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

[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.

[mintyys-blog]

Hello!!♥️ I really enjoyed all other invincible stories and writing for each mark i find em such a spot on. I was wondering if it would alright to request invincible (any mark) with reader having powers like Danny phantom? :0 i thought it could be cool idea in invincible world to have someoke with supernatural powers as in like ghost powers and stuff in way and would be useful when the power of possessing bodies comes in play and be helpful too? lol imagine reader spooking mark once a while ptff

MY BOO | mark grayson x danny phantom! reader

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST | WARNINGS:

You’ve made it your life’s mission to scare the absolute hell out of Mark at least once a week. Whether it’s floating above his bed while he’s mid-sleep, your glowing eyes flickering in the dark like some demonic entity, or phasing through the wall with a blood-curdling whisper, it never gets old. The way he jumps, fists ready, eyes wide—it’s a masterpiece every time. And while he plays it off like he’s “used to it,” the haunted look in his eyes says otherwise.

There was one particular morning you phased through the ceiling right as he stepped out of the shower. He screamed and almost flew through the damn wall. “You can’t keep doing that!” he shouted, wrapping a towel around himself while still trying to act tough. You just floated upside down, smirking, saying, “If you didn’t look so cute when scared, maybe I’d stop.” He blushed. You called that a win.

When it comes to fighting, though, you’re a dream teammate. Mark’s all power and speed, but your ghost powers make you unpredictable. He flies in with brute force, and you phase through the ground, possess a villain’s body, and start using them as a puppet. Once, during a mission, you made a mercenary punch himself in the face so hard he knocked out cold. Mark stared, jaw slack. “Did you just—” “Yeah. Possessed him. Also made him twerk a little before I left. Hope that’s okay.” He couldn’t stop laughing… until you told him the next person you planned on possessing was him.

He didn’t take it seriously until one day you actually did. It was a light possession, nothing permanent—just enough to feel what flying felt like from his perspective. He freaked out the moment he felt his body moving without input. “Babe, this is NOT funny—oh my god why am I doing flips?! STOP DOING FLIPS.” You eventually let go and floated beside him, smug as hell. “So this is what it’s like to have pecs. Wild.”

You have a habit of turning invisible when you’re mad. Mid-argument, Mark would blink and realize you’ve vanished into thin air. “Seriously? You ghosted me? LITERALLY?” he’d yell, arms thrown up. You’d pop back in through the floor, say something dramatic like, “I rise from the dead… only to hear more of your bullshit,” and disappear again. It was infuriatingly effective.

Late nights were the worst for him. You’d wait until he’s half-asleep, then whisper his name like some haunted movie villain. “Maaaark…” and he’d jolt awake, looking around like he’s in a horror film. “You’re gonna give me a heart attack,” he mumbles, face buried in the pillow. “That’s the point,” you reply sweetly, curling up beside him.

Mark actually loves the deep parts of your powers too—the way you can feel shifts in the spiritual world, how your ghost sense picks up emotions, memories, and even lost souls. It’s not just creepy—it’s beautiful. You bring perspective to his strength, make him think about more than just punching the bad guy. He loves listening to you talk about the strange energy of being stuck between two worlds—living, but not completely. You once told him, “You were born to destroy planets. I was born already half-dead. We both carry things we didn’t ask for.” He kissed you so hard that night, holding you like you were the most real thing in the universe.

People definitely fear you more than him sometimes. You don’t just knock people out—you break them down psychologically, force them to confront guilt, possess their bodies and make them apologize to their teammates before walking off in your glowing form. Mark’s tried to act like the more intimidating one, but even he knows—when villains see you, they run.

He has a collection of ghost puns for you. “Boo-thang,” “my spooky girl,” “hauntie,” and even “Casper, but hot.” You pretend to hate it, but you secretly live for it.

And when he talks about the future, about maybe having a home or kids one day, he always says, “Would they be half-Viltrumite, half-ghost? Because that sounds terrifying, and I’m into it.” You grin, saying, “They’d be invisible until they want juice. Then they’d phase through the fridge.” Mark laughs but lowkey hopes it really happens.

You’re his chaos. His phantom menace. His mischievous, glowy-eyed, haunting little piece of home. And even if he never quite gets used to you floating through walls or making the TV talk back to him, he knows one thing for certain—life has never been more fun, more weird, or more perfect.

[sunday-bug]

Happy Accident

Pairing: Congressman Bucky x pregnant!girlfriend reader

These can be read as oneshots, but if you want to read in order, check out below ⬇️

Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four

Word count: 1k

Content: fluff, surprise pregnancy, brief mentions of sex, implied sex

🩷

Synopsis: You both thought this couldn’t happen. Bucky’s girlfriend tells him the big news.

Enjoy! I’d be happy to write more of this little storyline.

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

You look at the two pink lines staring up at you from the counter and feel your breath catch. There’s no way. Bucky said the serum took away any chance of him ever having children. You pull another test from the bottom drawer and dip it into the cup, setting it to the side and watching the liquid crawl up the test strip. One line, then another unmistakable line. Fuck. Fuck? You took your birth control pills religiously. Your period was sometimes irregular, but you just chalked it up to stress or hormones. Bucky’s campaign was relentless and stressful, so you guessed that was why you were late this time. After eight days you figured you should take a test to calm your racing mind. Pregnant? When? How? Oh…

Bucky’s birthday. March 10th. That was a wild night. You made sure he took the night off to celebrate with Sam and Joaquin. And you. Especially you. Bucky wasn’t one to get drunk or even tipsy very easily, but that night you both had one too many celebratory drinks. One thing led to another, and things got really hot and heavy. You normally didn’t use protection because of Bucky’s notion that he couldn’t have kids and your birth control use. You knew birth control could fail, but you never gave it much thought because of his certainty about the serum’s adverse effects. Yet here you were… almost 6 weeks pregnant if your calculations were correct.

Bucky would be home any minute. You’d left work early because you didn’t feel well, and now you knew why. How were you going to tell him? He’d worked so hard on his campaign and had enough on his plate. You look at the calendar on your phone and thank God it isn’t April Fools’ Day anymore - not the best time to tell your boyfriend you’re pregnant with his baby. You splash some water on your flushed face and try your best to calm your breathing. You can’t keep this from him and know you have to tell him when he gets home. Your hand makes its way down to your lower abdomen and rests there. A small smile spreads across your lips along with a few stray tears. Bucky’s baby.

You hear the key in the front door unlock and head out to meet him. His warm smile greets you, and you immediately fall into his open arms. So safe. Your favorite place.

“Hello, love,” he whispers into your hair. “How are you feeling?” You’d texted him earlier to let him know you were going home early because you didn’t feel good. He takes your face into his hands, looking for signs of illness in your expression. If only he knew.

“Oh, I’m okay,” you reassure him. “Just a little tired.” You kiss his lips and take his work bag, placing it on the hook by the door.

“Thanks, baby,” he says through your kiss. He breaks it off and looks at you again, really assessing your face. “Are you sure everything is okay? You seem off. Have you been crying?” His flesh hand traces a finger down your cheek where a trail from a tear etched its way through your makeup. “Did something happen at work?”

“No,” you sigh, meeting his steely blue gaze.

He says your name warily. “What is it?”

You take him by the hand to the plush couch and sink into the corner cushion. He sits on the cushion next to you, inviting you to put your legs in his lap. He runs his fingers down your calves, giving you goosebumps. “I know you don’t feel good, but you look gorgeous,” he offers with a cheeky grin. “You have a glow about you.”

You can’t help but let out a cackle at his affectionate comment. Right on target, soldier. Bucky looks at you with a puzzled expression. You take a deep breath and grab his flesh hand in both of yours.

“I’m pregnant, Bucky,” you say quietly, not breaking your gaze from his.

His left eyebrow twitches ever so slightly. “You’re… pregnant?”

“Yes, I took two tests today. They’re in the bathroom if you want to see.”

“No, no, I believe you. I just… I didn’t think I could…” You watch as he processes and reaches for words that aren’t there. He breaks your gaze and you see his eyes turn glassy.

“Bucky? Are you okay?” You move toward him. “Are you mad?”

Your last question brings him back to the present, “Mad? Darling, why would I be mad?”

“Well, we’ve never talked about, ya know, kids because we’ve never had to,” you gesture to Bucky and the unsaid serum.

“I guess they were wrong about the side effects.” He let out a little laugh, “This happened on the night of my birthday, didn’t it?”

“Oh, totally,” you giggle, reminiscing together.

“I guess the serum enhanced everything.”

“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES!” You shout with a blush.

“I’m going to be a dad,” he whispers with a smile.

“That’s usually how this works,” you joke.

“C’mere,” he says, pulling you into his lap. “How are you feeling about this? Really? You can tell me anything.”

“I’m kind of scared,” you admit. “But also excited. Are you worried about what people will think?”

“Why would I be worried?” Bucky asks, brushing your hair behind your ears.

“You’re a Congressman. We’re not married. I dunno, it seems so unconventional…” you trail off.

“I’m an ex-assassin with a vibranium arm that somehow got elected to Congress. I think if people can handle that, then they can handle my beautiful, smart, incredible girlfriend having my baby.” He kisses your nose, and the reassurance makes you melt into him. You kiss him with an open mouth and he reciprocates generously, hands trailing up your shorts.

“I can’t wait to see you growing with my baby,” he growls into your ear. Oh? Oh. Those pregnancy hormones are no joke.

“Mmm, wanna celebrate?” You moan.

“God, yes,” Bucky replies, loosening his tie before picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom.

💗

-the end-

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated if you liked this story :]

Check out part two here.

[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/Tags: 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’ll 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!

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI.

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

[veilsofroses]

Hello. Can I request a fluff about Uryu waking up with female reader for breakfast? Thanks.

Uryu Ishida x f!reader

warnings: none, just fluff <3 author’s note: thank you for your request! i did not expect to write this much but i enjoyed writing what goes on in my boy uryu’s head. i hope you enjoy! word count: 932

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ♰

Uryu Ishida is always the first to wake up. Once he stirs and his eyes are open, he sits up and reaches over to the nightstand to put on his glasses. He’s the type of man to get his day started bright and early and getting out of bed is never difficult for him.

Just as he’s about to scoot off the bed, he throws a glance to your side of the bed, something he always does to make sure you’re still asleep, but this time… something made him stop. He’s used to seeing you in the morning, your bedhead hair around your face, mouth slightly parted, sometimes even some drool. But this morning, sunlight entered through the slits of your curtains, hitting your face perfectly.

Uryu found himself slowly laying back down, propping up his elbow to lean on his hand. He could only describe what he was seeing as angelic. The sunlight hitting your face made your soft features glow. He scans your face like you’re a marble sculpture waiting to be studied.

He noticed the steady rhythm of your breathing. Barely audible but calm.

This made one word ring out through his mind.

Safe.

This realization made time freeze. He still stared at your face but unwelcome thoughts rushed through his mind.

There was so much vulnerability and danger in loving you. He couldn’t imagine what he’d do if anything were to ever happen to you. He never intended to let someone in so close. He never meant to consider Ichigo and the others as friends, much less allow you to sneak into his heart.

The sunlight hitting your face starts to make you stir and you finally open your eyes. It takes a moment to adjust to the brightness but when you do, Uryu’s face is the first thing that takes up your vision.

It was rare to wake up to him, being the ever-so-productive man he is. You realize he hasn’t noticed you’ve woken up, like he’s in a trance while staring at you.

“Morning,” you say in a sweet voice, smiling.

This was enough to break him out of his trance because his eyes readjusted and widened when he saw you looking.

“Uh- good morning,” he says somewhat awkwardly, a subtle pink tint to his cheeks.

You giggle. It’s not hard to fluster Uryu per se but you almost never get to see his reaction so close up.

“What were you staring at?” you tease, taking advantage of the moment.

Seems you got too spoiled because he turns away, adjusting his glasses, “I wasn’t staring at anything,” he says flatly.

You giggle again, typical Uryu.

You scoot off the bed, effectively getting out of bed before him for the first time in a long time.

He watches you closely. Uryu isn’t much of a talker but today he’s awfully quiet.

You break the silence, walking over to his side of the bed. “I’ll make us breakfast, it’s been a while since you had a relaxing morning in. You deserve it.”

He sits up, his legs over the edge of the bed. You stand in between them and he puts a soft hand on your waist.

“I’m perfectly capable of doing it, I don’t need a relaxing morning,” he grumbles.

You roll your eyes, you shouldn’t expect anything less from his stubborn ass. “I know you don’t, but I want to do this for you anyway,” you wrap your hands around his bare shoulders, “please?”

He looks at you with wide eyes, that pink tint coming back to his cheeks. Seems you finally broke him. “Fine,” he mumbles.

You smile brightly and kiss his cheek, running away towards the kitchen, “I’ll come back once it’s ready!” you call out.

It had been a while since you made breakfast but you still knew how to cook so getting into the groove wasn’t hard. You half expected Uryu to get up and start helping you regardless of your complaining but you were happy he stayed in bed.

You couldn’t help but remember the look he stared at you with in bed. Love and adoration were in his eyes but also… worry. You knew better than to push or ask for an explanation. His pride wouldn’t allow him to say anything unless he specifically chose to.

So you decide to wait and see if he wants to open up. Doesn’t mean you can’t try to make him feel better in any way you can.

Once breakfast is finally ready, you head back into your shared room. You find him changed out of his pajamas and into his clothes for the day.

“Breakfast is ready,” you say walking in.

He nods. You can see his eyes hold a heaviness to them. Once he’s fully dressed, you grab his hand to lead him to the kitchen. He’s about to make a remark about knowing where the kitchen is but before he can, you catch his lips in yours in a quick and soft kiss.

“I can’t wait to spend every morning with you like this,” you say looking at him like he hung the moon in the sky.

He stays still, eyes wide with surprise, before you see a shift in them.

He places his hand on your cheek, leading your face back to his in a devastatingly tender kiss. His soft lips linger, unsure whether if he pulls away, you’ll disappear.

Once you finally do pull away, his blue eyes are back to their usual calculated sharpness. He smirks, “let’s see if that breakfast you made is edible.”

There he is.

[jiguurten]

hello! How are you? Having a good one? do you have any thoughts on an outsiders perspective of the angels, or, more specifically, Castiel? Maybe what it’s like to see them (vessels or not) or what kind of “uncanny valley” effects they might have? Thank you for your art btw! It’s so fantastic to look through over and over.

Hello! Stressing over my thesis but otherwise fine!

So. Angels. Uncanny things about them.

(Disclaimer: this is not canon. This is my own SPN universe. I’m cherry-picking what I like and expanding.)

.

Angels don’t know their limit. Their own or their vessel’s. They’re ‘fulfill the mission or die trying’ kind of creatures. So they don’t bother putting a brake on things. Or even have one in the first place.

Castiel used to push his vessel past its breaking point when Jimmy was gone. He had to learn his limits once his grace got put through multiple wringers and started dwindling. Nearly died a few times.

(I have this image. A scenario. Of Castiel lying dead, surrounded by dozens of demon corpses, his wings burned to the ground.

And Dean, feeling sick, turning over Castiel’s body again and again, looking for the wound that killed him. Not realizing that Castiel died using up the last of his grace and then some.

His corpse is perfectly pristine. Just empty of anything that's needed to sustain life, angelic or otherwise.)

.

Electronics go nuts. Anything running on electricity. Plus anything transmitting/receiving signals.

You invite in an angel with a decent enough grace reach and something will turn on. Even though that something hasn’t been on for years. Or connected to anything.

Imagine an old radio without batteries playing music.

And imagine—a man in a trench coat, in the middle of nowhere, standing in a payphone booth that’s been out of order for a decade. You think he’s just trying out the buttons but then you hear the dial tone. You see the lights of the booth flicker and turn on. It wasn’t connected to anything. You know this. You’ve been playing in that booth your entire childhood. You cut out the wires yourself. You know this—

Castiel’s number is gibberish when he does this. Dean was surprised the first time ‘€��£|??<%]€? is calling you’ showed up on his phone screen, but he got used to it. Started looking forward to it.

.

Lights and shadows.

Lights get really weird around angels. They reflect even though they shouldn’t. Shine a little too bright, a little too sharp, too colorful.

If you take a photo of an angel, you have to use your camera’s darkest filter. Otherwise you get photos like this.

As for shadows—angels cast lighter shadows.

Once, Dean compared his and Castiel’s shadows while waiting for Sam. They were under the same bright light, it was dark out. Dean’s shadow was nearly black. But Castiel’s was lighter. Like he was a little more transparent than Dean even though they were both flesh.

.

Eyes. Glowing eyes.

Turn around too quick and catch a glimpse of something like this.

.

Their behavior. So this one depends!

Some angels are well socialized. Some don’t bother mimicking humans. This might not seem like a big deal until you’re sitting next to someone and realize they haven’t blinked in, like, an hour.

Castiel had to learn to fake a lot of things. Like breathing differently.

There’s a story on reddit, told by a hiker that went something like:

It looked like a man. It even spoke like a man. But it wasn’t a man, I swear…

…We were going uphill. We were walking for hours. I was sweating, I was panting, I was trying to get the fuck away from this thing that kept. Going. At the same pace. With the same steady breathing, the same cool skin. It didn’t tire, it never did, it could have probably walked to the end of earth...

…I feel like shit for saying this but I’m glad it chose someone else to follow. The man in the impala, whoever you are, I hope you’re alive.

[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.

[goddessinnerglow]

Become Your Best Version Before 2025 - Day 21

Overcoming Fear & Self-Doubt

Hello Goddesses! After exploring confidence-building yesterday, it feels natural to talk about something we all face but often keep hidden, those annoying fears and self-doubts that can hold us back. You know those moments when you really want to do something, but that inner voice starts listing all the reasons why you shouldn't?

Let's get real about this, everyone, even the people who seem to have it all figured out, deals with fear and self-doubt. The difference isn't in not having these feelings; it's in how we work with them.

Think of fear and self-doubt like clouds passing through the sky. They might block the sun temporarily, but they're not permanent. The sun: your potential, your dreams, your capabilities, is always there behind them.

Here's how to start moving forward, even when those doubts feel heavy:

The "Name It to Tame It" approach is incredibly powerful. When you catch yourself in a spiral of doubt, pause and name exactly what you're afraid of. Sometimes just saying "I'm afraid of failing" or "I'm doubting my abilities" can take away some of its power. It's like turning on the light and realizing the shadow wasn't as scary as it seemed.

Try this simple but effective technique: When self-doubt creeps in, ask yourself, "What would I tell my best friend if they were in this situation?" We're often much kinder and wiser when advising others than when talking to ourselves.

Remember the confidence-building steps we discussed yesterday? Here's where they become your secret weapon. Each small win, each tiny step forward, becomes evidence that you can handle more than your fears suggest.

A game-changing practice is keeping a "Fear vs. Reality" journal. When you're worried about something, write down what you think might happen. Then, after the event, write down what actually happened. Over time, you'll notice that our fears often paint a much scarier picture than reality.

Here's something not many people talk about: You don't need to eliminate fear or self-doubt completely. Sometimes they're trying to tell you something important. The goal is to acknowledge them while not letting them make your decisions for you.

When you're faced with self-doubt, try this: Take one tiny action. Just one. Maybe you're doubting your creative abilities, draw one simple sketch. Worried about starting that project? Write one sentence. Scared to start exercising? Put on your workout clothes and walk for five minutes.

The beautiful thing about working through fear and self-doubt is that each small step makes the next one a little easier. You're not just moving forward; you're building resilience and self-trust along the way.

The magic happens when we learn to take action WHILE being scared, instead of waiting for the fear to go away first. It's like walking in the rain instead of waiting for the perfect sunny day!

Did you think I was going to let you leave without homework? For today, notice one fear that's been bugging you lately. Don't try to fix it or fight it, just notice it with kindness. Sometimes just acknowledging our fears with compassion makes them feel less powerful.

See you tomorrow for Day 22!

♡ ☆:.｡ Keep glowing, babes! ♡ ☆:.｡ With love, Goddess Inner Glow.

[bad-traffic-smp-ideas]

Hello! Here's an idea

Dream Life

During the day, the game is in Daydream mode. Mobs are extremely easy to kill, food, animals and trees grow at an increased rate, all mobs and players have the glow effect so you can see where everyone is. Basically everything is easy and awesome.

At night, the game switches to Nightmare mode. There is a darkness effect so there is limited visibility - not as bad as the full on blindness effect, but it does limit their vision to a certain range. Mobs are on hard mode, and trees, food and animals grow much slower than normal.

Red lives get boosted regen at night, and do not have the limited vision. However, they have hunger during the day, and are not able to see the glow effect.

Sleeping does not make the night pass, phantoms/Insomnia are turned off. There are potions that can be crafted to dispel the darkness at night, the ingredients are somewhat difficult to obtain though.

Randomised amount of lives + givelife mechanic like in Last Life, but no boogeyman. Probably an unpopular opinion, but I don't like the boogeyman mechanic, it cheapens the alliances for me. They hopefully won't need a boogeyman mechanic anyway since the Nightmare mode should kill them off eventually.

For best effects, the map they play on should feature a Creaking forest prominently.

I came up with this while half asleep at 3am while thinking about how CG5 wanted people to reclaim his I See A Dreamer song for their OCs LMAO

I read this ask, went to sleep, and did in fact have a nightmare last night. Perhaps it is a sign.

[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.

[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.

[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.”

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