#it get Significantly More notes than that lmao

[hellion-child]

.

[spicysourchimken]

Interesting reunions

Tim and Danny are twins, Danny was given up for adoption by the Drakes when he was a baby and Tim was never told he has a brother.

After a reveal gone bad, Danny, Jazz, Sam and Tucker became thieves after closing the portal. They mainly target supernatural or cursed items. Their target, a necklace, is being held in a museum with their in being a private event to show off the piece before it's sent back to its owner.

The heist would've gone well if Tim hadn't also been in attendance.

------

'Lmao and here I thought you didn't want to be here'

It was a text from Dick.

Not exactly the strangest thing to happen when Tim was forced to attend an event.

He'd been benched after a mission resulted in a minor concussion. He'd personally been planning on going over his paperwork for Wayne Enterprises, but apparently that wasn't 'rest', instead he was sent off to be bored out of his mind at some art function. He didn't have time to prepare notes or even do any real research. But he still had Dick who had apparently been dragged along as his babysitter (And was fortunately interested in the items on display)

They'd been texting throughout the night. Dick fed him enough information to be mildly interested in topics of conversation, and when that failed the strange history of the main display. An old necklace that supposedly was connected to a string of deaths and all around misfortune.

So no, the text wasn't strange, but what was, was the photo attached. It was a picture of a man, grinning and chatting amicably with a woman whom he could barely make out as the collection's curator. His hair was longer than Tim's, tied neatly back to be clear of his glasses and to give clear view of the man's face.

Tim's face.

There was a clone at the event.

'can u get me another pic?'

Tim was now significantly more interested. Tim could identify the room they were in, housing the main display and it was about two rooms over from where he was currently hiding out. He could get there easily enough.

Dick sent him a thumbs up before replying with another, distinctly more uncomfortable photo of the man. He smiled awkwardly and Tim could finally get a better look at his face. Tim's brows scrunched together. A lichtenburg scar stretched up from beneath his collar and trailed along his jaw and in the light the man's eyes almost looked green.

He ran the photo through his facial recognition software, getting at least a few pings on himself before finally landing on Jonas Spencer, private security currently assigned to shadow one Morgan Deveraux. His history was solid, highschool records, even a spotty criminal history (points where he'd almost been arrested for bar fights) before he'd joined up with his firm.

So. not a clone. Probably.

Tim would still need to check it out. He pushed past a dark haired woman and entered the main show room. Dick, luckily had kept him in conversation but Jonas looked flighty, his eyes always drifting back to his charge.

Then he caught sight of Tim.

He froze. Staring at Tim for a moment before he tapped his ear- and what Tim assumed to be a comm. He made a move for Morgan, leaving Dick in the dust.

The lights flickered. Jonas reached for Megan, his hand wrapping around hers. Tim could've sworn his eyes darted upwards. Then there was a complete blackout. There was a clatter as a vent grate fell to the floor, shouts arose from the attendees.

Then the lights flickered back to life.

Jonas and Morgan had vanished, and so did the necklace as well as three other paintings.

Good news, its not a clone. Bad news, he might have a twin brother who is in a gang of thieves.

--

Daniel Fenton, or as his ID currently stated 'Jonas Spencer', wouldn't exactly call himself a thief- personally he was more of a collector. Or a curator, whatever the hell you might call a guy who grabs haunted and or cursed objects and dumps them in an alternate dimension.

And it wasn't exactly like he was normally the one stealing things either! That was mostly Sam, he'd done for a bit when they'd first started up (pushing his hands through the glass and taking a necklace with him, or making a painting completely invisible as he whisked it away) but then Sam started calling it 'cheating' and claimed 'his technique was lacking' and promptly took over his position.

(He didn't exactly mind, using his powers too often made his skin crawl. He may not have the GIW constantly hunting him, but he'd had enough run ins to make him sweat. He also didn't want to think about his parents.)

So maybe their entire deal wasn't completely altruistic. When you've been on the run since seventeen and had decided that you, your best friends and your older sister are going to become international thieves, sometimes you have to steal things so that you can have an income. And sometimes stealing is fun.

Unluckily their current job wasn't recreational. They'd heard word of a haunted necklace, there was a string of bad luck connected to it. Mirrors shattering, injuries popping up only days after interacting with the piece, lights falling out from the ceiling. There'd also been a case of near death.

Very clearly the latest display piece was cursed meaning they needed to grab it before it was shipped back into it private collection in France. That meant a time crunch, meaning they wouldn't be fully prepared. It was fine- they'd stolen the dagger of Amon Ra when they had half a day to plan, so three should've been fine.

He and Jazz manned the floor, Jazz kept to grifting while Danny worked as support if things went sideways on any front. Jazz, currently wealthy socialite 'Morgan Devereaux', draped an arm around a politician as he guided her through the collection. Jazz shot him a glance telling him to stay back, keep monitoring the main floor with the necklace.

That was fine. He could do that. He approached the curator and complimented the piece, letting her tell him about the struggles she had getting it overseas let alone her conversations with the owner. Ok, so definitely cursed.

Danny felt eyes on his back, and from the corner of his eye he saw someone take a photo. Tall, dark hair and a bright smile.

Sam pointed out that it was a Wayne.

At that point Danny made an attempt to leave, if he was going to get into a fight we wasn't going to do it there. He'd be too close to the necklace for Sam to get in and grab it without attention being drawn to her too. But Grayson cornered him impressively fast. He asked Danny for a photo, claiming that he looked just like his brother. Danny relented.

Then Tucker chimed in that someone had ran his face. Fuck. Dick kept him in conversation but Danny was eyeing their escape roots. Sam warned that another was coming through the left entrance and that she'd already lifted his phone. Danny turned, preparing himself for confrontation.

Then Danny saw him, his doppelganger.

Grayson hadn't been lying. That thought was terrifying.

Danny sent two taps into his earpiece and made his way towards Jazz. They couldn't risk staying any longer. Danny didn't know if they'd been made or not but he wasn't taking chances. He nodded to Sam who went for the jewels as Tucker cut the lights. Jazz and Danny took a painting each.

Sam went for the vents and Danny and Jazz disappeared through the front door.

[keyaho]

.summary: nami's punishment continues. terry divulges himself. he also exposes himself. and indulges again.

short warnings: sensory play, oral, fingering banner: by me (i'm working on making some better than this one lmao. first attempt I know it ain't cute)

Part One || Part Two || Part Three

Nami thought she would get tired of her hands being bound away from her. She thought she would snap and tell him she didn’t like them anymore. Instead, she pulled on them as her arms ached, so much that the burn became familiar; like brushing her teeth. She wanted them even if she wanted to touch Terry more. In the guest room, Nami flexed her feet, one of them was bound at the ankle to the end of the bed. The other was pushed up, opening her legs. She stared up at the ceiling in wait, Terry somewhere in the house doing who knows what before he came and did god knows what to her body. 

“Your playtime has been cut in half, significantly,’ he says, still feeling miffed from her earlier attitude. 

Nami noted that Terry wasn’t going to just let things go. He held her to her choices while standing on his own. The fact that he was still going to indulge her was surprising. After the chicken tenders and fries, she figured he would keep distance between them. Instead, he spent ten minutes kissing her while her hands tugged on her pretty yellow leather cuffs. Personalized with ‘Pretty Gyal’ in black thread, the cuffs were becoming bracelets. A cute accessory to the debauchery Terry inflicted upon her. 

“But, I can indulge myself, yes?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

“Good.” 

She couldn’t see him from her positon on the bed. Head in the pillows, the room was a comfortable temperature, the cuffs weren’t too tight and she was at ease. Moments later, Terry came to the side of the bed, placing a bowl on the table next to it. He picked up her phone and turned it off. 

“No distractions.” He had left his own to die in the kitchen. 

The guest bedroom door was shut, enclosing them in their own little world. He knelt next to the bed, his finger tips running along her side. 

“Tonight was supposed to end with my face buried in your pussy. I was supposed to be eating you like the last supper, watching you try not to cum. I was supposed to let you get one off, because I wanted to watch you break apart.” 

“I’m sorry, Sir,’ she says, ‘really sorry.” 

Terry’s face softened for a little, she noted the way the lines in his forehead disappeared before they snapped back and his eyes slanted away from her as he looked at her restraints. 

“So you’ve told me.” He paused. “However, your punishment doesn’t end after being spanked.” He kissed his teeth and shook his head. “I want the lesson learned to stick so you remember not to do it again. Understood?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

He looked behind him at the bowl before continuing. “You circled sensory play and over stimulation.” 

“Yes, Sir,’ she replied, though her voice lifted at the end in question. 

“I’m going to add edging and if you are a good girl for me, I might let you cum.” 

The threat and reward lingered in the air between them. Her body tingled as he stood up with his fingers stroking her cheek, her bottom lip, and she parted her mouth. The bowl beside the bed disappeared as he placed it on the bed between her legs. 

“I want you to talk to me, okay?” Terry vocalized. “This is for you and you need to tell me what you like. Tell me what feels good.” He gestured to the room. “In here, I’ll do my best to give you what you need. Maybe even what you want.”  

Terry’s words hung between them as he stood up. 

He didn’t like to improvise but the chilling item in the bowl would have to do. Cold, his fingers dipped into the ice, the circular pieces came from a mold meant to make it easier to add to water bottles. The cylinder shape looked phallic and the sadistic tendencies Terry had began to surface. That would not be happening tonight. He wanted to be the first thing to fuck her. 

“Just feel,’ he instructed, ‘make the noises you want to.” He looked at her soft brown eyes. 

Nami hissed as the ice that landed on her belly and it sat chilling on her skin. It slowly started to melt, the cold water running down the her sides and hips. As it sat there, Terry took another piece in his hands and ran it down her inner thigh. She was warmer here and the ice snapped in half in his hands. 

“Hm..” 

His hands dipped into the bowl again and she hissed when a piece of the ice circled her nipple and another slipped between her legs. 

“Oh,’ she hummed, unsure which sensation she should focus on. 

The one on her chest was cold, but it was tolerable and her nipples hardened as he circled it around. The ice slipping between her lower lips was harsher, colder, and uncomfortable. 

“I…I don’t,’ she began, her eyes searching the ceiling as she tried to find the words. 

“What’s wrong?” Terry asks, stopping his movements and that gives Nami the clarity she needed. 

“I don’t think I like that as much,’ she admitted in a whisper. “Can I scratch that off the list?” She asked, the genuine question in her eyes made him smile. 

“Yeah, we can take that off, babygirl.” 

The initial touch of the ice was blissful, but the biting chill of it after wasn’t something she’d derive any pleasure from. Not even from the ice that he was pressing flush to her pussy, though the cold she liked. 

“Tell me why you don’t like it.” 

Nami licked her suddenly dry lips. 

“What part of me playing with your pussy with ice turned you off.” 

“The…the, um,’ she fumbled, his expression was one of pure elation as if he was enjoying talking to her this way. This wasn’t a Dom in front of her. Her free leg suddenly drew upwards as realization set in. He was too readable this way and she didn’t know if to feel happy or aroused. 

“At first it feels good. But then it’s too cold and it hurts. It stings and numbs.” 

“We can try it another way.”

He couldn’t push it off any longer. The ice had long since melted and his fingers were coated in her thick and sticky essence as he worked it from her body. He could feel her body shaking to stay still. Her hips stuttered and she gave into the pleasure, eyes drifting closed as she moaned. 

“You like that,’ he teased, applying a little more pressure. 

“Yes,” 

“Shh, my pussy is talking,’ he grabbed another piece of ice and chilled his hands before adding them to her body. 

He alternated between eating ice and rubbing it across her skin. The more he played with her pussy the hotter she began to feel and the ice became pleasurable. 

“That’s it, pretty baby.” He cooed. “You want to cum for me don’t you.” 

Nami was speechless, the multiple sensations her body was experiencing made her toes curl. A knot sat deep in her stomach, tight, and getting tighter. She fought against it but she knew moving would make it worse. Nami took deep breaths, loudly blowing them out as she tried to count herself down from a ten to a two. Her head cleared a little and she thought of something else, the shake in her limbs relaxing after a few minutes. Terry had pulled his hand away and watched as she fought the urge to cum. Her chest rose and fell slowly and she counted to herself. 

“Good girl,’ Terry was amused, ‘yu really waah cum fi mi nuh you?’ he laughed. “Tell mi how it feel.” 

Nami watched his eyes light up as he smiled. All fucking thirty-two teeth were bared and the shift in his speech sent the flood straight from her pussy to the bedsheets. She blinked in wonder as he kissed her wrists. Terry then leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead, cheek, nose, and then her lips. His fingers began to poke around her hole, flirting with her wet folds as his tongue licked into her mouth. The squelching sounds had been minor before. She could hear them now and feel the way her slick stuck to his fingers. 

“Talk to me, Nami,’ he whispered.

“It feels good.” 

“I know that,’ he replied. “Talk to me.”

“You have me so wet,’ she admitted, his fingers stroking continuously in the same pattern, driving her thoughts wild with the repetition. 

Her breath fanned against his face as she breathed, trying to control herself as his thumb began to strum her clit like a guitar. His fingers moved downward and she bucked her hips unexpectedly when his middle and ring finger pushed into her cunt and stroked in a ‘come hither’ motion. His thumb made light circles on her swollen clit. He scissored his fingers, stretching her left and right. 

Terry kissed down her jaw and sucked on the skin of her neck. The words left her lips faster than she could form them in her head. 

“Does it feel good, baby,” Terry asked. 

 “Yes, Daddy…” 

“Who's making you feel good,’ he hissed. His stroke became faster. 

“You, Daddy-please,’ Nami pleaded. His hand was doing demonic craft through his fingers. He was the spawn of a pleasure demon and she could feel her offering leaking from between her legs. 

Nami felt her body arching into his fingers, seeking out more from him, and he pulled them away. The relief that washed over her as her body fell to the bed was magical. Clarity set in and she threw her leg over to close herself off, trying to rub away the intense feelings pulsating through her slit. 

Terry reached over to the nightstand and turned on her phone. He slid it unlock and set a timer. He dropped the phone onto her stomach as he kissed down her body, his tongue drawing her left nipple into his mouth. He grinned as she pushed her chest upwards towards him, the touch caught her off guard. His tongue lapped there for a few seconds then left a trail towards her sex. Before that he tapped the outside of her leg to get her attention. 

“Yes, Sir,’ she slurred, the sexual haze settling over her as she tried to keep her thoughts clear. She was overwhelmed and her body felt hot. 

“You have two minutes left,’ he pressed a light kiss to her sex. The tip of his tongue flicked against her swollen clit and she whimpered. “You can hold it that long and Daddy will let you cum.” 

“Please, I’ll be good!” She didn’t want to wait two minutes. 

Amused, Terry looked up from his wet fixation. “You’ll be good huh?” 

Nami whined. “I’ll be so good for you.” 

He kissed her pussy again with a bit more firm pressure. Namis legs shaked. 

”Two minutes.” 

He started the timer and pushed her legs apart. Terry pressed his hand into the back of her knee and held it open as his tongue licked between her wet slit. She tried to count, but lost track when he licked from her weeping hole to her sensitive throbbing clit. Terry felt her trying to drag her body away from him. He let her, watching her twist away from him as he licked his lips. He followed her, pushing her legs back open. He finds the phone and drops it beside her head, his eyes threatening her to keep still. 

“Be still.” 

He grabbed her hips and lowered his mouth back to her pussy, slurping his tongue through it. His mouth was cold. The ice shocked her body with a sudden chill. Terry’s tongue quickly licked the chill away, warming her up and making her slicker. The sounds of him eating her out were loud and wet. He sucked her clit into his mouth roughly as his fingers rejoined in stroking her hole. 

Nami was on the verge of tears, the knot in her belly was hard to keep away, and she couldn’t see the time to know what was left and she was sure she wasn’t going to make it. 

“Hold out for me,’ Terry says. 

His fingers were playing a symphony on her g-spot, how could she? 

“Yuh naa go rush Daddy yuh?” 

He brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean as she caught a glimpse of his face. His mouth and chin were soaked. The sight of him covered in her mess was too much. The deep baritone of his patois was just as mind numbing as the fingers that had been slipping in and out of her pussy. Nami’s legs drifted shut, her toes curling. 

The alarm on the phone blared and she let go, whimpering as her orgasm soared through her. She didn’t even need him to touch her, just the sight of him between her legs tasting her and the feeling of his thick tongue pushed her over. The alarm was just the trigger. Terry watched her body shake, her hole leaked, creating a large wet spot on the sheets. He thumbed her over the sensitive clit and watched how that same leaking hole clenched around nothing. How her sweet little pink cunt needed to be filled as it welcomed his fingers again. He stroked her a few times, watching her face wince in overstimulation. As Terry watched her sum, he kept eating the ice. 

When his cold tongue flattened against her pussy a second time, Nami tugged so hard on her restraint the latched holding them to the bed snapped. Her wrists were still bound as they came swinging forward from the sudden momentum. Terry heard the snap and looked up and his hand came out to grab her wrists before her hands could grab him. He had disclosed jujitsu as one of his hobbies but she was still surprised at his reflexes. Maybe it was the marine in him too. Either way he pinned them over head, but didn’t hold them. He looked at her in warning and she silently understood. 

“Yes. Sir.” 

He brought her body to the edge of the bed after unbinding them completely. He knelt between her legs as he watched her hands to make sure they were above her head. She had them face downwards and gripping the sheets. Once he parted her legs his mouth latched on to her clit. He assaulted it with his tongue, licked, sucked into his mouth, and devoted so much attention to it she was begging him to let up and slow down. 

His tongue licked lower, his resolve gone as he licked his way into her hole, sucking the slick she hadn’t stopped leaking. It was all unbeatable this time and he gave into temptation. He pulled her legs over his shoulders so he could hold her still. Nami rocked her hips against his mouth, his wet and deadly mouth. 

“I knew this pussy was going to taste good,’ he breathed out, a light chuckle in his chest.

His eyes were blue, Nami’s mouth dropped open as Terry’s tongue flicked against her like a snake's tail.  

With her legs pressed towards her chest, Terry’s tongue played around in her pussy. He was such a noisy eater, slurping and sucking until she was trying to wiggle away from him. His hips began to rock and he flattened his tongue against her pussy letting her ride his face. Her chest rose and fell as she sucked in air. She needed some relief and it was starting to expand in her lower belly. A fire so hot the ice on his tongue did little to soothe. 

She felt like crying. The sensation of being licked and forcing herself not to cum was making her head split. She felt like she was being pulled in two different directions. Nami looked down at him again. His eyes, fuck, those eyes. 

Were they? 

Green? Now? 

Chameleon ass…..

Fucking green eyed bast-

The shrill of the alarm scared Nami right into her orgasm. Her back arched off the bed and her toes curled from their position in the air. She sucked in a deep breath, feeling her pussy quiver as she wished to turn on her side and rub her thighs together, the friction needed. 

When did he set another one?

Terry tore himself away from her cunt. Standing abruptly he wiped a hand over his mouth and chin, but his skin still shone with the aftermath of her orgasm. 

Nami tried to sit up. Her body slumped back to the bed as she joined him in trying to catch their breath. Her voice was soft, sleepy sounding, but he heard it: 

“Thank you, Daddy.”

Terry looked down at himself. He had worn briefs beneath his sweats, hoping to contain himself a bit better and resist the urge to jerk off as he tasted her. Nami wasn’t like previous submissives. Her naivety turned him on. Her wonder and interest renewed his lust for the community. He looked down at her, his heavy breathing silent as she laid there, legs spread, for his next instruction. She was waiting to know what he wanted her to do. He bit down on his lip, slightly upset he lost control just now. He shouldn’t have indulged in her the way he had. Not when punishment was the precursor. He should have edged her and then let her be. Yet, Terry had given in. He had let her cum. He had went against his own R.E.L.Ls to indulge when he had been waiting for the right moment. A tinge of anger settled into his bones and he looked away from her inviting body and slipped into the bathroom. 

He had exposed a part of himself that he shouldn’t have and she caught it. Caught him. He couldn’t fault her for what she did not know was happening. As he busied himself with running her a bath, Terry opened the bathroom’s closet and pulled out a towel and placed it on the sink counter. 

“Sir,’ came her soft voice. 

She stood in the door, her hands bound in front of her, curly hair messy, and his shirt was wrinkled and damp. Nami was a mess of his doing and he bit back the urge to smile. Shit. He needed to reel himself in. The scene was over and he could feel the drop in energy. 

“Yes?” He replied after swallowing. 

“I was trying not to cum.” She whispered. She raised her hands and rubbed them over her flushed face. Her mascara had run, making dark streaks over her cheeks. “I really was trying.” 

Terry’s eyes softened as he walked over to her. “I know.” He cupped her face and brought his head down to kiss her. “You made it to the end of the two minutes.” He pulled away and kissed her forehead. “Twice.” 

“Am I still in trouble,’ she asked as she pursed her lips. 

“Nah, you’re not in trouble.” 

He let her go and she watched him prep her bath. He never stayed in the bathroom with her, so when he beckoned her in she didn’t hesitate. 

“Grab the counter.” 

She put her back to him and placed her hands on the counter. He stood behind her and she watched him in the large mirror. Shirtless, his chest pressed against her back and he unnecessarily leaned into her to remove the cuffs. His hands wrapped around her wrists as his fingers unlatched the leather. He kissed her neck, pulled down the shirt and pressed his lips to her shoulder all the while keeping eye contact with her in the mirror. She tried to look away but his eyes were hypnotic, drawing her in and keeping her hostage. 

With the cuffs gone, Nami lifted her arms to rub her wrists. Beside her, Terry opened a drawer and pulled out a blue tin of salve. His hands then grabbed the back of the shirt and lifted upwards before tossing it into a hamper near the closet. Terry turned around and turned off the water, testing the temperature. She stayed still, watching him over her shoulder. The muscles in his back flexed as he stood up right. 

“When you’re done, wrap in that towel and come see me in the living room.” 

Spread over his lap, Nami’s eyes rolled upwards as he rubbed the thick salve into her ass and inner thighs. His thumbs pressed into her skin and she went limp, enjoying the care. She was in another one of his shirts, not caring it was hanging off her head as she let her arms dangle. His hand smoothed up her back, her shoulders slumping more into his thighs. 

Choking. Spanking. Grabbing. Massaging. 

Those hands could do whatever they wanted to. 

“Do you need a nap?” He asked. 

They had done a lot over the past few days and he wondered if he was moving too fast. She was just so willing. 

“Not yet,’ she replied. If she did she wanted to take on with him. 

“I want to talk about one of the kinks you have.” He says. 

He pulls down her shirt and helps her sit up. She tucks her hands into her lap as she sits cross legged next to him on the couch. He closed the salve tin and dropped it on the infamous table. 

“Yes, S-’

“Speak freely.” He says. “This one is serious.” 

He had studied that paper like it was his orders for work. 

“Do you understand the depth of control I have to have to allow you to participate in consensual non consent, even with me?” 

Nami bit down on her bottom lip. It was one of the first kinks she circled and though she knew the extent of what it could be, Terry’s question had her second guessing. 

“No.” She whispered. “Do you not want to do it? We can take it off.” 

Terry’s hand came down on her knee, stopping her fidgeting. He leaned back and shook his head. 

“That’s not why I am asking.” He looked at her and then to where his hand was on her thigh. “You are giving me consent before it ever happens. That’s different than in the moment. Yeah, you can safeword, but there is no other way to do the kink unless you go all the way. No safewording.” He could see the concern on her face. “I wouldn’t do anything you hadn’t agreed to prior, but we can’t plan this kink. It comes when I want it to.” 

Nami had mentioned she wanted to give up control, as much as she could, because she liked being used in that way. For lack of better words if he wanted, Terry could use her as a toy. She derived so much pleasure from sexual intimacy. The kinks heightened the feelings, but being that close to a man was the main turn on. To be desired in that way. 

“If I see you aren’t enjoying it then I will stop it. And we can try at a later time.” Terry continued. “I’m going to come to you when you don’t want it. When you’re tired or when you’re busy. Your safe word is the only trigger and if you use it, I will never do this kink again.” He paused. “If I have control then I have it. It’s not shared. It’s not traded back and forth. It’s mine the same way your body will be in that moment. At my discretion and for how long I desire to use it.” 

She twisted the shirt in her hands while she looked down at the material. 

“But it wouldn’t happen until after I fuck you so you have nothing to worry about for now. I just wanted you to know the severity of that particular kink.” 

“How do we warm up to that?” 

Terry laughed, not at her, but he understood the joke. “We don’t, however, exploring your kinks helps me create the scene for you. I’ll do what you like after I do what I want.” 

Nami nodded, unsure of what to say. She needed to think about it. 

“Can I ask you something,’ she inquired. 

“Of course,’ he replied, his hand sliding up her thigh and beneath the shirt. “Anything you want.” 

“You….earlier, there was a difference,’ she fumbled over her words, trying to string them together so they made sense. “I called you Daddy but you didn’t correct me. Or punish me for it.” 

“In the heat of things I can forget to pace myself and I slip into a different head space.” 

“Was it my fault?” She asked. 

Terry’s eyes shot up to hers and he leaned forward, almost in her lap. She kept her hands tightly fisted in the shirt. 

“No, you did everything right.” He sighed. 

Nami waited for him to speak again, though she let out a sigh of content when he kissed her. His tongue swept over her bottom lip and she opened her mouth, letting him taste her as if he hadn’t. Her hands twitched and she huffed. So badly she wanted to hold his face, his shoulders, scratch up his back, marvel at the way his toned stomach rippled beneath her fingers and feel the heaviness of his dick in her hands. 

She was snatched from her thoughts as his hand pushed between her legs, the heat inviting his fingers back into her cove, just as wet as it had been before. 

“What are you thinking about that made you so wet, Nami?” He teased, pushing her to lie back on the couch. 

He unfolded her legs, pushed her arms up and settled between her thighs. 

“I really want to touch you.” She says, eyes glossy as he played with her pussy. Their talk became more sensual as he pushed them into her cunt, stroking a fire that was warming her belly. 

“I know.” He kissed her neck, tugging the skin between his teeth as she arched into his fingers. “I can’t keep my hands off you.” He admitted. “You taste so fucking good, baby.” 

He crawled to the floor, kneeling beside her before pulling her legs to either side of his head. He brought her body down, resting her thighs on his shoulders as he held her still. He kissed her clit, looking up at her as she held onto the back of the couch. 

“Mi nuh need yuh touchin mi rite now.” 

Terry whispered patois to her pussy, his lips licking up her slick as she dug her nails into the back of the couch. There it was again, Nami thought, something gentle about how he spoke to her, the patois rolling across her ears as she moaned. She tried to keep still, to watch him devour her, but her body betrayed her and she rocked her hips back and forth against his mouth again. 

She was still sensitive from earlier and the need to push his head away while pulling him closer at the same time was high. His tongue was flat as it pressed against her cunt and she could almost feel his damn tastebuds flaring up as they became soaked in her mess. 

“Sweet little pussy,’ he hummed. “Mi a guh fuck yuh senseless.” 

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[python333]

need a ride? — python333

— — — —

synopsis ur walking home from school and theres a weirdo following you, luckily the 141 are there and they help u out!! :3

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & gn!reader.

characters cap. price, soap (for like 2 seconds, so sorry soap enjoyers), ghost, gaz.

word count 2.4k

warnings a creepy old man following [reader], [reader] intended to be in high school, 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of y/n [your name].

note i have like 5 drafts and all of them are requests from people so im so sorry i havent been working on those!! i pinky prom once i get the motivation to write them--which probably sounds weird since i wrote this but trust me when i had to force myself to write this lmao--i will be posting them :3 i hope u all enjoy this fic, its all fluff and emotional hurt/comfort + protective-ish 141!!

You really wish you had listened to that first warning light. 

For a whole two days, your car had been in an auto repair shop, because you decided to ignore four whole warnings signs that something was seriously wrong with your car. Suspension and alignment issues, they’d told you yesterday, The wheels need to be realigned, the damaged suspension components need to be replaced, and the whole thing would take a day or two.

Fast forward to now, it’s 3:30 in the afternoon and you’ve been walking from school to your house for about ten minutes. The sun is close to being fully set—one of the worst parts of winter—and there’s been a guy following you for about five minutes now. 

He showed up once you’d exited the school premises and since then had been very determined to follow you home. You obviously did not want this to happen. But it didn’t matter if you walked faster, because he would only match your pace. If you tried to run, you assume, he’d just run after you, and seeing as he had far longer legs than you—you were pretty fucked if you decided to run. 

You would try to call an Uber, but your phone had been dead since fifth period. And you would try and catch a bus or something, but there were no bus stops near where you live, and even if there were, you weren’t carrying any cash or any cards on you. 

So, again, you’re pretty fucked. 

You look back at the man again, and turn your head right back around to look ahead of yourself once you see him looking right back at you, closer than you remember him being. Is he walking faster? Do I have to walk faster? 

You let out a shaky breath and keep walking, speeding up your walk just a bit and widening your strides, trying to think of what you should do. You didn’t want to just lead him to your house, that was just stupid. But you couldn’t just not go home—where else would you go? 

You continue to walk, speeding up a bit when you start to hear the man behind you speed up, and you try to control your panicked breathing. What are you supposed to do? You mentally curse yourself out for not carrying any self defense on your person, and continue your walking. 

Then suddenly, as if they were sent by God himself, you see four men come into view—one with a mohawk, one wearing some sort of skull mask-balaclava, one with sunglasses on even when the sun is almost set, and one with a boonie hat on—all walking together, all engaged in a casual conversation. 

You wonder for a moment if you should try and get closer to them to see if the guy would leave you alone. You hear the guy behind you speed up as you think and you take a deep breath before walking significantly faster to get closer to the men ahead of you. 

Am I really gonna trust a group that has a guy wearing a fucking skull mask in it? You hear the man behind you speed up as well and you speed up in retaliation, trying to think more about what to do, Do I just walk near them or do I straight up pretend I know them?

You think that the second option would be more likely to ward the weirdo following you away, but how would you even go about it? Do you just walk near them, or actually talk to them and join in on their conversation? 

You look behind you again and see the man significantly closer to you.

Deciding to take the risk, you rush up to them, swallowing down your panic when you hear the man behind you’s footsteps speed up to try and match your own speed. 

“Hey, guys!” All four of the guys turn around to look at you, their expressions all varying looks of confusion as you continue to talk, “Crazy seeing you guys here, it— it’s been so long.” 

You try to get as close to them as possible while not touching them and end up standing right by who you assume is the oldest. You try to subtly gesture to the man who was just following you, and the man you’re standing next to seems even more confused for a moment. 

“Uh, I don—” One of his friends cuts him off with a swat to the arm and when he turns his head to look at them in confusion, they nod over at the man whose just now catching up with you, and his mouth shapes into an ‘o’ before he looks back at you with a bit more understanding in his eyes. 

“Right, yeah, it has been really long,” He corrects himself, the other two of his friends catching on and stepping closer to you, almost creating a shield around you. He looks you over for a moment, before asking, “You just get out of school?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I did,” You nod, grateful that they caught on, hoping your gratitude is somewhat apparent, “About ten minutes ago.”

“Nobody picked you up this time?” The older man asks, tilting his head to the side a bit. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the man who’d been following you getting closer, but you force yourself to ignore him. 

“Yeah, no, everyone was kind of busy, so I have to walk home,” You respond, shoving your hands into the pocket of your hoodie to hide their shakiness as the other man stopped to stare at you two’s conversation. 

“Aw, well that sucks,” The other man frowns, before offering, “I was just heading back to my car, I could drive you back to your house? It’s on the way to the hotel we’re staying at, anyway.” 

You hesitate, trying to see if the man who’d been following you was still there, and much to your disappointment, he was. It was like he was just waiting for you to make a decision. 

Not knowing if you had any other choice, you nod affirmatively, “Yeah, sure. If that’s okay.” 

The older man gives you a small smile and pats your shoulder, “Of course it’s okay. I don’t want you just walking out here by yourself.”  

You almost sobbed in relief when you heard the creep that was following you scoff and finally walk back to wherever he came from after hearing that you accepted their offer of a ride. The older man takes his hand off of your shoulder and looks over, noticing the man has left as well, then looks back at you with a more concerned expression on his face. 

“Sorry, I almost gave you away at the beginning there,” He sincerely apologizes. 

“It’s fine, he probably didn’t even notice,” You put on a small smile and take a deep breath before adding on, “Thank you for that. I didn’t think he was ever gonna go away.” 

“Yeah, no problem,” The older man smiles at you, and tacks on, “I was serious about the ride, by the way. If you’re comfortable with that, of course.” 

You pause for a moment at that and think about if you trust them enough to have him drive you to your house and know your address and everything. 

“It’s my car, by the way,” The guy with the sunglasses butts in, “I’m the one paying for it. No clue why he said it was his.” 

“Because it was easier than saying it was yours,” The other guy sighs. 

“Actually—” The one with a mohawk interrupts, before immediately being cut off by the other two with a simple ‘shut up’. He rolls his eyes, and does indeed shut up. 

The one with a skull mask must notice your slight confusion, because he comments, “We’re renting a car for this week. Gaz is paying for it.” 

“Don’t call me Gaz in public,” Gaz grumbles, “That’s weird. Just call me Kyle.” 

“That sounds weirder,” The one with the skull mask argues, before the one with the almost-bucket hat sighs exasperatedly, the sound enough to make the two others shut up. 

“Uh…” All their attention is back on you as you talk, making you resist the urge to shrink back in on yourself, “I mean, if you guys are totally okay with it, then I’d be… okay with getting a ride home.” 

“Great!” Gaz smiles at you before dropping the smile and turning to the one with the skull mask, “You’re getting an Uber or something. I’m not driving you after that.” 

“Wh—” The one in the skull mask, despite you only being able to see his eyes, looks baffled, “I didn’t do anything, fuckin’ kick out Soap or something!” 

“Me? Why me?” The one with the mohawk—Soap, you assume—squawks, watching as Gaz actually thinks about it before nodding. 

“Good point. Soap, call an Uber so…” Gaz pauses before turning to you, “What’s your name, love?” 

You give him your name and he nods before turning back to Soap, “So that [y/n] can take your spot in the car.” 

“I—” Soap begins to argue, before sighing and rolling his eyes, reaching into his back pocket for his phone, “Fine. Whatever. Fuck all of ye.” 

“Sorrows, sorrows, prayers,” Gaz says dryly before turning back to you, “The car’s just another block up.” 

“Got it,” You nod, “So I should just follow you guys then, or…?”

“Yeah,” Gaz confirms, “Stay a little closer in case that guy decides to come back, or if anyone else tries to follow you, alright, love?” 

You nod again and take another step closer to the man with the skull mask and follow everyone else as they continue walking down to their car. They’re silent for the rest of the walk back, the man in the skull mask and the one with the almost-dad-going-fishing-hat keeping an eye out for any creeps while Gaz leads the way to the car. 

Once you’ve all reached the car, Gaz unlocks it and the man in the skull mask and the one in the almost-bass-pro-shops-hat immediately get into the back seats, letting you have shotgun. You mentally thank them for it and wordlessly get into the passenger’s seat, happy that it’s not too dirty in the car, closing the car door once you’re in. 

You buckle yourself in immediately and look right out the front window whilst Gaz gets in. This definitely won’t end up in me being kidnapped, You tell yourself, Totally not. This is the best idea I’ve ever had. Getting in a car with someone who goes by Gaz, someone who wears a mask from Spirit Halloween, and someone’s dad who somehow ended up here. Fucking perfect idea. I should do this more often.

Gaz gets in and buckles himself in, putting the car key into the ignition and twisting it, starting up the engine. You continue to stare out the window wordlessly as Gaz pulls out of the parking lot he’d been in and gets onto the road. 

“Could you give me the directions to get to your place?” He asks you once he’s stopped at a red light right outside of the parking lot. Silently, you nod. 

“Yeah, just, uh, keep going straight then take a left on Monroe,” You instruct him quietly. He nods and presses on the gas once the light turns green, continuing straight like you’d said. 

“You alright?” The bearded man in the back pipes up, making you twist your head back to look at him. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You assure him, half-lying, “Just a little tired and creeped out.” 

“Reasonable,” He hums, before adding on, “I’m John, by the way, and this is Simon.” 

Simon, the dude wearing the Spirit Halloween mask, perks up at the sound of his name, but otherwise doesn’t say anything. 

“Good to know,” You respond, wondering if you should say anything else before awkwardly turning back in your seat to continue staring out the window, watching as Gaz takes a left. 

“Take the next right, then just continue straight and then take a right on Balboa,” You tell him. He nods and takes the next right just as you told him to. 

It’s probably safe to assume they aren’t kidnapping you, You think, your breathing finally back to normal now that you know you’re probably not in any danger. 

“So what’s with the name ‘Gaz’?” You ask Gaz without thinking, tired of the silence in the car. Based on the way Gaz groans and John huffs out a laugh, you assume it’s somewhat of a long story. 

“It’s kind of a long story?” Bingo. “But in short, I just don’t talk too much, and someone decided to make a big deal out of that.” 

“I never made it a big deal!” John insists, all while Simon looks at him like he knows he’s lying, “It’s just a nickname!” 

You listen in on their bickering, grateful to finally have some noise in the car, and huff out a small, amused laugh at their antics. 

Soon enough, Gaz is turning right on Balboa, and he drives right into your neighborhood. 

“It’s the house right up there,” You point to it, and he looks at the house you pointed at and speeds up a bit to reach it faster. 

Once he’s at the house he thinks you pointed at, he asks, “This one, right?” and pulls into the driveway when you nod in confirmation. 

He parks the car in your driveway and turns off the engine, immediately unlocking the car and turning to you. 

“Well, I hope you have a good rest of your day,” He says politely, offering you a smile. 

“Thank you, you too,” You smile back, feeling a little bad for being so eager to get out of the car. Then again, you really just want to get inside of your house where it’s safe, so you quickly unbuckle your seatbelt and open the car door. 

You carefully get out and close it behind you, fishing your keys out from your back pocket, walking up to the front door of your house and unlocking it, only hearing Gaz’s car pulling out of your driveway after you’ve successfully opened your front door. 

You yawn as you walk in, and close the door behind you, toeing off your shoes and leaving them by the front door.

You think, in the back of your head, about how weird it is that you didn’t get kidnapped despite that being the perfect opportunity for them to do so—but you don’t think about it too hard. You’re just grateful to have gotten home safe.

[cheeseboi420]

Of A Feather - Chapter One Preview

A/N: hi everybody!!! I am super duper stoked to present u all with the first 2k words of Of A Feather, aka the "what if Jason's bio mom didnt SUCK" fic. Im hoping to have the full chapter ready for publishing in the next week or two! Big thanks to everyone who's talked to me abt this fic so far, and an ESPECIALLY big thanks to @jayladfanpage for basically being my jaybin encyclopedia while i work my way through this fic!!! This warning will be more applicable in future chapters but it should be noted that this fic is NOT canon compliant and does significantly change/recontextualize a couple things about Jason's background, but you the audience get to find out about all that in real time alongside Jason lmao!! Anyways, without further adieu, please enjoy this preview ❤️

TW: mentions of drug use, teen pregnancy, allusions to underage sex

You expect this evening to play out like the one before it. And the one before that. And the one before that. Your routine hasn't changed in the last 13 years. Why should it? It serves you well enough, keeps you alive and… Well, that's about all it does for you. Not that you're looking for more! For the most part, you are… content, maybe isn't the correct word. Complacent fits a little better, but still isn't wholly accurate. You're content in the knowledge that your boy is safe and loved, somewhere far away from the trouble that chases you. You're complacent in your own quiet misery. The longing and loneliness had been a bitter pill to swallow those first few years of running, but after this long you've learned not to complain. God knows no one would listen if you did.

You've got a shitty box pizza in the oven. This will be your dinner, tomorrow's breakfast, and tomorrow's dinner. You won't particularly enjoy any of the meals, but they'll sustain you well enough. These days, food brings you little, if any joy. Meal times are a chore to slog through before the distraction that work brings or the sweet embrace of sleep. You look forward to, more than anything, going to bed. Not because you're tired (though there is a bone deep weariness that permeates- that no amount of rest could ever fix) but because bed means sleep, and sleep means dreams, and dreams mean a chance to hold your baby again.

You don't dream of Jason every night, but every morning, you wake thinking of him. Is he still asleep right now? Having breakfast? Is he eating well? Is he happy? Is he happy? Is he happy?

By the time you push your way through breakfast most mornings the cacophony of thoughts revolving around your son quiets to a dull roar in the back of your mind. It's better that way, you think. If you thought about him as much as your mind seemed to want you to, you'd never get anything done.

Life carries on, you suppose. However dreary and dull that life may be.

At one time you'd found the whole thing very exciting- though not in a particularly enjoyable way. The adrenaline rush has worn off over the years, no longer do you feel as though death is nipping at your heels. The paranoia never fades though. Even if your doom does not cast a shadow over you, you're always looking over your shoulder, always ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.

You keep a bag packed and ready in the closet by the front door for when you have to leave this place, too. Though, you think it's buried under a winter jacket and your spare blankets. You really ought to dig it out, keep it easily accessible. You should do that but… it's been a long day. You want to eat your shitty pizza, lay down on your futon, and let the sound of tv static fill your studio apartment, lulling you to sleep.

You're getting too comfortable here, you think. You've lived in Michigan for nearly a year now. It is simultaneously entirely too close to and entirely too far from Gotham. The apartment itself was a godsend after spending most of your time sleeping in cars, tents, whatever unfortunate business was willing to employ you, anywhere you could, really- sure it has bugs, and the windows don't close all the way, and you're fairly certain it'll only take one more bad winter storm for the place to come crumbling down, but rent is dirt cheap, and the slumlord you rent from didn't ask for any ID when you signed your ‘lease.’ You're fairly certain that thing's not legally binding anyways- it was written on a cocktail napkin for Christ's sake. That didn't stop you from using a fake name when signing it. You can never be too careful.

You haven't seen your landlord since you moved in anyways. You don't ask for maintenance when things break, you fix them yourself or just learn to live with them broken. You deliver your rent by slipping a cash stuffed envelope with your name (your fake name, the one you signed your lease with, the one you use at work, the one you'd use at coffee shops if you ever went to any) on it through the slot in the office door. You do your best to be invisible. You don't cause problems, and you don't go out of your way to fix them for others. You make no friends or enemies. You've left no impact on the many places you've been, the cities you've drifted through.

The only evidence you've gone anywhere at all in your life is a stack of postcards, held together with a worn rubber band, sitting at the bottom of your go-bag. The only evidence of a life lived before that is in a similarly bound stack of polaroids, held together with a too-small paperclip. Every now and then, you'll buy a bottle of cheap wine to chug as you pour over the old photographs. Only when you leave for a new city do you dare to touch the stack of unsent postcards.

You can't bear to look at the photos too often, a painful reminder of your own failings. A reminder of the stupid, reckless little girl you'd been and the shell of a woman you'd become in the aftermath.

Girls like you'd been were a dime a dozen in Crime Alley. Really, you weren't even a particularly special or severe case. Sure, you did drugs, but you weren't on crack. You were just a bit of a stoner! Sure you'd been sixteen and pregnant, without the slightest idea which of your former paramours had knocked you up- but it was all above board, really! None of those men had forced you to do anything. In fact, you sought them out of your own volition for all sorts of reasons. Attention, cheap affection, cheaper drugs, something to do, somewhere to go when the home you'd once shared with your father and brother had become too stifling to bear.

It's all your own fault, really.

At least that's what you keep telling yourself.

It's easier to swallow than the alternative: that you were a vulnerable and unloved thing, eating from any hand that would feed you, until the hand that feeds decides to beat.

This, you think, is why you shouldn't think too hard about the past. It doesn't do you any good to dwell on it.

You force yourself to focus on the present, on the here and now. The scratchy polyester blend of the futon cushions, the scent of cheap cheese melting in the oven, the distant sound of sirens, and howling wind outside your apartment. There's no sense in thinking about Gotham now, not when you're so far from it.

You sit up on the futon, no longer content to lounge and let your mind wander. Instead you task yourself with flipping through channels on TV, seeking something mind numbing enough to distract you from your unusually strong urge to reminisce.

The Wonder Years? No, you don't want to watch anything about a family.

Alf? No, that puppet creeps you out.

Cops? Fuck that.

You're about to resign yourself to another night of murmuring the (mostly incorrect) answers to Jeopardy questions at your tv, when you're startled by a knock at your door.

A… knock… at your door.

No one ever knocks on your door. You don't get mail, you don't have friends, if your landlord wanted something, you're willing to bet the greasy bastard wouldn't be willing to haul himself all the way up to the fifth floor at nearly 10 PM.

Oh God… Did… Did he find you? Is this it? Are you going to die in the upper peninsula of Michigan, of all places?!

No, no. You have to stay calm. This could be anything. It's just a knock at the door. It could be anyone!

Oh lord, it could be anyone.

You keep the tv on, hoping that the sound of Alex Trebek grilling folks on useless trivia will cover your footsteps as you creep towards your front door. You hold your breath as you press yourself against it, double checking that all three of your locks are secure before you risk a glance out the peephole.

When you look out into the hall you're surprised, and frankly a bit confused by the sight before you. Standing at your door is a boy, dark haired and bright eyed. He stands straight but not particularly tall- he can't be more than five feet. He's glancing around the hall, rocking back and forth on his heels. He's wearing a red sweatshirt and jeans, with a backpack slung over one shoulder. Despite his small stature he holds an air of determination that makes you think he must feel quite old for his age- you get that, you were the same way in your own youth. A chip too big for your shoulder.

You're so focused on studying him that it startles you when he leans forward to knock again. You jolt, accidentally kicking the door (with your bare feet too, damn does that hurt your poor toes) and responding to his knock-knock-knock with a solid knock of your own.

“Hello?” The boy calls. “Anybody home?”

“I don't have any money!” You call back, cursing yourself for the shake in your voice. You should not be this rattled by a random adolescent on your doorstep. “So, if you're selling popcorn, or cookies, or whatever, you should try next door.”

The boy rolls his eyes.

“I'm not a boy scout!” He says. “I'm looking for-”

And then the shoe drops; he says your name. Your full name. Not your fake name, that you use at work, and on envelopes, and in hypothetical coffee shops. Your real name.

It takes every bit of emotional regulation you can muster not to spiral into a full blown panic right then and there because good God, did He send a child to finish you off? The cruel irony is not lost on you. Come to think of it, this boy on your doorstep does bear an uncanny resemblance to-

“My name is Jason Todd,” the boy continues. “And uh… well, I might be your son?”

He could be lying, the logical part of your brain insists. This could be a ploy to get you to open the door, don't open the door! But your hands are moving on their own, shakey as they may be. The first lock twists unlocked with ease, the second takes a fair bit more of your fine motor function, and by the time your shaking hands reach up to unhook the chain on the door, you're struggling to see through unshed tears. You attempt once, twice, three fucking times to get your hands to cooperate and unlatch the damn chain.

Fuck it.

You open the door, yanking it inwards, towards yourself as hard as you can. It should probably unnerve you that the flimsy chain breaks at the first sign of real resistance, but that's not what's important right now.

What's important is the boy standing before you- your boy. Your Jason.

He looks as surprised as you feel, his eyes flitting between the broken chain, and you.

For a long moment the only thing you can do is look at him, reacquaint yourself with the sight of him. Of course, you know that he did not stay frozen in time, the way your memory of him is. It's been many years since you've held that babbling toddler. But knowing and seeing are two different things.

He's small for his age, is your first thought. Your own fault, you're certain. Between a premature delivery and your own malnourishment during that first trimester, it's a miracle he'd survived in the first place. Small, but well fed. His cheeks are full and flushed. Despite his size, he seems healthy. Good. That means Will's been feeding him. Hopefully, it means they got the hell out of The Alley, into a nicer neighborhood.

His hair isn't as curly as you'd pictured it- too short in most places to hold a curl, save for his bangs, which seem to almost form the shape of a heart over his forehead.

“Jason?” You can barely manage to say his name through the lump in your throat. You find yourself suddenly struggling to focus your gaze on him, the haze of tears welling up in your eyes makes it difficult to see. You try to blink them away but instead they roll down your cheeks.

God, when's the last time you cried?

You reach out to him, cupping one of his cheeks in the palm of your shaking hand. He leans into the affectionate touch, and you're reminded of puppies, overeager and seeking love at every opportunity.

“Mom,” he says back to you, his tone just as reverent as your own. “Mom,” he says again, voice crackling. And then, in unison, the both of you have pulled each other into a crushing hug. You can't tell if the sound you make is a sob or a laugh. You hold onto Jason like he'll vanish into the ether if you loosen your hold for even a second, one hand clutching at the back of his sweatshirt, the other at the back of his head, petting his hair as he buries his face in your neck.

Finally, at long last, your heart is home.

SO. What do we think folks. Are you hooked? I hope youre hooked. Please be hooked. I wanna talk to people about this fic so damn bad. Please send anons or dms or literally anything. When the chapter is complete I'll be putting it up here as well as on my ao3, which I'll link to! Thanks so much for reading and i hope yall are enjoying yourselves so far! Send me an anon or a dm if you'd like to be included on the taglist for this series!

TAGLIST: @leirobles

[yeowangies]

Candy

❧

PAIRING: Vegeta/Reader RATING: Explicit CONTENTS: Explicit sexual content, Masturbation. WARNINGS: None. WORDCOUNT: 2150

Summary: Vegeta is tired of you teasing and tempting him.

Notes:

Another thing I wrote to try to get back on track with other writings, and it tured out longer than I expected.

I haven't written anything regarding masturbation and I SO wanted to write this, and I figured Vegeta was the best subject for this! Didn't think this would be over 2k words lmao.

How you found yourself underneath Vegeta after interrupting his training at the gravity chamber was kind of a funny story. Or at least it was looking at it at that moment. 

You didn’t think your little comments affected him so much; not when Bulma said things far cruder and more obscene than you did. You were doing it for the fun of it. Vegeta seemed closed to either obliterating Bulma or fucking her whenever she spoke to him, so whatever came out of your mouth was in no way expecting to end up anywhere with him. Besides, who wouldn’t fuck Bulma, right? She was the epitome of beauty. 

But apparently Vegeta didn’t agree with you, or so it seemed. Not by the way he was looking at you. You were either about to be destroyed, or fucked. Hopefully the latter. 

“You damned woman,” Vegeta spat, with a hand to your shoulder, pushing you against the cool floor, making you wince. “I’m fucking tired of your disgusting comments towards me, and now you come in here, interfering with my training!”

“I literally just came to check if you wanted to eat something…” You rolled your eyes, feigning innocence. 

“Repeat your exact words.” Vegeta pressed with narrowed eyes, digging his fingers harder on your shoulder.

“I go nuts over your candy ass…” You whispered very quietly, not because you were embarrassed, but you knew you’d laugh if you repeated it louder. “It was such an easy joke!”

“Vulgar woman!” Vegeta’s frown got deeper as his face got closer to you, and you shivered once you noticed how mad he truly was. “Vulgar pathetic little woman.”

“Ok, are you gonna keep insulting me?” You glared at him despite your nerves. 

“You deserve far worse.”

“I just said you had a cute butt! Bulma has said worse stuff, so why are you so mad at me?!”

A low growl rumbled deep inside Vegeta’s chest, and for a second you thought that was it, your life was over. But the hand on your shoulder moved swiftly towards your neck, only tightening to make you look at him with eyes wide open, still allowing you to breathe normally. Both of your hands went to grab his forearm on instinct, afraid he was actually going to choke you to death. 

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” 

“Huh?”

“I cannot stand the sight of you!” Vegeta raised his voice as his eyes got significantly darker. “You’re distracting, parading around in the most indecent tiny clothes, and you expect me to remain impassive!”

You arched your eyebrow as he went on; he was talking about the few times you bathed in the pool at Bulma’s house. But you didn’t even remember seeing him around then.

“And now you come in here, disturbing me with your presence-”

“I don’t understand.”

“Are you so dense you don’t speak your own language?” He retorted with a sardonic smirk. 

“You’re such a jerk, no! I mean I don’t get why you’re so pissed! I wasn’t even doing that ‘parading around’ on purpose! And if it bothers you so much, I won’t ever do it again!” You added, though you regretted it immediately. You wanted to use Bulma’s pool as long as it was available. 

Vegeta clicked his tongue in annoyance, averting his eyes for a brief moment before looking back at you. 

“You really are a stupid woman.”

Before you could open your mouth to insult him right back, Vegeta firmly pressed his body to yours, and as he stared into your eyes with a faint blush on his cheeks, you couldn’t help the choked out gasp from leaving your lips. 

He was hard. 

It was difficult not to notice as he pushed his crotch against your lower abdomen for a fleeting moment before pulling back, and curiosity invaded you. Was that why he was so pissed off? You had been unintentionally turning him on? You didn’t think he would pay so much attention to you, especially when you rarely even saw him; he spent most of his time training in the stupid gravity chamber you both were currently at. 

Apparently Vegeta had been looking at you much more than you thought.

“Is this your way of telling me you like me?” You asked, between shy and smug. 

“Like you?” Vegeta frowned, but you noticed how red the tip of his ears were. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Yeah, you say that, but you are the one pinning me down and pushing yourself onto me, so.”

The twitch in his eyebrow almost made you laugh if it wasn’t for the intense glare he had in his gaze. 

“You make it impossible for me to focus, your indecency is so disgusting-”

“I’m not even doing anything right now!” His hand around your throat squeezed lightly and swiftly, making you choke on the last syllable. You pouted, trying to push his buttons a little more. “So I make you hard on the regular, why is that bad?”

“Why is that-” Vegeta splurted, embarrassed. 

“Wanna show me?” You smiled, teasingly. 

Your hand on his forearm softly traveled up his arm and down his side, and your grin got wider when you noticed the blush expanding towards his face. Vegeta slapped your hand once it got to his waist and you couldn’t help but giggle. 

“You do not deserve to touch me.” Vegeta stated, still a little red, but obviously frustrated. 

“Maybe I should show you something myself then.”

When your hands slid down your front to grip your shirt, you expected Vegeta to stop you; he had been so scandalized when you tried to touch him that you figured he might prevent you from going further. But to your amusement, his eyes fixated on your moves as you pushed your shirt up until it was bunching up over your chest, presenting your breasts covered with lace. 

At least you put on a nice bra that day.

A sense of superiority washed over you when he didn’t avert his eyes. You didn’t think you would get his attention, but after everything he said you wanted to take a little advantage of him. 

You wanted to see him. 

“You’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you?” You started, looking into his eyes when his gaze met yours again. His eyebrow twitched, but he didn’t reply. “You pictured me underneath you like I am right now, right?”

“You have no idea what I’ve been thinking about.”

“Then tell me.”

You smiled slyly, though Vegeta remained surprisingly impassive. Aside from the blush that still adorned his face. He removed his hand from your neck, and you found that you would have liked it if he kept it there; there was something alluring about it. The fabric of his glove touched the exposed skin of your waist, a very chaste gesture, though his eyes were fixed on your boobs. 

“Do you touch yourself, Vegeta?” You asked when he stayed silent for longer than you expected. You were going to get something out of him, for sure. 

“To my own shame, yes.” He replied, completely serious. You didn’t think he would admit it so easily and without protesting. “More frequently every time you are around.” 

The resentment in his voice only amused you more; who would be so angry because they’re horny?

Probably someone who wasn’t getting laid. 

“You told me not to touch you, but I’m still showing myself to you, Vegeta.”

He didn’t need you to explain what you meant, his gaze growing darker as he took off his glove before pulling his pants down enough to expose his cock. Your eyes immediately darted downwards, looking at his cock with a gleam; he was hard and thick, thicker than you expected when he wrapped his hand around his own erection.

“Are you really offering yourself to me, woman? Are you that obscene?” Vegeta asked, mocking you.

“Vegeta, I’ve been teasing you all this time because you’re hot and I like you.” You looked him in the eye briefly, letting him know you were honest. “Not that you need the ego boost.”

“I could kill you.”

“But you’re touching yourself instead.”

A smirk formed on his face just as he started stroking himself. 

“I suppose I could use you, since you’re so kind to present your body to me like this.” Vegeta said, voice still surprisingly calm even though his moves over his erection were firm. “If you must know, you have been on my mind since I got here.”

Your eyes, that had been focusing on his hand as he masturbated, looked up at him. 

“I pictured you as you are now, completely subdued underneath me, and for once you’re too overwhelmed to even utter one word out of that dirty mouth of yours.”

You rolled your eyes; of course a guy like this would have a thing for control. And you don’t mind submitting every now and then, but not without putting up a little bit of a fight. It simply wasn’t in your nature to be docile. 

But you were currently trying to rile him up more, show yourself off to him so he could see what could be his if he simply made a little effort. So your hands skimmed across your tummy, steadily trailing upwards until you hooked your fingers underneath your bra before slowly lifting it up, your breasts bouncing free right in front of him. The sharp intake of breath Vegeta took was audible as he stared at your chest and it only made your sense of superiority grow larger. 

“You wicked woman…” He said, voice shaky as he picked up the pace, his hand moving in rough, fast tugs. “You’ve been tempting me on purpose this whole time.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” You answered with fake innocence, though you were sincere. 

“Liar.” Vegeta smirked, his breathing turning rugged with each move of his hand over his cock.

When you fixed your gaze on his cock, already leaking precum as his hand worked faster, you couldn’t help but press your thighs together, trying to create a little friction to alleviate your own arousal. Vegeta’s face was twisted, brows furrowed in a different way than usual, and the blush on his cheeks only made him look vulnerable, a contrast to his usual stoic demeanor. It was turning you on so much to see him like that, and the slick sounds produced from his own strokes was just adding fuel to the fire in your loins. 

You wanted to touch him so bad, and when the precum dripped onto your abdomen, you let out a breathy moan. His eyes were on your face, but you could only watch his hand moving firmly over his erection, trying to bring himself to completion, as more drops kept pooling around your belly. He was grunting and groaning surprisingly quietly, and you suspected that’s how he usually did it when he was alone. 

“You’re thinking about fucking me hard and fast, aren’t you? Maybe even using my tits instead of straight up putting it inside me.” You purred, pushing your breasts together, and making his eyes stare directly at your chest. 

“Is that what you want?” Vegeta asked between groans, smiling wickedly. “To be used by me?”

“Only if I get to use you as well.”

Vegeta let out what was probably a snort, attempting to dismiss your comment, but it only came out as a shaky grunt. He was getting louder and if you had to take a guess, he was just a few seconds away from coming. 

Emboldened by the sounds he was making and the expression on his face, you reached down with one of your hands, wrapping it carefully over the one he had around his cock. He didn’t push you away, only groaned, and let you move in sync with him. 

It only took a few harsh strokes to make Vegeta reach his end, and he growled louder and hoarser than ever before as he spilled his cum all over your stomach, a few droplets even reaching your chest, burning up your skin, making you moan. He let go of his cock then, but you didn’t, helping him ride out his high, moving your hand up and down carefully until he stopped leaking. He grunted and gasped, jaw tense and brows furrowed as he tried to catch his breath. 

You thought he was handsome before, but this side of him, the faces he had made the whole time, only made him much enticing, and you couldn’t wait to see more of him.

Vegeta looked at you with eyes still very much dark and clouded, and you could only smile. 

“Wanna know what I’ve been thinking about when I touch myself?” You asked him, hooking your fingers on the waistband of your pants to pull them down along with your completely soaked underwear. 

[3liza]

a lot of people INCLUDING DOCTORS are completely unaware of this but it's not that uncommon for people to get so stressed out they will have a seizure, without being epileptic.

these people can experience any of the symptoms of seizure but will get a negative result on the standard epilepsy tests. this is the epilepsy foundation website and is not a bullshit website, this is actual epilepsy experts and advocates saying "you can have seizures from being too sad, too traumatized, or too stressed". unfortunately a lot of doctors will hear a patient report this, test them for epilepsy, and when the tests are negative, stop the diagnostic process there because they just don't know what else it could be or how to help their patient. bad doctors will make a mental note than the patient is hysterical* and/or malingering. terrible doctors will start diagnosing them with personality disorders that will prevent the patient from receiving adequate care later on (histrionic personality disorder, borderline, bipolar, etc). well, it can just be stress and trauma.

but it's pretty simple, sometimes even non-epileptic brains can overload and boil over and trigger cataplexy, muscle spasms, absence episodes, hallucinations, and all the rest of the seizure behaviors. one of the papers I read on Psychogenic Non-epileptic Seizure (lmao PNES) mentioned that diagnosis alone was sufficient to significantly reduce or completely cure a lot of cases, presumably because if you know what's happening to you in a psychogenic illness and why, a huge burden of fear and stress is lifted from the disease process. unfortunately the combination of all these factors (tests negative for epilepsy, caused by psychological stress, resolves when diagnosed) produces an impression of the patient "faking it". this is true of most psychogenic illness because our culture doesn't consider the processes of the brain to be "real", but again, I have to emphasize, this is the official epilepsy foundation website and they have no reason to blow smoke up anyone's ass about this

* they're technically correct, hysteria as a classical diagnosis before it got turned into "she's making it up" documented a lot of these same symptoms, including the "hysterical arch" posture of a patient experiencing a full body spasm seen sometimes in stress seizures

[vonlycaonwife]

Heyo!! Welcome to my ZZZ blog! Y'all can just call me Aj.

Here I write, draw, and ramble about anything related to the game. But especially about Lycaon (not that anyone should be surprised because of the blog name lmao)

Info on my zzz sona AJ

Writing requests are: Closed!

Drawing requests are: Closed!

Here's some simples rule for this blog

-I work very slowly but I'll try my best to get requests/suggestions done as soon as I can. -I have a right to refuse any request or suggestion for any reason -I'm better at writing for afab readers but if requested I'll try my best to do amab readers, but note if there is no specification I'll automatically assume afab with they/them pronouns -Please specify whether you want hcs or a oneshot/drabble! If there isn't a specification then I'll most likely do hcs since those are easier and faster to write! -Referring to the last rule, I must clarify that oneshots will take me significantly longer to write than hcs. So I apologize if you don't see yours done as fast as other's. -If you don't have a request/suggestion, you're allowed to just simp or talk about the characters in my inbox! I want to curate a friendly x reader/yume space for others who love the characters like me! -Not all posts will be writing fyi, sometimes I'll randomly simp over characters or post a drawing of my yumes. I'll have separate tags for those so people who aren't interested in seeing that can block them!

What I'm okay writing for

Sfw stuff, like fluff or angst Nsfw Dark themes, like dub/non-con or yandere (will be given proper warnings for those who are uncomfortable with these)

Characters I'm fine with writing for (for now, more will be added once I get a feel for them)

Wise Belle Nicole Anby Billy Nekomata Koleda Ben Anton Grace Lycaon Corin Alexandrina Ellen

I'm very unsure on the personalities of the other known characters, I'm way better at grasping a character when I see them in action story wise

Tags I'll be using

AJ rambles: me just rambling/simping over characters or the game in general

AJ chats: chatting with anons and non request asks

Pillow talk: anything nsfw (ramblings, writings, or posts about my ocs/yumes)

AJ yumes: specific posts about my yumes with various characters from the game

AJ ocs: specific posts about my ocs for the game

Also! If you want to friend me on the game, I'm in the American server with my UID being 1000510299!

[kfaem]

Tied || Sylus Qin Love and Deepspace

pairing: Sylus x MC (Luna Do) cw: child experimentation, violence. future established relationship, spoilers for the chapter 9 (obviously) notes: just some headcanons/theories i guess. i started writing this a while back but never really got to it. im sorry that this kinda sucks. i finished writing this when i was a few drinks in and proper grammar kinda skipped my mind lmao tags per request <3 @iwillpissyourpants @lizzetmv

It was hurting again, that familiar ache in her chest that usually made Zayne tense up. She glanced in the mirror of her lover's bedroom, gently pulling down her shirt to look at the scar right over her heart.

The scar had long since faded, hidden from a far away glance but oh so noticeable when she was looking for it. She always wondered why the scar looked so...unprofessional, like her surgeries were all done in some kind of cheap lab. Grandma would never tell her, just brushing her off and repeating the same line she's heard all her life. "That's what it looked like after the attack happened, sweetheart."

When she met Sylus and his team, including a former researcher who was apart of her Grandmother's team all those years ago, it all came together. The lab that remained untouched on the outskirts of the N109 Zone, the weird, dated technology that was ripped from the walls and thrown all over.

After she gained the Aether Core and memories came to her, she could never look at Grandma the same.

"Josephine, they're not as weak as you think they are, if we keep them linked to the same machine for just a bit longer-"

"This is no longer a medical research trial, we're torturing these children and you know it." Josephine, a woman in her late 50's couldn't bare to see the barely moving heart monitors, the scarce beeping giving her nightmares. "Even if they're bound together- what life will they have?"

Sylus was about 13 years old, newly orphaned due to the wanderer attacks that brutalized his home. Luna was 9 years old and the only survivor from her neighbourhood. Sylus clenched his jaw, wanting nothing more than to rip all the stupid wires off of himself, but then she squeezed his hand, turning her head to him. "Sy?"

"Yes Lune?" He whispered, not wanting to attract the scientists outside the door. "Don't talk too loud remember? They get mad whenever we interrupt them."

"...I know." She whimpered in response, her tiny hand holding his even tighter than before. "Sy?" He hummed. "Are we gonna die here?"

"I don't know, maybe." Is what he considered saying, but he knew better than that now. "No Lune, we're gonna be just fine." He was lying to himself.

The lab door opened and both scientists entered the room, one going towards the desk and the other towards their charts. "We should follow through with the implantations tomorrow while the girl is still in good health." The man spoke with certainty, glancing over at Josephine who nodded. "Have we properly decided on...where?"

"Last I recall, we agreed that the boy was to receive the core in his right eye and the girl in her heart." Sylus tensed, realizing that this man was talking about him and the girl beside him. "However, the girl's implant is significantly more likely to go array, we'll have to line up a suitable candidate if she dies during or after the surgery."

Luna began to shake, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. She couldn't speak. Not when Sylus told her not to.

"Tomorrow at noon should be an adequte time to begin the girl's implant, the boy will be much easier and shall require less time."

"Sweetie?" Sylus's deep voice pulled her out of her thoughts, she looked into his crimson eyes, and the scar that she never noticed until after her memories came back to her. "You've been staring in the mirror for a while now, is everything alright?"

Luna let go of her shirt, forcing a smile in her reflection. “Yeah, just… thinking.” Sylus hummed in response, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her head. Luna tightly gripped Sylus’s hands, feeling comfort in his hold. “Can we go back to the lab soon? I just… want to see it again.”

His eyes peered up at their reflection, a sudden glaze coating his usually sly gaze. He moved his hand up her body, slipping it under her shirt and letting his fingers run along the scar over her heart. He sighed, closing his eyes. “It took longer than they anticipated, you weren’t responding well to the Aether Core or any medications they were forcing into you. When they brought you back into the laboratory, you were as good as dead.” His chilly fingers continued to touch the scar, and the skin around it.

“Sylus-“ Luna whispered, feeling the slight trembling at his touch.

“They wouldn’t tell me what was happening, I was sedated and taken back for my own surgery. Once I awoke, you were connected to all sorts of machinery.”

“You were… awake?”

“Barely.” His voice turned hoarse as he recalled the long forgotten memories. “I tried calling for you, the one researcher, Eric, decided to separate us.”

Luna held his hand tighter, watching as his eyebrows furrowed. “What happened then?”

“The Evol linkage appeared, a force so strong that the scientists couldn’t break it- break us, apart.” Sylus ran his free hand down her waist, pressing his lips to her neck. "He was angry and expressed the desire to permanently separate us."

"They...wanted to kill one of us?"

"You, specifically." He hummed, "they said you were weak after your surgery, weak enough that they wanted to reharvest the aether core." Sylus turned her around, his arms pulling her to his chest. "But we don't need to revisit those memories, we're here now, together."

"Right," Luna whispered, pulling him closer. "Thank you for staying alive."

"Only for you, my love."

[voldkat]

guess who figured out how to do botched 3d modeling . and continued doing so for the entire day . to feed the shape autism

this was inspired by the fact that i have hyperspecific headcanons for how the geometry of their heads and antennae . like every time i draw them i picture their shapes in my brain and rotate them . it's so fucked up /silly

also note that none of their face patterns are dented into their heads !!! the website just kinda fucks up and gets confused sometimes when merging shapes lmao all of these mfs have flat faces

sorry unparalleled innocence fans inno is not here again because i am Still trying to figure out its colors ( getting distracted and forgetting to ) . i might make a follow up post with its model if i ever get around to it ( and might model my ocs along with it )

closeups of each iterator ( sorted by age ) + design notes for all of them + the tinkercad project link below the cut :3c

LOOKS TO THE MOON

MEWNIE !!! a fairly normal looking iterator head . spherical shape . flat cylindrical earpieces with slots to support the antennae . doesn't get any more standard than that WEHBHJF

her antennae are very much standard too !! average height , average width , rectangular little things with singular yellow strips near the end . just an average old model during a time when the ancients were still in the middle of figuring things out

and also the circle mark on her forehead looks more like a crescent moon or a pearl in my design . which is very cool ( symbolism for both her name having "moon" in it and the fact that she's in the scholar passage )

SLIVER OF STRAW

ok . her design is also fairly standard but her antennae are a bit Strange . i figure this might be around the time the ancients are starting to experiment a little , but not as intensely as they do with the second gens

the rest of my iterator designs with antennae have sharp bends and are usually flattened prisms or extruded shapes , with the silly color patterns clear and visible on the side faces . sliver however . she's got ROUND !! almost like some sort of stretched out cylinder !!! AND her color patterns are on the top face and actually dented into the antennae , making it hard to spot them !!!! what a fucked up design . why is she like this /silly

nothing else of note to say tho so we're moving on :3c

CHASING WIND

WE'RE IN GEN 2 NOW GUYS !!! i actually Don't have a hyperspecific headcanon on what their antennae look like so i just eyeballed it based on how i usually draw them . they're certainly a weird shape . rectangular-ish prism thing that gets wider at the top with an ellipse cut out of it . and the color patterns are at the base of the antennae instead of near the top like they usually would be . they look like fucked up bug horns almost

you see the front of the antennae ? where the oval cutout doesnt reach ? yeah . that's not a modelling mistake . that's intentional . there's one little section where the top is nice and flat . what the fuck is up with these tennas /silly

i may give them a secondary pattern on their face later like suns' Lines On Face (/ref) if i feel like making that a signature design choice for gen 2 iterators . but for now all you get is Peculiar Antennae

NO SIGNIFICANT HARASSMENT

OH BOY . EASILY the one with the weirdest head shape . extruded rounded square for a head . screen face . no antennae at all . fucking Gamer Headphones . he was built WAY too different . built correctly ( fit for his purpose ) but also not ( breaks every single known iterator puppet design convention ) /silly j

on a more serious note , his earpieces are significantly thinner ( more flush with his head ) than average , and don't have the antenna notches !! that's the only reasonable comparison i can make tho because he looks SO Fucking Different

there are other little details that i feel i have to mention . like his screen is dented inwards a little . his 'mic' thing isn't touching his face but only by a slim margin . his fucked up eyeball isn't flat or dented in but actually extends out in the shape of a semicircle ish thing . yeah that's about it honestly

SEVEN RED SUNS

okay back to relative normalcy . except the shape of their antennae fucked me up SO bad that it was the sole reason i decided to model these fucks in the first place

they're almost triangular prisms but the outward facing triangle is like slanted inwards slightly . which makes the upright lateral faces weird right trapezoids instead of rectangles . but also they have extra joints at the base of their antennae which allow for more movement !! Thankfully those joints a pretty normal shape ( ordinary cuboid )

also another detail i want to mention is the Lines On Face . the lines bend at 90 degree angles . the left / right sides disappear below the earpieces but the bottom sides kinda just . Stop . after some point . idk that's all i have really

FIVE PEBBLES

AAAAND with gen 3 we've looped back to fairly standard looking !!! he looks just like his sister but with the colors swapped around , and longer thinner antennae . and the fuckass stripes on his face i guess . one of the newest models , yet with little to no thought put into customization , since his creators are getting tired of waiting

it's interesting to me how he's the only design without a symbol logo thing in the middle of his forehead . perhaps the ancients ran out of feasible forehead symbols ? or maybe just a staple of gen 3 iterators ? who knows . all i can do is speculate and make shit up

AND !! as promised , the link , except you'll have to make an account to see it for some reason :

[ay-miphae]

More Pointless Ayreon Statistics.txt

chat i don't know how to preface this one. i'm just obsessed with Ayreon and with pointless data collection

instead of alt text because that would be very verbose i have decided why not link the same spreadsheet but on Google Sheets, this time with a bit more conditional formatting. everybody enjoy (none of the formulas transferred over though)

Basically I went through the entirety of the Source with the object of thinking "huh I wonder how long each character appears for and if it bears any significance" so the part of the table highlighted in green is the length of each character's appearance (in seconds) per song.

At the bottom of the green section is the total number of seconds each character appears, the total number of songs they appear on, average time per song (the green and yellow row), and then overall percentage.

To the right I wanted to see how many characters appeared on each song, and it's not an exact measure but the percentage of the song that is and isn't vocals (% instrumental is the yellow and green column)

Also the pie chart just graphs the length of each character's appearance.

Random observations here:

Dream Dissolves is the most instrumental by far (makes sense) followed by the most vocal (Deathcry). Tbf Deathcry has a lot of shared choruses and I forgot to account for that (like when multiple characters are singing at the same time). also might be worth redoing this data now that I'm much more familiar with when and for how long each character appears. (this consisted of me sitting in front of Excel with a stopwatch for multiple hours yes)

TH-1 only appears on 7 songs (average is close to 9, like pretty consistently) but when he does he sings a lot. Particularly his binary string and Everybody Dies and March of the Machines.

The ones who appear on more than 9 songs are Captain, Biologist, and Diplomat, so do with that what you will

Why does Astro get far less time per song than everybody else please do my boy some justice

Prophet is halfway done with his vocals by the end of Sea of Machines it's like he just dips for the last three chronicles lmao

Surprisingly the character who shows up the most is Diplomat! I wonder why that is, maybe he's just the closest to an everyman on the album so it makes sense that we're seeing a lot of events from his perspective?

Then Captain and TH-1. It tracks tbh

Chemist in the top 4 is a surprise, then again a lot of his vocals are like slow melodic segments. OL and Bio next don't surprise me either

Preacher at the bottom but we knew that, feeling ripped off that Astro has a whole minute less than Prophet

I keep trying to edit in the detail that "Hansi sings more on Wheel of Time than on this entire album and I thought y'all should know that" but it keeps getting deleted randomly. Tumblr does not want y'all to know that ??

Ok ignore the red tags on these and the name I gave the graph, I was just writing notes to myself to remind myself of who was singing what. 01 has significantly more characters who aren't part of the core council of Forever

I don't have a lot to say on this one, same format and everything. Comatose, Waking Dreams, and River of Time are the most instrumental, Connect the Dots is the most vocal.

Same thing as before, I didn't factor in shared vocals and such except for Sixth Extinction because otherwise it would have been at like 108% vocal I don't think that's possible

PX is just barely on this album lmao. In terms of Forevers, this album is generally a LOT more even with the exception of 𓅛 taking over the whole album (he does... seem like the most central Forever) and ☾ who only appears on two songs (I included Sixth Extinction though) </3 Considering that the Forevers are a hivemind and there's much less character distinctions. A bit surprised that ☯ and R are close to the bottom but the difference isn't that huge...

[spacelazarwolf]

I’m an Italian ger who’s being converted in an Ashkenazi community. I want to connect to my culture so badly!!! Is there any books you’d recommend, Italki food you love, or special rituals you do on Shabbat / during the week that are influenced by being Italian? I’d love to introduce more into my own practice!!

yeah! also this ended up being probably more in depth than you were asking for so apologies lmao.

so for some context (in case you or anyone reading this is not already aware), italki jews are a specific group of jews within italy. italki isn't like a nationality, so it's not a synonym for "italian jew", it's more like a regional identity. people from rome, naples, and venice are all italian, but they're also roman, neapolitan, and venetian. even if they move somewhere else, they'll likely still retain that regional identity. italy didn't become a unified republic until 1871, so culture and language and food varied a lot by region (which it still does), and that's true of jewish communities too, especially those that came from other places.

italki jews are jews who were brought to italy by the romans or traveled to rome to be merchants, and have been there since roman times. ashkenazi jews came during the middle ages, primarily settling in the north in places like venice. it's very worth noting that ashkenazim in italy, with the exception of one or two communities, have significantly different musical tradition, pronunciation, language, and food than other ashkenazi communities. sephardi jews came mostly after the expulsion from spain and portugal, though there were some living in sicily and southern italy.

with all that in mind, i'd definitely recommend doing some research into the demographics of the jewish community in the place you or your family is from. if you already live there, it should be much easier!

resources:

the jews in italy- their contribution to the development and diffusion of jewish heritage

cookbooks by edda servi machlin (she has several, but some are hard to find)

cucina ebraica

i highly recommend checking out torah.it. it's a fantastic archive of recordings and pdfs all about italian jewry. you will spend hours there and still have only scratched the surface.

rabbi barbara aiello also has a lot of different resources.

i highly recommend checking out the work of leo levi for research on italian jewish music. he spent years interviewing and recording chazzanut, scholars, and other community leaders and saved so many italian jewish melodies from complete extinction. (i believe all these recordings are uploaded to torah.it as well)

primo levi is another italian jew to research. he wrote many books that are available for purchase, including a memoir about his survival in auschwitz. there is also an institute in his name dedicated to the preservation, study, and celebration of italian judaism.

ensemble bet hagat put out an album of reimagined italian jewish music a few years ago and i believe they are also working on a second one. it is beautiful.

anyway that's probably enough nerding out, i can get to the more personal stuff and answering the actual questions you asked me now lmao.

right now, it's just me in my apartment so there's a lot of traditions i can't do, but if you have family or friends you can invite over, there are a lot of lovely traditions you can incorporate. i use a three branched candelabra for my shabbat candles. the middle candle is lit first and used to light the other two, as you would with hanukkah candles. if you have multiple people at your table, you can give them their own individual candles, in which case you will light the shamash (middle candle), pass it around the table for each person to light their individual candle, then the host will light the two other candles.

for food, i love making riso del sabato. it's a risotto dish with saffron and it is delicious. there's also a pumpkin ravioli in brown butter and sage sauce in cucina ebraica that is to die for.

[yourhighness6]

NATLA Debrief: Episode 3 (by yours truly)

Hi again! If any of ya'll are interested here's episodes 1 and 2. Thank you to those who have been following these deranged, unorganized posts, especially @phoebester (Just an fyi this will be hella long, just like the other two)

First of all, the way they framed the opening resistence scene was genuinely so cool because I immediately thought back to the cold open for the first episode. The streets are so similar that's where my mind went RIGHT AWAY and if that is not good set design and filming I don't know what is.

The resistance scene was so powerful for so many reasons besides those small details, too. The concept of a resistance within the FN was never addressed at all within the cartoon and I can't express how glad I am that they added this. It just makes logical sense that some people would resist, especially while so many are dying in war, and it really serves to humanize the FN people in a way that's reminiscent of book 3 ATLA. Perfect way to expand on the source material and introduce core themes earlier in the show (M Nite should be taking notes).

It was also a perfect way to introduce both Ozai and Azula's characters. Ozai is this menacing figure stepping out of the shadows (quite literally), an almost larger than life villain who seems to have every move planned and everything calculated. He's brutal and efficient and we can see that. Azula is conniving and smart, the kind of girl who can fool anyone and come out on top, but is ultimately still a weapon under her father's control. You can tell from the moment Ozai mentions Zuko that she is the underdog, but she is determined that it will not stay that way, and she seems just terrifying enough to succeed. (also idc what anyone says Elizabeth Yu has mastered Azula's look and general vibe. I feel like the whole 'miscasting' debacle was a mix of fatphobia and being shown the wrong stills before the show came out. She looked sort of sweet and innocent in those but I get absolutely none of that from this scene)

Ugh the exposition was great and then they have to give us this. What the absolute hell did they do to my Katara? Like there was a whole ass episode in the cartoon devoted to her getting mad because she wasn't progressing as fast as Aang and then in this fucking adaptation the maddest she sounds is when she emotionlessly declares, "I don't get it" to convey mild frustration. I'm sorry Kiawentiio, you're acting is great but the writers clearly have no fucking idea how to put your emotional range to good use. The same problem was present in the last episode and I just don't see them being able to fix it significantly enough at this point, even if they have a desire to. Not to undermine that, but there were a couple good points in this scene: Aang mentions something about bending being "beyond thought" which gives bending a more spiritual aspect that I like, and Katara's PTSD is brought up again in an intelligent way, but still, that doesn't matter if they're going to completely butcher her character. (side note: when is Aang going to learn waterbending? they haven't shown him training at all and I'm getting worried)

This scene was fine or whatever but what in the absolute fuck is going on with Zuko and Zhao? Are they not going to do the agni kai? Like I know there's still animosity there but they were really just sitting there (semi)-calmly enjoying a cup of tea and demonstrating only mild dislike for each other. All I have to say is if they remove the agni kai altogether I'm gonna be so fucking pissed it'll bug me forever and I'll be fucking insufferable.

Also Zuko is so mean to Luitenient Jee for no reason. I know it's because his abuse makes him see any kind of comradery as weakness so it's a good detail if that's what they're going for but ngl I also find it a bit funny. Like what did he ever do to you? And Zhao taking three tries to pass his officer exam is so perfect too like what a fucking looser lmao.

Ba Sing Se looks beautiful. There's something so mystical about it, especially in the way Aang describes it as they walk up to the gate. It's this hub of culture and science and art, but it's also incredibly militaristic and so changed due to war it's almost unrecognizable to someone who was there a hundred years ago. The adaptation of cultures during times of change is something ATLA does so well and I'm glad to see that it's continuing in the LA.

AHH Katara was so awkward during this whole scene and I loved it. For one thing Sokka's commentary was absolutely hilarious but it's also this reminder that Katara has been relatively isolated from other children her age and her brain is like "cute boy flirt how" and its so fucking funny. It might not be the same Katara as the cartoon who is effortlessly comfortable wherever she goes but this is so much more realistic and if she's going to be a bit different this is probably the best thing for them to change (now keep the awkwardness and give her back her anger Netflix I'm begging you)

I am slightly concerned because it looks to me like they're trying to condense at least four episodes into one and I'm not sure if that's going to be a cohesive plotline or a complete mess or not but if handled carefully I think they might be able to pull it off.

Ooooh the explosion was super unexpected and totally cray cray thanks for keeping me on my toes. I'm assuming it was Jet that planted the bomb although I cannot for the life of me think why. Anyways Teo was adorable I'm adopting him.

Also I am so so so happy that they gave him a little more depth beyond just 'happy glider kid' and gave a bit more nuance to his character. Of COURSE kids who grew up in war are going to be desensitized to the bloodshed OF COURSE they're going to be a little vengeful and be thinking about ways to win the war OF COURSE Aang is going to be uncomfortable with that because he didn't grow up with that militaristic mindset even if he did loose everything OF COURSE that's not going to change the fact that kids grow up hearing about death and experiencing loss as extremely young children versus Aang being suddenly thrust into this responsibility and grief because he didn't grow up like that he grew up in peacetime it just makes sense. Good job Netflix this was wonderful this was perfect I loved it.

Okay don't get me wrong I love the way Aang wears his heart on his sleeve I love how their in-the-face storytelling makes a bit more sense with how open and emotional of a person he is it's just part of his character that was improved upon by the LA in my opinion but this is also just... such a misunderstanding of the group dynamic. Like why isn't Katara seeing these people and thinking "I can help with this I have to help with this" and Aang giving this speech to Sokka jumping on the bandwagon? I would even accept them seeing the destruction together and mutually deciding that they need to help the people there (this would probably be best as it allows us to see both character's compassion) or Aang saying something about it and Katara immediately being like "ur absolutely right" but of course they can't do that all we need is a lengthy speech from the protagonist while Katara stands there like robot girl. My mistake.

STOP because her mocking face is so fucking perfect I love Elizabeth Yu she's perfect. Anyway, I think that they're kind of... adjusting her trauma a bit? I mentioned earlier how I feel like she's shown as a little more scrappy and an underdog as opposed to perfectly calculating and not a hair out of place, but after this scene I feel the need to expand on that. In the cartoon, Azula's abuse from her father centers around his unattainably high expectations for her that eventually cause her ultimate breakdown and the conclusion to her devastating character arc. But in the LA, they're portraying her as less of a prodigy and more of a hard worker. She still has incredibly high expectations, but in this version, she never meets them all the time. Her brother is almost leveraged against her in a way. Even if she feels like she is the best and has the constant need to prove she is the best to her father, there's always going to be this nagging insecurity that she won't be good enough to measure up to her brother. She's not being told she's worthless like Zuko, but she's not reaching every goal like cartoon Azula, either. This also might explain why she has arrows. In the cartoon, weapons are viewed with disdain by firebenders, making Zuko using them so controversial, but Azula definetely doesn't seem to be hiding her talent for the bow and arrow and even if it was a her-sneaking-away-to-practice sort of situation that's not very in character and I don't think she would do that. I think in this version she probably has them because she's trying to find every possible way to prove herself to her father beyond just firebending, and mastering a weapon is a way to do that. I'm not sure how I feel about these changes but she is clearly a different character in this version than in the cartoon and moving forward I'm going to treat her as such. (I've noticed this a bit with all of the characters except possibly Sokka: they're different people. I think this actually might be intentional. [even so I still don't like their characterization of Katara her trauma hasn't changed very much to my knowledge she should still have the same core drives and character traits])

As well done as Azula was, there was relatively nothing in the Ty Lee and Mai department. They're just kind of existing, watching her train. Ty Lee is vaguely cheerful (and her costume is great btw) and Mai has one line about exploring the world that gives a bit of insight into her character and has a monotone voice. They're both clearly a little scared of Azula but that's basically it. Hopefully we get more on them soon.

Back in Ba Sing Se, I noticed a bit of a parallel between Teo and Katara. The Mechanist mentions that they lost his mother due to the war, which reminded me specifically of Katara. Throughout this scene, we see that Teo remembers his mother's philosophy and adopts it into his own mindset far more than his father's. Their situation is different because while Katara is arguing for compassion Teo is arguing for fighting back, but they are both fundamentally saying the same thing. It's not enough just to accept their lot in life and try to survive or fight, it's about the big picture, and about defending the things they love. While Katara and Teo both approach this subject from a very different front, the core idea is the same. It's also telling how they are dismissed initially as idealistic for their values when they are really upholding what their mothers stood for in their eyes: for Teo, a symbol of hope in her retellings of the stories of the avatar, and for Katara, a symbol of kindness in her reminders to remain empathetic despite the horrors of war. Make of this what you will, I just thought it was a nice little parallel.

Anyway, allow me to have a few words on the whole Jet thing (in bullet points because I don't have enough brain power to do this)

I'm glad Jet got his freedom fighters outfit. I was a bit worried when I saw what he was wearing in the first scene he was in because the fit is iconic, and so are the swords

God he's so fucking dramatic "they call me Jet" while the sun glints off his swords and he turns slightly for affect it was so funny I laughed out loud

He and Kia have no on-screen chemistry I'm sorry. Like even the fight scene was so awkward and every time they speak to each other they sound so stiff. They're good actors independently but whoever was watching their chemistry check (I'm assuming they had one pre-production but judging by this crap I wouldn't be surprised if they didn't) was either asleep or it was their first day because there is NOTHING there

What the hell did they do to the Freedom Fighters? They're so cheesy and the costumes are so bad (especially Smellerbee's). Like seriously that entire fight scene was so awkward idk what the hell happened there but it was nowhere near the quality of the rest of the episode so far

Overall, I'm not a huge fan. Also where is Sokka I'm pretty sure he's supposed to be there somewhere

Okay here's Sokka finally. Are they just taking him out of the Jet shenanigans entirely? I wouldn't be surprised considering how many episodes they had to condense but still I would have liked to see that. Oh well, I guess they had to have Katara do something in this episode instead of just stand around while her brother and Aang have huge plot points. Anyway, this scene was very interesting to me. Sokka and the Mechanist bonded in the og but not to this extent, and I honestly liked that they did something a bit deeper with it considering they don't have as much screentime to establish Sokka's daddy issues (for lack of a better word). Anywho the Mechanist mentioning that there are other career paths to take besides just being a warrior was super cool and I think we can glean a lot from it about Sokka's future character arc. Maybe in this version he doesn't perfectly live up to his dad's expectations and instead finds his own way? It was nice to see Hakoda proud of him in the original but if they go down this path I definitely won't be mad. It's interesting while staying true to the character, it's just a different direction.

The scene with Aang and Teo was cute. They're both good actors who play off of each other nicely, and Teo talking about how he doesn't want to follow in his father's footsteps lends a bit of insight to the conversation the Mechanist had with Sokka. He probably mentioned Sokka's dad because he wondered if his parents were engineers too and maybe is looking for a bit of an apprentice since his son doesn't take after him as much. This is also another way Teo conflicts with the Mechanist's way of life and may be more similar to his mother.

The jetara scenes at the Freedom Fighter camp had a much better dynamic. I think the fight scene was probably just them figuring each other out as actors, it just sucks that it seeped into the final take. I confess I was a bit disappointed that the Freedom Fighters didn't live up in the trees, but I guess that would be a bit difficult to engineer. I also noticed how Jet repeated Teo's "if not us, then who?" statement, which is probably just your basic commentary on how the future generations are our hope blah blah blah. It's a major theme so I shouldn't be as disinterested as I am in it but as it stands I'm still not totally thrilled with the Jet plotline as a whole and I think that may be affecting it. I feel like Sokka should be here to add some variety and spice things up a bit it's kind of boring.

The last jetara scene was definitely the best yet. I can't get over how happy I was to hear Jet say his mother taught him to fight. So often we hear how dads or older brothers are teaching the women in their family to fight but here we have a canonically badass male character saying that an older female relative was the one who taught him. One of the major complaints I have from the cartoon was how for all its talk about women being able to fight and its supposed feminist message, there were no women of the older generation fighting at all except for Jun, who wasn't even a particularly moral character like all these older men. We do have to remember that the cartoon started production over twenty years ago so it is a product of its time, when feminist issues weren't very mainstream. Another factor that might have contributed to the lack of feminism in the original was the generational discrepancies; millennials were the first to have widely accepted equal educational opportunities in the US, and even though educational opportunities are still affected by sexism, college became the norm for both male and female students at that time. This isn't to say women older than millennials didn't go to college, but this is around the time women and men started to become relatively equal as of percentage seeking higher education. Basically, they were the first generation of women expected to have careers, and therefore the writer's minds were probably shaped alongside a similar number of female peers, but primarily by men. This could have contributed to the lack of older women, but as times changed, so to did the amount of older women in professional fields. This line is a reflection of that, and I hope we continue to see more badass older women and older warrior women and women in power as the LA continues.

Other than that, I did take my shipping goggles out during this scene at the "sunrise" bit, and it wasn't about jetara. I heard from other fans in the zutara tag that the "you rise with the moon, I rise with the sun" line was removed but I keep thinking about how Katara is legitimately drawing power from remembering the sun rising, a time when the opposite element, Zuko's element, becomes more powerful. I know I'm reaching, but while I mourn the loss of our beloved "you rise with the moon, I rise with the sun" I have to find a new version. Anyway I think we should call this sunrisegate lol

Also, the way Katara is extremely hesitant to talk about her trauma whereas Jet seems completely fine with being emotional and dumping out exactly what he was feeling may have been a device but it does remind me of something I read about how ppl with PTSD will often react very differently when sharing their trauma and the same is true for many other trauma induced disorders. It was probably unintentional but I still thought it was a nice detail.

Anyway on a less serious note Iroh and Zuko's dynamic is still top tier. I've seen a lot of people complaining about Iroh's character but I don't see anything wrong up to this point. I might be in for a shock in future episodes but I have genuinely no idea what they find so off putting. He's a great actor and the character has legitimately not changed. The line above was a bit undercut by the fact that he's standing in the middle of an enemy city with a cloth half wrapped around his face to keep part of his face from being seen, but I'm just gonna take it at face value (haha pun). I think the thing Zuko despises most is cowardice, and it affects his perception of the war in a huge way. He calls Aang a coward for escaping from prison because he was running away or whatever and I've never considered Zuko a particularly logical character but it's like... bruh he's outnumbered like fifty to one what he is gonna do? Anyway his definition of cowardice is directly tied to his honor and his perception of it in relation to his trauma and the way he held back in the agni kai and him perceiving that as cowardice maybe... Ya'll got me? This isn't fully formed because I obviously haven't seen this new rendition of the agni kai but I'm guessing the events are basically the same. Do with it what you will.

I skipped over the Azula and Zhao scene because I don't have any groundbreaking commentary except to say that I liked it. It ties Azula into the story nicely and gives Zhao something actually interesting about him (I don't hate him as much as I did in the cartoon so whenever he comes up on screen I just sort of yawn).

Anyway, it was nice to see Katara get a bit angry. I think this captured the gaang dynamic pretty well. Aang being relatively neutral/ quiet while the siblings argue and Katara gets twice as mad as Sokka. Also he may have had the last word but she had the last laugh:

Again, the sibling dynamic was really great but I didn't feel like Katara was carrying it as much as in previous episodes. Sokka actually played his part in making it interesting and realistic. I don't think this single argument is enough to redeem Katara's characterization in my eyes but at least we know now there is a little spark there.

AHH THE SCARF SCENE! Scarfgate was everything I could have asked for and more. Like why does he appear directly behind her like that unless he's trying to fight her? Why does he just let her go by like that? Why does he hold out his hand in the first place? Truly is the Watergate of our time it deserves that name. (also in the same episode as the whole sunrise thing? come on) I'm probably being baited but at least I'm enjoying it.

So I was right about the bombings! I can't believe all those cute little kids are terrorists but I couldn't believe it in the cartoon either so I guess that checks out. Either way I find the bombing far less forgivable than trying to take out the Mechanist. Innocent civilians were hurt and even though I know there was a real possibility that civilians could have been hurt in the attempted bombing for whatever reason it just seems... more brutal somehow. Like the first one was in the center of town, you know? Anyway terrorism is wrong I hope Jet finds his way.

(I was worried about how they were going to tie all the seemingly unrelated plotlines together but I think they pulled it off. Again my main problems were all concentrated around the Jet plotline but when the Mechanist was tied in it became a lot more interesting)

When I heard this I was like "son ur about to get ur ass kicked" but the funny part is he was kind of right. Like when neither of them were bending he was winning. I guess in all fairness he is a lot bigger than Aang but I don't feel like that was an accidental detail. Anyway, I think this fight scene was the most entertaining yet and so much better than jetara against the firebenders earlier. Maybe the affects for water are just worse than air and fire (it feels slower somehow) but I'm very partial to this fight. And that's saying something because I usually fast-forward through fight scenes or just kind of tune them out or barely watch, so you know it was really good.

I think the reason I liked it so much was that it was funny, honestly, not in the same way or to the same degree the cartoon was but I laughed out loud a couple times. For instance Zuko gets hit in the face three times in the span of ten seconds, once with a plate, once with a wicker basket, and once with his own little stick thing. Aang also put a basket over his head and some random ass lady started whacking him with a fan. Kudos to whoever choreographed that it was the best.

Also I liked how Sokka and Katara saved the day together. Cute sibling bonding excersize. And it ended on a cliffhanger with the characters separated! My favorite kind of cliffhanger! It definitely left me wanting more.

Anyway, to recap, things I didn't like:

No Zuko and Zhao agni kai

Mai and Ty Lee were just sort of there

Katara's characterization is still so-so

Jetara plot line was boring and chemistry was not the best

It was kind of a lot for one episode, even if they managed to do it well

Things I did like:

Opening scene

Azula characterization

Teo

The Mechanist plotline

Teo and Katara parallel

Katara DID actually seem a little bit more firey in this episode

SCARFGATE

Zuko and Aang fight scene

Surprisingly good handling of all those loose ends

Cliffhanger

Overall, I would give it a 9/10. That's the highest score I've given an episode so far and I'm standing by it. I know others might have a very different opinion on it since it was condensed so much and differed a lot from the cartoon, but I agreed with many of the changes they made. One thing I would urge everyone to remember is that these are different characters from the cartoon. They're going to act slightly different and have slightly different journys and that's okay. I think it is worth comparing to the original, as it is an adaptation, but we need to remember that an adaptation is not an exact replica, nor should it be. That in no way means that we should make allowances for anything we found negative or mediocre, but it is going to be different and change in it of itself isn't a bad thing. Anyway thank you guys so much for sticking with me! I'll probably have the next episode's debrief up by tomorrow.

[loud-sound]

(part 1 of part 2!!)

for shits n giggles, i tried my hand at redesigning dr stone characters (read: three)

i have too many emotions when it comes to this show's character design lmao. a vicious hate-love of the century

a couple of my process notes if anyone's interested: (vague spoilers up to season 3 of the anime)

there's a criminal lack of skin tones that i immediately wanted to take advantage of; and before Certain People start saying race-swapping; none is happening here, it's all just taking account of tanning and sunburns. sunscreen is a thing of the past here and a lot of time is spent outdoors in order to gather food

dramatic shifts in skin tones from what's given at birth happen pretty frequently in real life even with A/C and sunscreen; a huge missed opportunity to play with this in the color department methinks, but here we are (don't even get me started on the massive range of skin tones in east asian genetics alone)

so i played around a bit with contrast, nothing outlandish aside from giving Kohaku noticeable sunburns and freckles from (1) having caucasian blood in her to begin with and (2) not having access to any of the skin products our moderners would have

that being said, realism in the clothing color department was just about entirely thrown out the window. the blue dyes we know about are nowhere (naturally) near Japan, and here Ishigami village is in canon with deep navy on every villager; Inagaki and Boichi decided realism specifically here wasn't as important as color symbolism (which i personally think was a good creative decision), so cut me some slack-

so for colors it was just my personal taste on streamlining the palettes-

Gen in particular i thought would benefit from exposed shoulders without taking away how he needs bigger sleeves to hide shit up there. a lot of the guys have plain shirts and sleeves or just go shirtless entirely and i felt like it'd be fun to have him wear something in between to really push the magician/entertainer vibe

hairstyles were changed mostly to be easier to draw and to make their silhouettes just a bit easier to distinguish from each other. (hair colors were untouched except for Kohaku, purely because i have a personal preference for the more natural blonde color than any actual design significance lmao)

partial exception for Kohaku, cuz it annoyed me that the other characters say she has super thick, unruly hair...but then her hair is drawn no differently from everyone else's 💀

didn't wanna play into the stereotype of naturally curly hair being seen as something to be fixed (especially within the context of a makeover-), so i tried to imply chronically unbrushed hairdsjfsdf

can you tell from how many bullets are here about Kohaku how i feel about her design? last thing: body types.

Gen is supposed to be significantly tall, Kohaku is one of the strongest characters while being one of the shortest; it is very hard to tell that from their designs alone. it's mostly just the limitations of Boichi's art style,,,proportions that's i'm aware is nitpicky, but i wanted to show it here anyway 💀💀💀

smth smth disclaimer about subjectivitydsfsdfsd-

uhhhh, congrats for reading all that, have some silhouettes!

[sakasakiii]

Hi!

I love your work!! Your art is very pretty. Do you have a specific idea of how old everyone is ? Do you lean more towards canon or do you have your own dates in mind ? If don’t wanna a answer it’s ok!

Hope u have a nice day

(Remember to drink water!)

hiiii nonnie!!! thank you for checking in, and im happy u like the stuff i put out!! when it comes to ages, it's difficult to answer sometimes bc of the way professor tolkien's timeline is-- it makes gauging one singular place where most of the cast can be compared something that makes my tired brain go 😵🤧🤕 but i love the prompt youve given! and thus heres my attempt at it

with most of my tolkien stuff, i always try to stick to canon wherever possible emphasis is on try lmao and the topic of ages is one such place. i do make exceptions to the Professor's canon sometimes for a few reasons: 1) i like some of the scrapped ideas in his drafts, or 2) i just prefer other options. with ages, i think the only charas with canon-established ages i deviated from are fingolfin, finrod, turgon, and aredhel. i try to keep cases like these minimal tho, so i hope it doesn't bother anyone too much... 👉👈

anyways i figured just dropping a list of numbers would be kinda boring to look at so heres an illustrated guide to what the ~rough~ ages of the finweans are in my head whenever i write or draw. Y.T. 1495 (the year Finwe dies) is the controlled medium ive used to enable a fair comparison of the Finweans

note: "born Y.T. xxx" means this is the canon date of birth listed on Tolkien Gateway. "est. born [xxx]" means this is a noncanon estimate:

the First Age gets a lot more muddled from there due to the hullaballoo of everything going on, so ill only be including the doriathrim and a few other denizens of nargothrond:

it's mostly the older elves that are more undefined/vague with their ages (i.o.w. others like elwing, earendil, the peredhil twins, and most Men all have set dates of birth), so they're all i'll be doing for now. but it's that vagueness which makes hcing all the more enjoyable, isn't it! plus since we’re on this subject, under the cut are just a few headcanons and musings ive had that i wanted to put somewhere 😙

Finarfin and Earwen were born within months of each other! Finwe and Olwe made a Really Big Deal out of when they found out their wives were pregnant at the same time. As a result, the two were often sent on many playdates with each other to “bolster healthy relations” between the Noldor and the Teleri. It wasn’t an arranged marriage situation, but I like to think they were goofy for each other from the start… Resulting in the two eventually getting married as soon as they came of age, the fastest out of all of Finwe’s kids to do so. 

The reason the Ambarussa are significantly younger than the other Finweans (especially the Feanorians-- there’s a 100 Valian year gap between them and Curufin alone!) is because I imagine they were accidental babies that even Feanor didn’t expect to conceive. too bad morgoth said "its morgin time!" and started Messing Things Up shortly afterwards.....

Anaire was Lalwen's good friend long before she married Fingolfin; they met through Lalwen who wingmanned Fingolfin the whole time. i like think Anaire'd be the best out of all the wives at keeping good, healthy bonds with all the women of her family :DD

luthien's potential 姐姐/big sis dynamic with all the younger doriathrim elves is something i daydream about a lot 😌 but sometimes the fact that she's older than finarfin keeps me up at night

this has been really fun, so thanks again for asking-- annnd yessir, i am chugging water as i write this so you better be doing the same ❤️ have a great start to your week!

[strawberrystepmom]

safety first

pairing: fake osha inspector!jiraiya x restaurant manager f!reader

word count: 2.2k

about: when an inspector unexpectedly comes to your restaurant, you figure out how to get yourself out of trouble.

contents: NSFW - MDNI. reader is referred to with feminine terms and has breasts and a vagina. piv sex, unprotected sex, partially clothed sex, walk in freezer sex, dirty talk, dubcon (just to be safe bc she is fucking him to get out of “trouble” lmao)

notes: this is a repost from my old blog. for my non americans: osha stands for occupational safety and health administration. they come and make sure businesses are meeting safety standards for their employees.

my meager contribution to @bastardblvd's collab. i love this old man and would love for him to stir me up with that hug- *gunshot* okay love you thanks for reading stay sexy!!!!

divider is thanks to @/cafekitsune

“Uh, we have a problem."

You wish the mere sound of that word, problem, didn’t make your skin crawl but between shifts while you prepare for what will almost definitely be a busy Friday night dinner service, it’s the last thing you want to hear. The word is even more unpleasant to hear from your very anxious looking hostess who should be manning her station at the front of your restaurant.

Turning to look at her, you quirk a brow and she visibly shrinks as she approaches you.

“OSHA is here,” she mutters barely louder than a whisper. You blink. Once, twice. Your lips twist into a concerned frown, a crease forming between your brow as you look at her. 

“Excuse me?”

OSHA is here…right now. In your restaurant. Looking for violations of safety rules right before a busy dinner service. Your mind quickly runs through various scenarios that could have prompted the visit - did someone file a complaint? Was there an injury? Panic rises and you instinctively look down at your feet to make sure you wore your non-slip shoes today, a large shadow entering your periphery from behind the young woman standing in front of you.

“Are you the manager of this establishment?” 

The voice of the unfamiliar man booms and you look up, eyes widening as you take him in. He’s big - significantly larger than any man you’ve ever seen and his visage isn’t one you’d usually assign to the inspectors that have come in the past. The sight of him is intimidating enough and then your eye travels to the ID tag clipped on his belt loop, the glint of the plastic protector making you gulp. 

“Yeah, I am,” you nod and swallow again, straightening your posture as you feel him look over you and zero in on your shoes. A breath sticks in your lungs as he flicks his eyes back up toward your face and thrusts his hand in your direction to shake. “Great, my name’s Jiraiya and I’ll be inspecting the premises for any violations today.”

Nervously, your hostess shifts where she stands and you nod your head to give her silent permission to leave. She casts you a glance before scurrying away, leaving you alone with the man in front of you. Thoughts run through your head of how you can best distract him, uncertain of how the condition of your own kitchen stands at this point in time. 

“Can I ask what prompted your visit?” 

Jiraiya looks down at you and you meet his curious glance with a flat stare of your own, mouth in a line. In a futile attempt to seem more intimidating, you fold your arms over your chest and you make a note of the way the corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk while he watches you. He hums, folding his arms over his own broad chest.

“Well,” he starts, voice deep and rich. “We don’t have to notify you prior to arriving and here I am.” 

Your mouth rises in a tight smile and you nod once, tipping your head and blinking at him indignantly.

"On what basis are you here?" He shrugs, arms staying in place over his chest. Nothing about this situation seems normal but you suppose it could be his first day on the job or maybe you missed something - this is the start of the busiest time of year and you hardly have time to keep track of the most important things much less minor safety issues.

"I just go where they tell me, ma'am."

Another nod, another curt smile and you unfold your arms and slap your hands against your thighs.

"Well, tell me what you need to see and I'll show you there." Jiraiya turns his back and you roll your eyes, his voice very audible over the hustle and bustle of the restaurant. “To the kitchen then!”

You watch as your staff stiffens at the sight of him, everyone looking down at their shoes in the same fashion you did to ensure OSHA safety standards are being met in the footwear department. His purpose in being here certainly isn’t about shoes, you feel and you follow him silently into the kitchen and back toward the stock room. 

Watching as he inspects every shelf, pulling our cans and searching behind them, you begin to grow impatient. He still hasn’t given you his reason for being here and it feels as if he’s wasting time getting to the point. Just as you decide to speak up, he clears his throat and tips his head in the direction of the freezers. 

“Haveta’ check in there next.”

A defeated sigh escapes you and you unceremoniously fan a hand in the direction of the heavy doors that separate the walk in from the rest of the kitchen. He looks behind him to make sure you’re following and he opens the door with a grin, pretending to shiver. 

You roll your eyes. 

“Tough crowd.” 

His words are aimed at no one in particular but you follow him into the small space and watch as he does the same inspection of each shelf he performed in the store room. The scrape of heavy boxes against metal shelves makes you shiver and he tosses an apologetic frown in your direction. 

“Sorry about all this.” For a moment you soften toward the large man, your eyes dancing across his broad frame. A thought flickers in your mind, the small flame of a potentially bad idea, but you try your luck and walk into the freezer alongside him and shut the door behind you. The proximity forces your shoulder to brush against his bicep and he glances down at you with a knowing smile.

“What can I do to pass this little inspection?”

The words drip from your mouth like sweet honey and Jiraiya smirks, chuckling before wrapping a hand around your hip and pulling you to his side. Heat rushes to your face as you look up at him, standing literal head and shoulders above you, and you feel embarrassed at the way you squirm and press your thighs together.

“We can make all of this go away real quick if you wanna.”

Breathlessly, you let him press the front of you against the cold shelves of the freezer.  The boxes and bags that line the shelves rattle with the force and you moan as he leans against your ass, his bulge resting on your lower back. His breath against the shell of your ear and the heat of your own weeping cunt are the warmest things in the freezer.

Jiraiya cups your clothed breast, big hands palming you hungrily as he rubs his clothed clock against your lower back and moves his hands just enough that he can manipulate your body enough that your back is arched. Sliding one hand from your breast to your chin, he cups it and forces you to look up at him. 

“Smile, sweetheart.” He pants the words through gritted teeth, a soft moan escaping you as you notice the determined look on his eyes. “I’m about to take real good care of you.”

All you can do is nod as you stare up at him, the hand not gripping your face reaching for the waistband of your black slacks and pulling them down in one motion, the fabric bunching halfway down your thighs. Looking down at the curve of your ass pressed against him, he hisses and chuckles lowly. A hand caresses one of your plush cheeks before giving it a little smack, the jiggle making him rub against you once more simply to feel relief. 

“No panties?” He remarks, his large hand sliding across your cheeks again to pull them apart with his thumb and index finger. Whistling lowly, he lets go of your face and you continue looking up at him, entranced by the sight of this older man inspecting your body. “What kind of luck am I having today?”

The hand makes its way between your thighs and you feel his index finger find your slit, the digit running through your soaked and silky folds. This time it’s you pressing against him and spreading your feet just a bit wider to give him more access to you. Never one to miss out on the feel of a sweet leaking cunt beneath his fingers, he swirls the tip around your clit before sliding down further and inserting just the tip inside of you. 

“You like that?” 

You nod, humming affirmatively as he slides his finger through your folds again. Another arrogant smirk crosses his features as he buries his finger to the knuckle without warning you, the slick heat of you sucking him in with little resistance despite how thick his fingers are. He works one finger in and out of you briefly before adding a second, the stretch of two of them so delicious your eyes roll back in your head. 

“Oh fuck,” he mutters and you feel a hand slide toward your lower belly so he can press you against him until there is no space left between your bodies. The deep pants coming from him make you squirm and he moves his hand again with the unspoken expectation that you keep your position exactly as it is. You do and your reward comes in the form of small, dizzying circles being rubbed around your clit with his fingers. 

“Jiraiya…” the high pitched whine leaving your mouth would embarrass you in any other situation but your mind is numb with the cold of the freezer. He continues to rub diligent circles that are driving you crazy and you finally cum with a moan, clenching around his fingers so hard he has to keep them inside of you until you have relaxed enough to let him go. He pulls his fingers from you and places them in front of your face, your tongue darting out of your mouth immediately to suck them clean.

A chuckle rumbles in his chest as you hear the unfastening of a belt from behind you, the jingle of the buckle sending a rush of heat to your still spasming cunt. The cloth covered bulge slowly reveals itself against your back and you gasp feeling the girth. He backs away from you slightly, pushing between your shoulder blades so that you are bent at the waist and you look down to see him tapping the fat head of his very impressively sized cock against your sticky folds.

"Look at you," he coos and you arch your back further. He responds by slipping his head inside of you, a gasp all you can manage as you stretch around just the tip. This man is more than you've ever taken in your life and he can tell by the way your thighs visibly shake. His hands find your hips and anchor you in place as a slow, deep, experimental thrust quickly becomes one deep, hard thrust that makes a clap sound through the entire freezer.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you chant as you look over his shouder. His long hair flies around his shoulders wildly and his jaw is tense, eyes focused on where your bodies are joined. The sounds coming from your messy pussy are obscene but neither of you seem to mind as his thrusts begin coming harder and harder.

Time is of the essence when you're fucking in a walk in freezer, after all, and he doesn't want to waste any.

If you weren't being so thoroughly fucked, you'd worry they can hear what's happening inside the freezer on the outside. You are simply too engrossed in the way every vein of his cock rubs against your walls to even care. Your jaw slackens as he slaps your ass again and he taunts you from above, on the edge of stuffing you full.

"You fit me so well sweet thing," he grunts, tipping his head back as he holds your hips in place and thrusts shallowly. He brushes against your walls just right and you squeal, head thrown back and face toward the ceiling as you clench and cream around his cock.

Panting, he thrusts one more time and stays nestled deeply inside of you to cum. You didn't ask him not to and you aren't complaining now, struggling to catch your breath in the cold freezer.

Realizing what you've done, you scramble to get away from him with widened eyes, his cum dripping out of you and into the seat of your slacks as you pull them back up over your thighs. He smirks at the sight, your sweet, soft skin marked with a red palm print.

"Are we good?" You ask, still panting and he nods, wrapping his fist around his cock and squeezing it once before wiping his hand on his shirt and pulling his pants back up. Despite the situation, you smile up at him and your gaze is softer than it has been during the entire interaction. He clicks his tongue and situates his belt buckle square above the button of his pants.

"Everything checks out here," his voice booms as you reach for the door to open it, two of your servers standing across from the freezer looking pale and concerned.

"Hi guys, he's just leaving." They nod and one of them reaches out, grabbing your shoulder and leaning toward you.

"Hey, OSHA's here..." they start and you furrow your brow, looking at the man departing through the busy kitchen. "Yeah, he's right there."

You point at Jiraiya and your server shakes their head, passing a paper in your direction listing the complaint of cleaning products being stored incorrectly. Peeking around the server, you gasp at the sight of a man in a safety vest standing at the kitchen door while Jiraiya is nowhere to be found.

"God damn it."

You grab the paper and fight the urge to crumple it in your fist, shaking as you head toward the kitchen door. The man standing at the door eyes you cautiously and you look around his shoulder to see if you can still see the man whose cum is currently dripping out of you.

"Uh, hey. I'm Asuma and I'm here to perform an inspection as a result of a complaint."

You nod, a tight smile on your face as you move out of the way and allow him into the kitchen.