’t, surprisingly, find any Sonic-themed socks among the mess. He could’ve found slippers, but his paws were big enough as it was. 

Sonic, as always, takes it upon himself to fix it. He steps closer, unsubtly poking around him trying to find an injury. 

Tails turns away, trying to avoid Sonic getting too close, but it’s a losing battle with a decisive defeat when he winces again. Sonic sees it, because of course he does, and capitalizes on it immediately. 

“We really have to do this the hard way?” 

It sounds almost petulant. Tails huffs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about-” 

“It can’t possibly be more embarrassing than hiding here of all places.” 

“Who said it was embarrassing?” 

“Then you’ve got to give me an explanation, because otherwise that’s what I’m going with, bud.” Sonic intentionally challenges him, maybe knows deep down that it’s something else. When Tails doesn’t offer an explanation though, Sonic just sighs. “Alright, guess I’m just gonna assume you’re hiding out here licking your wounds…”

Tails grimaces. There’s no putting it off or getting out of it, is there?

With a sigh, Tails finally stops squirming away, though his tails continue to swish in annoyance. But the battle is over, and he knows he’s lost. So with a grand, over-dramatic sigh, he lifts the shirt, which loosely conceals bandages, and more importantly, a back brace. 

“I have to wear it for another week,” he grumbles, lowering the shirt back down, because an oversized Sonic Sez Stay In School! shirt (...did they even ask Sonic before they made that slogan?) is way less embarrassing than the medical brace. “More, in theory, but by then I’ll be mobile enough to make myself a cool exoskeleton so I can go back to helping.” 

Sonic raises both brows. “I, uh,” he starts, looking for a moment at a loss for words. He stares. 

Tails decides to cut him a break. “I’ve been using the sketch pads here to draft out all the important parts of the exoskeleton,” he continues, “And honestly, I’ll probably keep using it for a while after this heals, because it’ll be useful for heavy artillery. Similar to what I used around the time we met Shadow, just with actual support, because it was pretty uncomfortable-”

“Okay, that’s great, but, I fail to see why you’d… hide that?”

Tails’s whiskers twitch. “It’s hard to move. Meaning I can’t help with anything going on.” 

“Yeah? And that sucks, but it’s not– you should’ve told me.” How long did you think you could hide that, anyways? It's not a big deal, not to be on missions, but- I mean, there's more than matters than just that."

“It's not a big deal, injuries just suck,” Tails cuts in, cutting Sonic off from any other unnecessary worry, or so he hopes. Sonic stares at him blankly. “Besides, you would’ve felt like you needed to check in a ton, and you- you’ve been itching to go and do things again. And it’s important to stop Eggman’s newer plans. I’d just have slowed you down.” 

“Slowed me down.” Sonic tilts his head to the side. “I guess, from a certain kind of view, I could maybe, sort of, see that logic.” Tails almost feels relieved, before Sonic adds, “You know, if I was heartless. Which you know I’m not. So I'm serious, please tell me it's something else.” 

Tails squirms under the scrutiny. He shrinks in on himself, crossing his arms tightly over himself despite the ache it causes. All the while, Sonic is still looking him over, puzzling it through. Letting Tails’s silence and inability to refute that speak for itself. 

Tails sees the exact moment Sonic notices. He cringes. This was exactly what he was hoping to avoid. 

Because the thing is, Sonic always hid away when he was injured or sick or dealing with too much. Sonic was all about the power of friendship, sure – but that was for Eggman. When it came to interpersonal problems, or god forbid physical weakness, Sonic was suddenly a cool loner. He’d always make some offhand comment about seeing a part of the world he hadn’t seen before (a dwindling number every day) and then they wouldn’t see him again for days, weeks, or months. 

And, well. 

It wouldn’t be the worst trait to pick up on. The whole world agreed that Sonic was a cool role model – the whole apartment around him agreed! Why would he be a bad role model here, too?

And if Tails was ever going to be a hero in his own right, too, well… Shouldn’t he learn to take care of himself? 

“Ah,” Sonic says, eloquently. He opens his mouth, presumably for a speech, and comes up short again. He shifts a hand to his chin, clearly thinking hard. 

“I think I smell something burning,” Tails says. 

“Does no one trust me to do speeches anymore?” 

“I honestly think you’ve gotten worse.”

Sonic levels a half-hearted glare, but the tug at the corner of his mouth tells Tails he’s not actually offended. Sonic reaches for his bangs, half-heartedly ruffles them. “Yeah. That’s why I’m trying to take my time and think this one through.”

Tails doesn’t duck away from the affection. But he can’t help but shrink into himself, just a little. Not in a bad way – but he hasn’t felt shy in ages. He feels like a kid again, which is exactly what he was trying to avoid. 

Sonic must pick up on it, because he frowns a little. Then, punches Tails’s shoulder, light enough not to jostle his back. “Growing up doesn’t mean not leaning on your friends anymore,” he finally says. “We’ll always be around. You know that, right?” 

Tails has a lot he could say to that – about being around. 

He wisely keeps his mouth shut. 

Sonic reads into it, sighs despite himself. Of course Tails should’ve guessed it was written on his face. They’d managed years without words. “Okay, yeah, but that’s an extreme circumstance – and you could’ve… should’ve had our friends around,” he says. “If I had actually kicked the bucket – that’s what I would’ve wanted. Our friends looking out for you.” 

The unfairness of it all burns. “It's not an extreme circumstance when you already almost died again.” 

Sonic rakes a hand back through his quills. “I really have gotten worse at speeches,” he mutters. “I don’t know. I’ve always been like this, though, keeping... issues to myself – but you haven’t.” 

On account of being four years old, Tails chooses not to point out. 

“Yes, okay, don’t look at me like that, I know you were a kid and kids need help and that’s okay! Good, even! But I always thought it was nice you didn’t get mad when I did stuff for you, even when you got older.” 

Tails scuffs his goes against the floor again. “Because you like doing nice things for other people.” 

“Sure,” Sonic agrees. “But it’s not like… -I always chose to look after you. Could’ve stopped whenever. Vanilla offered, sometimes. But I didn’t even let Knuckles babysit you unless it was like, an emergency-emergency.” 

Tails’s face feels hot at the mere idea of being babysat at all. Impossible standards, he knows, for being four. 

“I didn’t think you even minded being looked after, since we were always friends, not just… you know.” The word that doesn’t exist, Tails thinks, for their exact kinship. Siblings is closest, but there’s both more and less there, that the word doesn’t always fit. It's a puzzle piece that only mostly matches. “But then you were getting so good at things that had nothing to do with anything I taught you. Doing your own thing, being your own you,” Sonic continues. “...I guess I just never thought you’d take after me so much. I'm surprised, that's all.” 

Tails ducks his head. The shirt is in his field of vision though, and it strikes him as the most absurd thing about all of this. Having a heart-to-heart, after all these years, in a room absolutely suffocated in Sonic merchandise. 

Tails clearly isn’t the only one with a hero worship problem. The whole world seems to agree that Sonic's a role model. 

He can’t quite find the words to say, ‘How could I have possibly taken after everyone else?’ 

“You’re giving yourself a lot of credit,” Tails says, managing a small smile, despite everything. “...Deserved credit, but still.” 

He jerks a thumb over his shoulder, where he knows a gigantic Sonic head plush (six feet tall and just as wide) is looming. A gift from Vector. 

“Saying I’ve got a big head?”

“I think they actually made it to scale,” Tails says with a grin. “But the important thing is… You don't need to think it's all you. You said it yourself, that I have all my own good traits. So I can’t let you act all guilty for my bad traits. Maybe I would’ve been like this anyways, who knows. But you don’t need to take credit, okay?” 

Sonic blinks at him. 

“I’m growing up. And maybe I didn’t need to hide away, or at least I could’ve told you where I was going,” Tails acknowledges. “But those are my mistakes to make. Okay? Not your responsibility.” 

Sonic still looks surprised. But he seems to chew on that, still deciding whether or not to agree. 

But Tails is older now. About as old as Sonic was when he set out against Eggman. 

It’s only fair to give him a little leeway, right?

So Sonic finally nods, still looking contemplative. “Just remember you’re not on your own,” he says. “You’ve got your own thing to figure out – I respect that. But I don’t want you to forget that we’re here because we actually care. What I was saying earlier… the thing is, we’re your friends. It’s not babysitting or looking after you anymore. Even then, we liked you and wanted you around. But now? You’re with us because you’ve got skills, and we want you there. I want you there. So remember that, okay?” 

Tails’s chest feels warm. Pride, he thinks. The pride of knowing he’s made Sonic proud. 

“Okay,” he says, feeling a little more confident. 

Sonic smiles, lopsided. The same smile on most of the trademarked merchandise around them. 

It’s such a perfect match for the poster behind him that Tails has to suppress a laugh. 

“What?” Sonic asks, turning to follow Tails’s eyes. “What’s- Oh, very funny. I can't help that that's my good side. I'm not even doing the thumbs up!” 

Tails grins, but there’s no malice behind it. “Thanks for coming here to check on me,” he says sincerely. “I’m okay though, just sorry for worrying you.” 

Sonic ruffles his bangs again. “You’re never going to have to be sorry for worrying me,” he promises. “I’d miss it too much if I stopped.” 

An hour ago, Tails would’ve felt worse, hearing that. But it doesn’t sting. Sonic can both worry about him, and know that he’s growing up and can make his own choices. 

“C’mon,” Sonic says, officially ending the heart-to-heart. “I put some sonic-shaped cereal in here the other day when I saw it in a store. Five rings says it turns my tongue blue?” 

“You’re on,” Tails agrees, knowing it’s a losing bet.

[tabithatwo]

hi hello thinking about how neither lottie or taissa is advocating for their sight or championing themselves.

lottie quietly doing the best she can to lean into what she hopes is real to give the others protection and faith, yes! but it isn’t I CAN LEAD YOU (especially this season) it’s I can quietly do the things that can’t hurt, in case they help. it can’t hurt to prick my finger and they’ve come back safe so far and I’m aware of my mental health I’m OH so aware and I know the dangers of delusions being proven correct by happenstance by setting up an infallible cause and effect by building my own reality BUT but. it’s just a prick and it’s just a sip and if I don’t do it now and they don’t come back safe then I AM the reason. it can’t hurt IT CAN’T HURT.

but see, now she’s stuck. she’s wedged into this place of having followers and she can’t tell them how she feels, partly because she isn’t even sure how she feels to begin with because nothing is real and everything is far too real!! (because BECAUSE lottielee jackieshauna parallels and so much post laura lee was not in our view, we didn’t fall as deep deep deep into the rabbit hole with lottie as we did with shauna, but this season has confirmed it for us. lottie and shauna both lost reality when they lost Them and they were both already girls with a loose grip of reality to begin with) so it’s That, but it’s also because she isn’t Lottie The Girl From New Jersey Who Shoplifts, she’s not herself, she’s what they make of her. she’s Lottie The Reason We Will Survive This.

she was on the other side of this dynamic, she felt that anger at jackie, she felt that sense of betrayal, she felt that letdown, that rebellion in her heart. because jackie wasn’t serving them the way they wanted needed craved being served. jackie couldn’t be that person. jackie who had been divisive in her leadership before they even crashed, because what is leadership if not a spotlight that people can adjust to make you glow like something ethereal or to point out all your flaws with great illumination? jackie had larger than life expectations put on her (and they were warm and sunny and positive some of the time yes, but that all curdles when it’s left in the spotlight too long.)

so suddenly lottie is divisive. there are teams around her and against her and myth built up, but the myth isn’t that she’s the bratty unhelping girl who gets whatever she wants like it became for jackie, the myth is she is our only hope. she is our savior and salvation and seer. and she doesn’t need to even say anything to make that so. jackie didn’t need to say anything to make them color her selfish (other, but bad). lottie doesn’t need to say anything to make them color her anointed (other, but good). she is girl vessel, girl hopes, girl dreams, a witch hunt where she Better Be A Witch.

doomcoming lottie snapped. she was On drugs and she was Off drugs and she was tired and she gave them something to cling to that they could shape into more with the seeds of the past (bear and blood and you get the picture) that they’d already been trying to plant in her image. (jackie did the same that night. she snapped, she yelled, she gave them something to cling to that they could shape into more with the seeds of the past that they’d already been trying to plant in her image, do you SEE??)

and of COURSE natalie understands both lottie and jackie. of course she knows what it’s like to be doing nothing but your best, to not want the responsibility, to be seen more as liability than asset, even though the only reason you can fail so hard is because you provide so much. before the crash and after, because girl carrying the weight of family secrets and girl who bears their insecurities and girl who SEES that they are insecure so she cannot even bring herself to be ANGRY with them and girl who hunts. girl who hunts and feeds, but now who hikes and disappoints, because there is no game to bring home, but that can only be Her Failure because it is Her Contribution, do you hear me are you with me??

so natalie walks for miles and she eulogizes jackie and she steps out of her reward her one small comfort and she makes sure that lottie sinks into the hot water and she apologizes, she apologizes, she apologizes. because maybe she’s mad, maybe she says it isn’t fair in the heat of the moment, but at the end of the day she knows who she is and what she is and all that they’ve made her and she carries that responsibility. (like jackie the girl she wasn’t home to save and lottie the girl she doesn’t know how to reach. it’s too late for them, there are no words to undo it. jackie was sealed when she made captain and natalie was sealed when she pulled the trigger and lottie was sealed when she warned van.)

and taissa finally TAISSA. she has hidden her secret. little girl looking in the mirror and seeing something that shouldn’t be there and older girl who is hearing things that she shouldn’t hear and leading people places she shouldn’t be able to lead them to. she doesn’t want it and she’s made it the Most Known of them all. don’t tell lottie, don’t tell the others, don’t bring it up. and van who champions her so naturally, so routinely, so lovingly for all the normal things. van who believes in the supernatural. van who has simply refused to die. van can’t hold it in anymore, because taissa’s sight Brought Back Javi. but tai doesn’t want her to mention it to the others. tai is perceptive and tai understands power struggles and she’s tired and hates this part of herself and she’s scared and she’s logical and she doesn’t want to Be Lottie (not lottie the girl from New Jersey who shoplifts, but lottie who better be a witch).

so maybe I’m seeing things myself, maybe I’m reading too deep, but here’s what I saw in old wounds.

lottie, who sits quietly while the others discuss her prophecy. lottie, who seems to have developed an openness to a different view of jackie in her death, because she was girl there and now she’s girl gone and she served them again in death and maybe lottie didn’t quite have the right idea of her and maybe lottie is in her seat now, in a way. lottie, who wanders into the snow without ever really agreeing because it was never really a choice, and cuts her hand because it can’t hurt IT CANT HURT.

natalie, who signed up to hunt when it was spring and warm and possible, who knows that it will be hers always and forever now. natalie, who will always be the reason they are starving, more than the reason they are fed. natalie, who is jealous of the girl who is bone, because she was allowed death. natalie, who has sympathy for all of them and knows that lottie has been made her rival through the mechanisms of group projection than her own volition. so she bathes her and tends to her and apologizes to her.

taissa, who has always been a leader and always been under scrutiny but did so in a way She Could Control. taissa, whose deepest secrets are being unfolded before her eyes because she can’t stop herself from divulging them when she is unconscious. taissa, who might start to think that maybe lottie didn’t ask for this.

so jackie is bone, and natalie is hunter, and lottie is seer, and taissa might be even more so. natalie alone in the realm of the mundane (for this), but aware of them all, so I’ll set her aside for a moment.

jackie accidentally opened the door to this spiritualism. she was the seance and doomcoming (and the first communion), but she didn’t mean for it to be that. she meant to cheer them up.

lottie thought that jackie had it wrong, thought that she didn’t use her position to protect the girls, because she refused to work with the woods and lottie tries to save them and protect them and negotiate with the wilderness for them.

taissa thinks that lottie has it wrong, because she feeds into their delusions and her power is a runaway train in this setting and taissa wants to keep them alive in the best way. the practical way. except that logical leadership never led to anything out here and her other self, her spiritual self, found javi after months.

pedestals and wrecking balls and clearer views once you’re hoisted up with the girls on them. girls who are not Them but who are What Others Say. shauna dictating jackie and mari dictating lottie and van dictating taissa and everyone dictating natalie. everyone meaning the best and riding the high of delivering it, until it’s cut out from beneath them. you don’t go from great to fine. the mighty don’t fall to land on a straw bed with the rest of them, thanks for trying and welcome back. they are Icarus and their love for the others is flight and their belief that They Can Do It Better is the sun and the sun burns. in death or in life or in dreams.

and maybe in old wounds lottie understood jackie a little more and taissa understood lottie a little more and nat, who has always been able to understand them all, can watch and wait and hope that it changes things. but it won’t. because they aren’t driving their own stories anymore.

so they’ll hunt and they’ll bleed and they’ll walk in their sleep and, no matter what they say or don’t say, the others will fill in the gaps.