#rapid fire fun facts

[cocolacola]

me posting only fandom stuff and reblogs for one day: my poor fans. they dont even know my lore

[zecoritheweirdone]

first art post of the new year!!! granted, i don't share my art here that much anyway, but– shhh.

hehehehhhooo,, here's something i've been working on for 'bout a month,, albeit not consecutively– took a few,, very very long breaks in between working on this,, but i managed to finish it in the end! am i satisfied with it? .......ehhhh? not completely, but if this took any longer, it might not have seen the light of day, so like. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

anyway,, made a little poster for my favorite fic, tommyinnit's services for villains, vigilantes, and various other vagabonds, by @scorpionoesit!!! it's really really good,,, and i've always wanted to make more art for it,, so i decided– poster! at least,, that's what it's mean to resemble,,, dkdmkdmdkd.

i will freely admit,, i'm... not the biggest fan of the fan-made logo i tried to design for it,, feels a bit boring, and could definitely have used a bit more pizazz, something to make feel more like the fic itself(what does that mean? you figure that out),,,, but– again, steam was running low,, dkdnksjs. graphic design is my passion. i do also have other complaints, but i'm afraid i already punched my one-use self-critique card,, oh well,,, dkdnkxjdkd.

regardless,, even with the flaws only i can really see,, this still turned out pretty okay!! hope you enjoy it, mx. scorpio and mx. alibi!!! and i hope everyone else has a wonderful new year!!!!

[butchdykenormallen]

hey guys guess whos not on post limit anymore!

[gay-dorito-dust]

(Idk if ur rq are open bc I can't find any indication of it being, but I hope it is and if it isn't km sorry and h can just ignore this until they are!!)

Maybeee bat boys x reader who zones out a lot and tends to make faces according to what she's thinking abt. Like a smile or frown. And sometimes when they ask her what's up she's all secretive and what not.

Thank you!!

I dunno if I did this right but here ya go!

Dick makes a game out of it and tries to guess what you were thinking about.

Even if you don’t tell him why you’re smiling or making a face of thought, he is surprisingly good at being able to figure it out regardless, but for every expression he gets wrong you’d have to give him double the kisses for the ones he gets right to make up for it.

He loves watching your face contort like a ventriloquist through a rapid fire of emotions depending on what your mind has decided to remind you of, and today it was the memory of Hayley in her Halloween costume of Nightwing, just to match with Dick in his Nightwing suit as he prepared to enter the bloodhaven annual Nightwing contest.

Basically a contest where people deduce if anyone had a similar ass shape to Nightwing himself, a contest you find ridiculous but the imagine of Hayley in her Halloween costume was the sweetest thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on, that you couldn’t help but smile widely at.

You had albums full of Hayley in her Halloween costume with Dick photobombing in the background.

‘What’s on that pretty little mind of yours sweetheart?’ Dick would often ask.

‘Something silly.’ You’d reply with on the odd occasion as to keep him guessing, finding his attempts fun and only giving him pity kisses when he got a majority of them wrong. He had only got a handful right before but on all the other occasions he’s fails spectacularly.

‘Something silly like the time I lost the nightwing contest to Jason that one time?’ He answers wrongly but you couldn’t help but give him a pity kiss for being somewhat right but wrong simultaneously.

‘Sure darling.’ You’d say as you went back to zoning out on Hayley in her Halloween costume while dick burrows his face into your neck, murmuring about how of all people did Jason won the contest when they look nothing alike before going on about how Jason was a brick shit house in comparison to his muscular yet flexible body.

You’ll have to give him more pity kisses to ease his bruised ego by saying he wins all the Nightwing contests in your eyes. When in reality Hayley wins them all just for the fact of being adorable.

Damian found it weird at first for your face to be expressive, believing that it would make you an easy target for others to take advantage of.

Now however he finds it to be a way of expressing how you actually felt in comparison to the words that escape your mouth. He often discouraged zoning out as it would lead to unfavourable outcomes, but when you zone out and your face becomes soft Damian couldn’t help but find himself looking at you with a soft expression of his own.

‘What are you think about my beloved?’ He’d ask you as he hugs you from behind, resting his head upon your shoulder.

‘Nothing that you would find investing my love.’ You replied softly as the fond smile on your face grew the more you thought about the one time Damian chased Titus throughout the mansion because the Great Dane has somehow stole his robin suit and wouldn’t let go.

Damian kisses your shoulder. ‘Are you sure it’s not something I should be concerned about?’ He’d then ask.

You smile softly. ‘Not at all dami, just a funny thought is all.’ You told him while moving your head to kiss his forehead as though to calm his own thoughts. He hums, not believing you for a second from the mischievous glint in your eyes but was more than willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, just because he adored you so much.

‘As you wish my treasure.’ Your thoughts were your thoughts and Damian wouldn’t pry into them unless you wanted him to, so he just watched your expression carefully and deduced what you were feeling and link it to whatever memory would gain an happy, fond expression and leave it at that.

Jason loves your expressive face, he really does and will playfully pester you about what you were asking a face at while softly pinching your sides as you giggled.

Jason loved watching you as you zone out, perhaps reminiscing about a recent memory or other, and watching your face show how you felt about that particular moment.

‘Whatcha thinking about chipmunk?’ He’d ask from his place on the kitchen counter that he chose to admire you from. ‘Was it about little old me?’ He’d then ask cheekily as you playfully groan, shoving a hand to his face and pushing him away.

‘As if.’ You’d reply before walking away but Jason will continue to pester you about what you were thinking for the rest of the day. He’s just a little shit that you’ve come to love more then anything. Your thoughts were more than not occupied by how comfortable he had gotten with you over the course of your relationship and how happy you were for him.

Though you’d never say such a thing in front of him as he’ll use it against you however he could while giving you the softest, most beloved look upon his gorgeous face. Jason was your weakness and the only thing that you always thought about whether it be his autopsy scars, his white ruff of hair that you found immensely adorable and his plush lips that you want to kiss constantly.

Jason is more then content in just watching your face, but don’t be surprised that he kisses your furrowed brow when he sees your face become troubled, he wants his sweetheart to be happy not troubled because that’s what you deserve. You don’t need words to describe how happy you were for Jason to be able to read the emotion crossing your face, and Jason was more than happy to be of reassurance for when you needed it.

Bruce is amused whenever you made a face at something, or nothing in particular.

Like Damian he views it as a way of expressing your inner most feelings towards something or someone without having to vocalise it. It intrigues him as it’s not often that he comes across someone who wears their emotions across their face like you, after all Gotham if filled with some of the most guarded people to ever exist, him included.

It’s fascinating but even he got a little curious when you were smiling a little too widely one day, silently chuckling to yourself as you tried to get ready for bed.

‘What is making you laugh my dear.’ Bruce would ask as he sets aside his novel, moving to his side to look at you while the hand at your waist drew soothing patterns into your skin.

‘Nothing.’ You said as you chuckled.

‘Are you sure it’s nothing? Seems like you might be reminiscing of the time at the iceberg lounge where I mistakenly striped down to my boxers and tabletop danced.’ Bruce replied and all you could do is look at him with a somewhat shocked expression, you knew he was good but you kept forgetting just how good he was at deducting it always caught you off guard.

‘How-‘ you began.

‘Detective remember.’ Bruce chuckled slightly as he kissed your forehead.

‘But that was too specific of a memory for you to guess correctly.’ You rebutted, wanting to know how he knew about that particular memory.

‘It’s not too difficult for me to differentiate between the facial expressions you have towards each and every time you zone out my dear, so while it maybe impossible to believe but to me it’s as easy as breathing.’ Bruce replied as he brought you into his chest. He really did take the time out of his day to memories and learn the smallest of differences between your facial expressions, so much to the point where could tell whether the thing you were zoning out on was a good memory or not.

‘I’m not sure whether to be flattered or not.’ You murmured to yourself as you rested again his strong chest, tracing the many, many scars it possessed with featherlight touches and affection in the form of small kisses pepper against them.

Bruce only tightens his hold on you and kisses the top of your head as he hums. ‘Flattered preferably as the expression you make is sweet and warm.’ He tells you with his voice heavy with sleep.

‘Flattery it is.’ You said sluggishly as you cuddled yourself into his chest, clinging onto him for dear life as he kept you close, presenting the door his back out of his need to keep you safe and secure.

[steddiealltheway]

For some reason, Steve and Eddie do not know how to greet each other. Maybe it's because their friendship is somewhat new, and they both don't know how to outright say, "How the hell am I supposed to say hello?"

So, it just kind of becomes a thing between the two of them to almost rapid-fire greetings until they land on a mutual one. And usually... it takes them a while.

This time is no exception.

Eddie sees Steve and lets his heart do a little flip that he knows isn't just nerves from their little greeting thing, but eventually, he'll learn how to push those feelings down. He just can't help it when Steve always looks like a- like.... okay, he's hot, and Eddie's brain goes to mush whenever he's around him.

Speaking of being around him...

"Hey!" Eddie says throwing his arms out wide for a hug while the kids walk around them.

Steve counters him by thrusting his hand forward going for a handshake while saying, "Hey, man!"

They both laugh at their awkward greeting and move on to the next one. For some reason, Eddie goes for a bow, and Steve does Eddie's signature devil horns while sticking his tongue out which really should not be so damn attractive.

Then, Eddie stands up straight and goes for a high five while Steve goes for a fist bump. "Almost had it," Steve says with a wide smile.

"We'll get it on this next one," Eddie states. Then, he moves his elbow forward as Steve does his little finger wave.

"I definitely should've seen that coming. That's on me," Steve says running a hand through his hair.

"No worries, man. But I won't lie, I'm starting to run out of greetings, and they're about to turn weird," Eddie admits, but this is usually the fun of this game. Somehow they always get to some mutually weird greeting that no human would actually ever do.

So, Eddie prepares himself when Steve gets a rare mischievous look in his eye and asks, "Ready?"

Eddie nods then jumps into the air as Steve raises his foot up, luckily not kicking him but getting fairly close.

"Were you trying to kick me?" Eddie asks with a laugh.

"Was going for a footfive," Steve replies with a smile.

That smile is going to be the death of Eddie one of these days. And for some reason, with that thought on his mind, Eddie suddenly remembers that sometimes people kiss each other on the cheeks as a greeting, and wouldn't that be funny?

"Ready?" Eddie asks, excited for his plan.

"Ready," Steve replies.

Unexpectedly, Steve steps forward as Eddie does the same. But Eddie doesn't chicken out of his plan. So, he quickly leans forward, but Steve must entirely misread him because suddenly he is kissing Eddie. Like... full-on kissing him. On the lips. With his hands gently cupping his face.

When he pulls away, Eddie is still a bit in shock, but Steve just raises his hand in a high five and excitedly yells, "We found a greeting!" Like they usually do as if he did not just kiss him.

So, Eddie does the only thing he can think of and celebrates with him as if nothing life-changing just happened.

When Steve walks away, Eddie can't help but get stuck on the fact that they're going to have to go through the same process when saying goodbye again. Is he allowed to test his luck?

He glances around and realizes that no one else witnessed their little moment, having gotten used to their antics long ago. But maybe when everyone is leaving and they're around the two, Eddie won't be so lucky. If anything, he can say he was going for a cheek kiss.

So, the night goes on, and Eddie tries as hard as he can to forget the kiss.

It does not work at all.

And before he knows it, people are starting to leave, and Steve is even looking at him expectantly. So, Eddie walks up to him and says, "Bye, man." And before he can even think of a way to say goodbye to cover how much he wants to kiss Steve again, Steve is already leaning in.

This time, Eddie easily meets him in the middle to properly kiss him which gives him butterflies in his stomach until he hears Dustin say, "What the fuck?"

Steve and Eddie jump apart breaking the kiss, but Steve quickly defends them. "We found our new greeting!"

Eddie thinks he might die on the spot. This is going to be a recurring thing? Jesus H. Christ. Steve is going to be the death of him.

"Good for you?" Max says as she walks out the door clearly weirded out but Eddie thinks she could care less.

Everyone else kind of dismisses it as well, but Dustin just stands there flabbergasted.

Steve takes a small step forward with his hands on his hips and his eyebrows raised. “You got a problem, Henderson?” Steve asks, more fearful than accusatory.

“No!” Dustin squeals then calmly continues, “No. it’s just I…” he trails off and looks between the two before shaking his head. “I don’t want to see any tongue,” he states.

“Gross, I would never in front of you kids!” Steve says shoving him out the door while ruffling his hair.

“No promises!” Eddie shouts after him, but then it hits him that Steve just said he would make out with him with the kids not around… and right now the kids are all gone.

Oh shit.

The door closes behind Dustin, and Eddie knows that he needs to leave the Harrington house. Especially because he’s the kids’ ride home.

He ducks his head, letting some strands fall in front of his face, and says, "Goodbye, Steve." He takes a few steps toward the door but is stopped by Steve's hand on his shoulder.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, sounding a little too hopeful.

Steve just steps in front of him and cups his face. "This okay?"

Eddie melts into the touch and grabs Steve's hips. "More than okay."

He's not sure who moves first, but Steve is pinned against the door, and Eddie fulfills his secret wishes of taking Steve apart as he learns that Steve wasn't lying when he said no tongue only in front of the kids.

There's a loud knock on the door, and Dustin is suddenly yelling, "Hurry up in there! Some of us have a curfew!"

So, Steve and Eddie reluctantly pull apart, but Eddie can't help but kiss him one more time and wish him a good night.

In the car, the kids grill Eddie to answer when the hell they started dating, but Eddie assures them that they're not. Then, they all take bets on how long it will be, and Eddie chimes in that he's pretty sure he's not supposed to hear their bets.

(Secretly, he wants to make El's bet of two weeks come true.)

Eddie knows it's just a fluke though. Steve is probably just kissed starved after his series of failed dates, and Eddie is just an outlet.

It's pretty depressing when it's put like that but... Eddie is willing to take anything from Steve.

So, he can't be too upset when Steve kisses him the next time he sees him. And the time after that... And the time after that...

But, then it shifts to whenever Steve sees Eddie after he goes in another room, the bathroom, hell, sometimes Steve just says he hasn't looked in his direction in a while and misses him before he swoops in to kiss him.

It shifts even further when Steve starts purposely making excuses to get Eddie alone only to make out with him. They're not even good excuses. He once asks, "Eddie, can you come in here to observe the color of the inside of this door?"

But every time Eddie thinks maybe this is not good for my heart, Steve looks at him sweetly and says, "Hi," before leaning in to kiss him again.

And maybe it would be easier to distinguish whatever the hell this whole greeting thing is if only Steve wasn't acting all lovey-dovey outside of it. He starts insisting on sitting next to Eddie and slinging his arm around his shoulders. He even starts whispering flirty stuff in his ear that makes Eddie turn bright red - he didn't know someone could do that to him.

And the kids are getting worse in the van, insisting that they each have their bet in the bag with it being any day now.

And Eddie knows they're all wrong.

Steve has just hit a rough patch and he's content with using Eddie until the next girl comes along.

Once again… that sounds really bad. But it has to be the only way that Eddie deserves this.

But maybe he should end it before things go too far.

With that in mind, Eddie goes to Steve’s house unprompted and without anyone else for once. He needs to make it clear that a new greeting is needed.

He gets there quickly and rushes to the front door before he can change his mind. He can do this. He can set a boundary.

But then Steve opens the door and his whole face lights up when he sees Eddie. “Finally. I was wondering when it would just be you, but I didn’t want to push it.”

Instead of dodging the kiss once he’s through the doorway, Eddie completely gives in to the way Steve desperately throws himself at him practically devouring him. And Eddie is a very weak man.

Every kiss breaks his will and he begins to wonder why he should say anything and instead just accept anything he can.

Then, Steve starts kissing his jaw and down his neck and Eddie freezes up. Whatever comes next, he definitely does not want it to mean nothing.

Luckily, Steve notices and pulls back. “You okay?” He asks looking him in the eye.

Eddie shakes his head. He’s not. God, he really likes him. But he can’t go any further or this will tear him apart.

“Hey,” Steve says gently. “Talk to me. What’s wrong?”

Eddie thuds his head against the door and feels so dumb when his eyes start to burn and his bottom lip starts to tremble. “Please don’t hate me when I tell you this.”

“I could never hate you, Eddie.”

Eddie laughs humorlessly. He’s going to flip out when he finds out. “I like you, Steve. As in, I have feelings for you.”

Steve waits a moment, brows furrowed, and Eddie is sure he’s going to kick him out. Instead, he asks, “But…?”

Why is he prompting him? “No but. That’s it,” Eddie states. Maybe Steve just heard him wrong?

“Okay?” Steve says as if it was the most obvious confession in the world. “And why would I hate you when you told me that?”

Eddie’s eyes widen. Does he not get it? “Because I like you! Like… romantically! And I can’t have you kissing me since it means nothing to you and everything to me!” His heart pounds in his chest as Steve takes in what he’s saying.

“Holy shit,” Steve says having the realization.

“Yeah, holy shit.” Eddie thuds his head back against the door again. Hopefully he’ll let him down easy.

“No, I mean holy shit holy shit,” Steve crowds into his space and cups Eddie’s face. “Did you not think I had feelings for you too? Hell, I thought we were like… dating by now.” Steve pulls away and runs a hand through his hair anxiously. “Holy shit,” he mutters in disbelief.

Eddie just stares. “You thought we were dating? Like… you have feelings for me?”

“I thought I made them clear after the second time I kissed you! Why would I make out with you if we were just friends?”

“I don’t know!” Eddie yells back and runs his hands over his face. He laughs. “Oh god, none of the kids will win the bet because we have no idea when we started dating.”

“There’s a bet going on?” Steve asks with a small smile. “What did El say?”

“That’s who I was hoping for! She said we would be dating two weeks from… Oh, that was two weeks ago exactly,” Eddie realizes with a big smile. Maybe she won fair and square after all.

“Want to make it official then since I somehow forgot to?” Steve asks with a big smile.

Eddie pretends to actually think about his answer before considering, “Maybe I should review all the bets first.”

“Eddie,” Steve says exasperated.

“I’m joking. I will be glad to be your boyfriend… if it means El wins the bet.”

“Eddie.”

Eddie can’t help but laugh at Steve’s irritation. He leans forward and easily kisses him. “You’re going to get tired of me so fast, boyfriend,” Eddie can’t help but tack on at the end.

“I’d like to see you try, boyfriend,” Steve replies before kissing him again.

From then on, their greetings only slightly change. In addition to the kiss, they always say some form of, “Hi, boyfriend.” The kids quickly get tired of it, but Steve and Eddie never do.

[recitedemise]

He isn't often met with someone so shameless. Proud, sure, and prone to working under his considerably thick skin, but admittedly, her flavor of rapscallion's more enjoyable than most. That he's a masochist, of course, doesn't exactly go completely unnoticed. Still, when Aneska smiles so sweet, her air all clever and a lot a bit serpentine, Gale fails to worry to the rattle of her teasing. He rolls with it, in fact, and pipes the flute. "Quite right. How remiss of me," he easily rejoinders, finger tap-tapping his tome. Tutting, but in a fun, scholarly way. "Come to think of it, I struggle to find a word more apt in surmising the host of your endless qualities. A single look at you would spring the image of candlelit dinners and the most somber poetry on those greyest of days. Make no mistake, I've been made entirely aware of your more passionate nature. And," he tacks on, "your compassionate one, too." Of course, last he checked, it took no time at all to sample the depths of her kindness. When he'd confessed to his orb, that cold, cold, gnawing in the deep of his marrow, he'd anticipated fear and a fair bit of spite. To be sure, he'd suffered such heartaches in varying intensity, but from this woman before him with her curious wings, it had been, he remembers, none such sorrow.

For all her mystery, she boasts a quick-to-like heart. Gale, as it were, wants most to be liked.

Yet, considering his hopeless situation, perhaps it makes sense why even a middling kindness would feel like gold. Naturally, however, it would be gold itself that comes dangling before him. Blinking, Gale feels several ways gobsmacked. It really is lovely, the necklace, not at all some ten-copper bauble from some odd-eyed vendor. It has with it heft, and with it, too, the tell tale evidence of considerable craftsmanship. He breathes, feeling the pulsing magic trickling from the bell. He doesn't need quite yet, but he can discern the richnes and intensity. His pulse jumps, a slight squeeze crawling up his chest. On the swell of the pendant, he notes an 'A'.

Evidence it's hers: Aneska. He's speechless. How refreshing. Disbelief, tangled messily, too, with open endearment, finds him, the brown of his gaze warming deep, deep, impossibly. "Your good luck charm. Admittedly, it'd been a near thing what with the enormity of your gift, but don't believe for a second that that escaped my notice." He leans in a little, amazed. Aneska lets it hang there, and Gale studies, heart panging, a steep feeling fermenting into syrup in his heart. Thumb brushing it, the engraving catches at his skin. Ultimately, however, reverently, touched, he folds her hands in his. "I'm—" Astonished? Confounded? Baffled? Well, yes, all of these things and several more, but what Gale settles on breathlessly is a quiet, "flattered." Fluttery, too. His pulse flits like a butterfly. "You are entirely too generous with me, Aneska. I can hardly accept something that holds such...gravity. That you would entrust it to me is enough to soothe a troubled wizard's heart, that, I assure you. This is yours. Another trinket will sate my orb." Carefully, he guides their cupped hands back toward her tummy. Looking up at her, there rings a sobering humanity, perhaps even humanity from where he's seated. His palms are smoothed, calloused only by his staff. The night, dragging, wreathes her silver. "Besides, you're rather in need of better luck yourself—though if you won't begrudge me for it, I may feel inclined to stray less frequently from you. A man can hardly spare whatever fortune he get can, I'd argue. It's exceptionally lovely... I'd have expected to see it around your neck." Why isn't it? He pulls his hands back.

oh , how he amuses her so , this man who so easily conjures words both honeyed & scathing. she is certain , unwaveringly so , that her antics have much the same effect on him. & so aneska smiles in her own strange way , lips curled upwards demure & toothless , eyes gleaming with devilry , & satisfaction. " oh , gale , don't make me sound so cold. it's not me that would have you scrounging through our unwanted loot for whatever traces of the weave you might find. i think you'll find i'm more romantic than that. i'm nice enough not to take this away from you for daring to challenge me , aren't i ? " in her typical fashion , words are spoken slowly , methodically , each syllable it's own performance. it's almost masterful ⏤ how she so sweetly draws out his name , how she briefly & pointedly casts her judgemental gaze upon their campmates , how she allows the warmth of her smile to break through & lighten what mischief plays in her town. those fleshy wings perched upon her back betray her. one might think her a fae , or better yet , a fiend , seeing how she so delights in acting wicked.

& yet , despite her theatrics , she is no more nefarious than the rest of their brigade. so when she pulls that coveted prize from it's hiding place , what she reveals is so quaint , so lovely , she nearly feels the need to drop it upon his lap , if only to denigrate the things value. it's a necklace , of sorts. a circular , golden bell hung upon an unceremonious bronze chain. there's an A carved upon its surface , surrounded by sweeping lines like wings. it clinks faintly , metallically , as it dangles from her pinched fingers ⏤ & there is , unsurprisingly she's sure , that familiar warm flush of magic that seems to dance upon the air at its call.

" see ? it's not just magical , it's beautiful. all gold , real gold. lovingly handcrafted for the adored heiress to the moshfegh estate ⏤ that would be me , of course. & kept in pristine condition. " she preens , smiles brightly as the bell's chain is given an emphatic little tug & it gives a little song. aneska would forget herself in her histronics , one of these days. " my good luck charm. though i fear my being in possession of it is a bit redundant. i thought you might be able to find a use for it , & appreciate it's artistry still. "

[cy-cyborg]

Tips for writing and drawing amputee characters: Stump Scarring

This was something I had originally intended to mention in this post but felt it deserved its own separate post.

A lot of people, when drawing and designing amputee characters, draw their characters with these big, gnarly looking scars all over the stump. I get why people do this, but in reality, most amputees have stumps that look more like this:

The only scarring that is inherent to amputation (meaning most amputees have) is a very thin line right at the tip of the stump that comes from where the stump was sewn shut. After 5-10 years though, these thin incision scars will fade to be nearly invisible in most folks other than the indent it usually leaves in the skin.

Of course, there are exceptions! My own legs are covered in heavy scarring like the pictures below.

but typically, you only see this in amputees who lost their limb in ways that required them to also need skin grafts, such as from a burn (fire or acid), gangrene, some types of rapid-onset sepsis, or particularly brutal animal attacks.

For context, I used scars from meningococcal as reference here.

I think this is another reason a lot of people, particularly in 2D comics and animation, cover their amputee character's stumps, because they think all amputees have scars like the ones in the second image and I'll be honest, that's a lot to draw when you're drawing it over and over again, but unless your amputee also needed skin grafts bcuase of their injury/illness, their stumps will look more like the first images.

Fun fact: on particularly pale skin, scars can change colour depending on temperature. scars have less circulation and the blood vessels are closer to the skin, which means if you don't have a lot of melanin, your scars can turn a grey-ish purple colour like so:

This information is brought to you by an especially pasty white person in the southern hemisphere (where it's winter atm) who's scars haven't seen the sun since june lmao.

A quick final note: If you look up "burn scars" or any other similar type of large scarring on google a lot of what you get are fresh scars, so they're going to look different than the ones here. On pale skin, large scars like the ones above start out very dark red and will fade to look more like the images here. The same is true for dark skin, typically fresh scars will be much darker in colouration and will fade to be closer to the natural skin tone with time, though on both, they will always be very visible. Some types of scarring on darker skin tones can cause the skin to become lighter, but they don't usually turn entirely light pink like I've seen some folks draw. This is why it's so important to look up references of the type of scar your character has AND how that looks on their skin tone.

And as always, listen to POC and seek out the recourses specifically made by them, especially if you're drawing characters with darker skin tones. Their lived experience will always beat my "what I found through internet research and from talking to friends"

[blueberrypancakesworld]

An acidic gentle embrace

Xenomorph x fem!reader

warning : mention of dead, fluff/comfort (as far as this goes with the xenomorph and the film in general), wounds, no use of y/n, the xenomorph is very ooc probably but for a little cute monster you have to sacrifice something

Summary : A short trip it would have been, or so they had thought when they boarded the spaceship just a few minutes ago…and now it was apparently just the four of them on the run from a monster that was out to kill them, or caring?

info : Omg it has stuck with me since i watched the film with a friend anyway have fun with this little something and i was Inspired from THIS post check it out and the blog from @spicybunni :)

ps : The gif is really everything from @crybabyryo

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Death nothing but death would await them if they stayed here even a few moments longer. She knew that, Rain knew that and Andy knew that, they knew it from the moment they heard the hissing, the scratching of the black claws and the watery slime that spread across the floor as the mouths reached for them and the acid threatened to dissolve them.

It wasn't a hunt, it was a death sentence when both sides knew that only the lift that stood between them would mean freedom, the ship would turn on and all they had to do was get back to the hangar…while they had to deal with gravity and non-gravity.

Every time the sirens sounded they heard Rain's calls and the weight that came over them seemed to pull them off the ladder, the pull they needed to get closer and faster threatened to pull them straight back into the arms of this being, this acid-bearing being or Xenomorph as Bishop had told them before all hell broke loose.

,,Just a few more metres! Kay's got the ship ready, we can do this!" Rain shouted from above her as she flung her friend a few metres above her to Andy with a sweep of her arm as gravity was switched off, but now this creature was on her tail and maybe it was space, maybe it was her rapid heartbeat or the pain coursing through her body as she felt herself becoming more and more resigned to the fact that she might not get out of here.

It might be okay if she could carve out time for her friends for her family that she never really had except for the last few hours when they all got closer somehow, ,,Just keep going up, don't worry!" she heard her voice reply back almost automatically, the look she cast upwards telling her that Andy's silent backward glance understood, a no need for understanding when they both knew she wasn't going to make it.

Climbing further feeling the weight of the gun on her back she knew it was the last chance and it was okay so it was the right thing to do, ,,Andy! My weapon….now!" she shouted as she hauled it off her back, caught on the ladder and with another shrill sound the gravity switched off again and with a reasonably well-timed throw the android took her weapon out of the air moments later.

She heard Rain's scream and heard Andy's thanks, but her friend's screams soon joined the creature's hiss and she looked down to see the waves coming closer, ,,Come on! You beasts, here I am!" she screamed at the black creature that slithered towards her and she grabbed the small handgun and fired, knowing that she only had this moment, that her last look up showed her that it had worked, that she could at least buy her friends some time.

But the shots all missed, whether it was her trembling hands or her giving up she didn't know, what she did know was that she aimed her last shot at the ladder as gravity threatened to kick in again, ,,Come on make it quick" she hissed and for a moment she flew around the shaft until with another shrill sound gravity kicked in again and she fell with a scream.

She heard the metallic clang as the ladder scraped to the floor and walls, shattering and soon they would land, probably with a broken neck or worse alive for these creatures.

Closing her eyes just waiting for the moment she heard the hissing screeches of the aliens that seemed to be around her, she braced herself for pain for the end...as the air was forced out of her lungs and she felt the weight of gravity bearing down on her…but pain she did not feel.

Yelping as her hands touched something hard, something that had wrapped itself around her waist and had no intention of letting go, she looked directly into the face of the creature.

It just looked at her with its sharp teeth, a superior smile if you could call it that as she felt the firm tail continue to wrap around her, wrapping around her hips, supporting her legs and resting the spike on her shoulders, she was exactly where it wanted her to be.

The dangerously spiky tail was hard chitin-like and yet it handled its spike with care as the black creature slowly pulled her towards it, she heard her whimper the fear go through her as she just let this simple movement happen, ,,Stay-Stay away" escaped her lips as her hands clawed at its tail which the Xenomorph didn't even seem to notice.

The power in the tail, the power this creature had to kill her, it had used to lift her up with almost a demonstration of what it could do. Showed what it could do to her and still decided to gently hold her as if it owned her and she had no choice.

Instead, she tried to push away as it ran one of its claws over her arm as if it were trying to feel her, ,,Not-please…can-can you understand me?" she dared to ask, wincing as the sharp claws ran over the cut on her arm and the creature let out an almost silent hiss as it looked at the red blood that didn't resemble its own.

As two worlds clashed unequally, a human woman fragile fleshy helplessly wrapped by the perfect creature without feelings seemed not to care about her emotions.

This tongue other than its tail other was so grotesque that it did not match the long enveloping almost protective something, it did not give itself to her words and yet she continued to hold the movements of the muscles or whatever it was that pressed tensely against her body in the pointed tail.

It wouldn't let her go and she realised as if they both knew she could do nothing against the alien and despite the fact that she was inferior to this thing, it still chose to be gentle.

She held her bloodied hand out to the creature, trembling slightly, and saw that it seemed to be sniffing as if it was trying to gather information, ,,This is-is blood in me, you see-see," she said seemed to choke on her stammering voice, aware of the overall irony of the situation and yet seemingly more certain that it would not kill her immediately, not knowing if it understood, instead whimpering in fear as she saw the tongue-like thing.

She couldn't tell if it wanted her blood as she was still waiting for her death to come, if not through the creature then through the wounds and if they weren't fast enough then through the universe which would swallow them all up it was all a big joke from the start and an escape from here would have been too good.

Swore to herself that it would rip her hand to shreds, throwing her to the ground dead…but no instead it seemed to taste her blood the mix of overly watery saliva covering her hand unpleasant but not harmful as the xenomorph used its claw to gently pat her on the head trying to soothe her.

But it was more like someone was almost hitting her on the head it was so strong, ,,Thanks" she just said, and gasped at it as another rumble and beep went through the spaceship in all this she had almost forgotten what was happening around her and the creature seemed to have forgotten too as it hissed and pulled her closer but still not killing her.

She didn't know what it wanted and screamed in fear again as the alien moved quickly on all fours and began to crawl around, pulling her with it but not once did she hit the floor or the walls in the opposite direction, the Xenomorph was careful not to hurt her.

She was sure that she might be fed to the others or would be used as a tool as a cocoon imaginations that threatened to bring tears to her eyes as she disappeared into the shafts with the Xenomorph.

But even though it was a little narrow she found herself metres deep in like a shrouded room in which to her great shock she saw these crawling little creatures she had seen what these monsters could do to her, to her body and insides.

She scratched and clawed at the tail trying to get away wishing she had her weapon back as she saw one of the little creatures jump towards her but a scream from her ‘saviour’ and a knock away the xenomorph protected her and slowly plopped her down in the middle of this nest on something soft that looked like an old blanket or something.

Before she could even move away, however, the tail wrapped itself around her again and the Xenomorph placed itself next to her, seeming to lie down, ,,Thank you…thank you for saving me," she said, carefully placing her hand on the creature's head, which hissed quietly and tried to relax.

As the other creatures snuggled up to her body, probably enjoying her warmth, perhaps these complex, deadly creatures could feel something after all, the incidental thought occurred to her.

Even though she was surrounded by death everywhere, the Xenomorph that was with her seemed to be looking for something like maybe comfort in the face of impending death and maybe it wasn't so bad, maybe it was just that in the end as she cuddled up to the creature lightly she realised that it was all right after all instead of dying alone.

So it was that by the end the creatures were almost cuddling up to the two of them as the spaceship came closer and closer to the metreoites and in the end they were all peacefully together for the first time in a common death.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@an-absolute-waste-of-space , @bonkbunn , @uscss-prometheus

[rieamena]

storytime!!! so basically im going through a mini writer's block right now so i started cooking to get my mind off it and now all i can think about is cooking with ino takuma

wc: 0.8k contains: pure fluff and nanami's here too i guess, reader is referred to as girlfriend, modern au author's note: fun fact! so i lost most of this and i had to rewrite all of the parts i lost and when i found out i actually started to cry! but i hope yall like it! inbox open for requests + qna questions + anything and everything

first off, i firmly believe this guy is the most mediocre chef EVER. you cannot convince me otherwise. however!, i will give him his props. he can cook his cute lil suspiciously scrumptious dishes when he has the time but that does not stop him from trying to get better at cooking

once you two started dating, he without a doubt begun brushing up on his skills. he went from being able to make a "banger sandwich" to a "banger le poulet frit et les gaufres" which was just chicken and waffles but he's trying okay!!!

he definitely consulted (begged) head chef nanami, as he called him in this situation, to help with his culinary skills. and i'm not talking regular begged, i'm talking groveling at his feet, begged. and nanami obliged, teaching ino how to cook, starting at the very basics, the importance of mise en place: the practice of organizing and preparing your ingredients and equipment before starting to cook

soon enough, ino's culinary lessons with head chef nanami blossomed. he started from basically nothing and now he's mastered the perfect milk to cereal ratio and a near perfect filet mignon. did he know what that was? no. did he watch nanami make it under the excuse of watching is the best form of learning? yes.

but you have to start somewhere! and you have to give him his tens!! he did light the stove and he preheat the oven. he's practically a chef already! and all that watching definitely paid off

"here, try this recipe with your girlfriend." nanami slid a slip of paper over to ino, tiny, uniform inked words on it. "and here is your copy, good luck." an identical piece of paper was given to ino again but it had handwritten notes like pay attention to the flame and i wouldn't recommend substituting this ingredient, it is very vital for the overall taste of the dish

so here you both were in the kitchen, aprons on and eyes peering at the recipe. "step one," takuma started, tightening his apron like he was about to do some serious work. he lifted up a comically large pot and placed it on the stove, pulling out (and flaunting) the crabs he handpicked from the market right after. "get your pot and your crabs."

"step two," you filled the pot halfway with water, sprinkling in a bit of salt and lighting the fire underneath it. "bring your pot of water to a rapid boil."

"what're you doing babe?" your words were clearly a question though it was one that you could answer simply by looking. "i'm paying attention to the flame." takuma pulled your shoulder flush to his, eyes still watching the blue flame with intent and unwavering focus. "i don't think it's going anywhere but okay."

once the water bubbled up violently, ino threw in the crabs and you went to the bathroom to freshen up. you were humming a sweet song while drying your hands when the all too familiar shrill scream of your boyfriend pierced your ears. "takuma?!" you called out, running to the kitchen, hands an uncomfortable damp. and there he was. takuma had the pot lid propped up as if it were a shield, tears pricking his eyes, "baby...", he called out to you. "the crab... it jumped out of the pot..."

"you bought live crabs...?"

"they weren't moving when i bought them."

"ah."

grabbing some nearby tongs, you placed the crab back into the salted water, "wait..., shouldn't we kill them first?" ino slowly nodded, pulling his phone from his pocket, "let's see... wikihow... how to cook a crab..."

"freeze the crabs?!" your in-sync voices rang through your house, bouncing off the walls. "we're not freezing any crabs." you continued, confusion and sass dripping from your lips. "damn right we're not! but, uh, how're we supposed to kill them then?" gulping at your boyfriend's question, you thought for a bit

tugging at one of the drawers, a collection of knives, given to you both by nanami, were revealed. picking the biggest one up and holding it's handle firm and tightly. "surely we could just," the blade sliced through the air, mimicking the swift movement of killing a crab. takuma shook in his place, "hey, queen, you should, uh, watch where you're swinging that. you might hurt yourself," he came closer to you, fingers squeezing and squishing your cheeks. "and then i would have to nurse my pretty girlfriend back to health!"

slapping his hands away playfully, you sighed, "babe, focus! what're we gonna do? i don't wanna kill the crabs..." ino put his hands on his hips, a triumphant smile on his face, "don't worry, i got this."

long story short, he did not.

"oh my god." the plastic fork slipped from takuma's hands clanking against the matching plastic container of takeout

"what?"

"we didn't do mise en place."

jjk taglist

@blendingcaramal @gzchaos @theamazingrain @woah-girlz @voloslobotomyservice

@kyozvy @obessionofagrl @bubybubsters @gojosbrat @raindropsonrwses

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@poopyyy @supernatrualqueen @bxrbie-jadeee @lailuv21

[shirefantasies]

First off, congratulations on 300 followers 🎉 I’m a big fan of your work! I was wondering if you could write about the different elf characters and how they would react to realizing they have feelings for a hobbit! reader?

Thank you & my apologies for the late response on this one 😅 but this is a fun one so let's see!

The Elves Realizing Their Feelings for Hobbit!Reader

Thranduil

Denial penetrates every corner of the woodland king's mind- such a humble creature, known not in the slightest for their ways of allure, and yet you permeate his thoughts so! Surely it was your reaction to the sight of him, the simplicity of your manner that was ever so refreshing. Thranduil knows little more than reverence to a fault, cowing and great shows and yet…you see him. You treat him as anyone else. No fanfare, but no expectations either. No doubts. Thus he works to doubt you less, to make less assumptions about your ability and even jokes about your stature. He finds as you talk that you share a love of nature, all your reverence dedicated almost solely to the earth’s growing things, the way roots seek what they need. Thranduil does the same, you point out, and ever does he endure in his place of nourishment, but sometimes any plant needs a good repotting. Astute, very astute, and yet your words strike his heart like an arrow. You, he wishes to say, are his repotting. But perhaps he should put that more romantically… all the greatest shows of elvenkind for a mere hobbit. Who would have thought? Thranduil reflects with a fond, amazed smile.

Feren

From the moment he grabbed hold of you, knife pressed to the back of your neck, Feren puzzled at the way his heartbeat sped, not yours. You were no threat to him, you were nothing in fact save an intruder in his lord Thranduil's realm, one of many his patrol took into custody. You were the smallest, he noticed, and certainly the least deadly if the startled, pleading look in your eyes was anything to go off of. Why did you keep... No, he could hardly relent, not when he had orders to- "You are afraid?" He found himself whispering to you, hiding his gaze upon you by hovering it over you and the other hobbit. You nod and he begins to whisper words of comfort to you, explaining that while stubborn, his king was nothing if not benevolent and would likely simply detain you. No harm would come your way. When indeed Thranduil sentenced your odd company to imprisonment, he found himself strolling to your cell time and time again, offering you food and drink and answering your rapid fire of questions ranging from what would happen to you to soon what customs were practiced in the Woodland Realm. "I think this place is beautiful," you told him, "I think if I were to rot anywhere, I am glad that it is to be here." "I think so, too," Feren agreed, and why he spoke the next part he still did not know, "And I do not think that shall be your fate." It was not until he walked away from you, considering what things he might bring to show you, that he realized how attracted to you he truly had become.

Legolas

Finds himself studying you, gaze unable to fall from you for too long, searching your every movement. Suddenly his interest in hobbits has increased tenfold; in fact, Legolas begins speaking more to Frodo and Sam about their customs, favorite things back in the Shire. His heart swells further for it just as you, taking in with bright eyes every spray of harebell and piping hot cup of lavender tea with scones and little gift of courtship presented to the hobbit of one's dreams. Pastoral, joyful, many delights absent from the prince's own upbringing- what a breath of fresh air you are! But what does he say to you? If possible, the elven prince finds himself even quieter than normal, simply captivated by your every motion. As a result he leans upon conveyance through action, rushing to your defense in battle and being there to catch you when you fall, enjoying in the briefest moments the feeling of his hands about your waist.

Haldir

Years have worn him. Battles have hardened him. Customs have dictated he be free of emotion as much as possible, or else suppress display of them for decorum. You, by contrast, are so innocent, almost painfully so and every sight of your wide, shining eyes has Haldir swearing to protect you. The world cannot take away your wonder, your sweetness, the good you see in all people. Oh, he cannot even wish immortal life upon you for all its horrors, and does he even wish it for himself? The small being remaining within him cries out for your life, to be swept off to your Shire and work hard at cultivating joy above all else. While that future may not lie ahead of him, he seeks it in every question he asks, every story he requests. Often does he marvel at your hidden strengths and wonders, especially in such a deceptively small package.

Galadriel

Oh, the way you charm and flatter her! Someone so small yet without any fear in the world as you spill the sweetest words before her. Galadriel cannot help smiling, especially when you gently take her hand and she sees just how small yours looks in hers. She begins to dream of ways she could hold you, how she can reach down to cup your cheeks… And then without warning she is lost in reverie. Her space is yours and you all but have free rein of her home. All from these unexpected, wildly blossoming feelings. Secretly she wishes you would still seek her out, but Galadriel knows above all that that choice is yours. She will simply have to wait and see and hope each dream she shares of simple joys like a riverside walk or even drawing closer to you in greater, deeper ways from the recesses of her mind, are shared by you…

Lindir

These unfamiliar sensations he experiences in your presence can only be one thing. The desire to run his fingers through your curls, surely soft as they appear. The way you have become his muse, inspiring more than a single song. You have a greater appreciation for arts than Lindir must admit he would have expected of the Shire-folk, and your wonder has him wishing to experience it all again for the first time. Is he to speak these things aloud? Does he dare? Whatever might Lord Elrond think if his servant were to do such a thing? Not, of course, that he has not wished Lindir great happiness. Happiness. Your smile, so genuine, sincere as your bright words. Yes, you are happiness, and such cannot go unspoken, or perhaps unsung…

Elrond

Many words have been spoken of the quiet strength of hobbits, quite a few of them by the Lord of Imladris himself. You are no exception to this, appearing before him as a little blaze of fire unafraid to make demands at council. He cannot even fight, just chuckle and hear your terms, and he wonders if you take notice of the way the others look at his soft response. Why, he wonders, is he being so giving- simple appreciation for the pastoral little folk and all they symbolize for the joy and hope of the world? Perhaps, but a part of him is forced to admit… He is attracted to you. Much time has passed since Elrond has been met with such a force, and quite simply put it stirs something in him. Much as he has endured in this world, your desire to fight for every joy you've ever known rings true to Elrond's own creation of a house of comfort...in your own special way. He cannot help but smile as he listens to you.

Arwen

Developing a little habit for teasing you, Arwen always manages to slink behind you and offer to help you reach something off a high shelf, voice low and lips curved upward. She is older than her visage suggests, wiser, thus you are not the first hobbit to cross her path and she looks upon you with no great shock. She does, however, seek to show a greater level of respect than the so-called 'little folk' tend to be shown. During discussions with her father and the other elves, Arwen smiles and waves you forward, especially if you happen to be shy, then her affection only grows, a hand falling over your shoulder and her smile widening. The more time you spend together, the more this happens, Arwen taking your hand to wish you well, sliding a hand over your waist to move past you, even playfully nudging you when you run together and always keeping pace with you. She is comfortable with you, she realizes, happiest at your side, and that is when it sinks in: she loves you.

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[chacolachao]

Something I've been thinking about since The Murder of Sonic... Where did that cake come from? I know he went and got it at the end but they stopped in a location they weren't scheduled to stop at, found a cake shop, and then bought it in a few seconds? Now, that's not the part that surprises me actually... It's the fact that the cake is customized. The kicker here is that the cake is flawless, doesn't even look rushed, AND its got a (presumably edible) image of Amy on it.

So there's a couple options here:

While on the train before getting murdered he gets on that computer that was in the back and rapid fire orders a cake from a bakery that maybe might be somewhere in the middle of their two destinations. (As this train is meant for fun events I assume it runs in a circle for this story**) He sends over an image of Amy too for edible printing. Then immediately after the train crashes he races to the bakery, wherever it may be, picks it up, and comes back with it. Definitely plausible, makes sense, though I'd have to check whether or not Shadow went for the computer room before Sonic could even get a chance to. **I don't remember if there was a specific destination

This dude gets himself murdered and immediately after the train crashes and everyone gets off, he races to the nearest bakery to pick up a premade cake. Along the way or once he gets there he sends them an image of Amy to print, using his hero clout to get it printed immediately skipping the queue. (Those things take like only a minute to print so it could work.) As he's waiting for it to print he decorates the cake. Roses could already be there but I'm assuming he wrote the words on the cake. He's the only one who could manage a rush job that well and we already know his muscle control is top-notch. Judging by his canonical signature below:

That's cursive baby, probably written quickly, but also perfectly. He could totally handle writing on a cake carefully. Photo prints, put on cake, race back.

One of these is more fun than the other and I'm too sleep addled to think it through any further.

[charles-leclerizz]

Rapid Fire Challenge: Aisha vs. Max

Aisha and Max go head-to-head in a rapid-fire question challenge. With only seconds to answer each question, they'll reveal fun facts, preferences, and more. Who will come out on top?

reading time : 8 mins 15 seconds

word count : 1.6 k [ 1650 words ]

warnings : swearing, lewd and suggestive wording, crack, not proof read

Masterlist · 🪷 Aisha · 🪷 Porsche F1 Team · 🪷

" What the fuck are you wearing?" Max looked Aisha up and down, his trademark red bull can clattering into the hollow bin next to him as he watched Aisha run a confused hand down her front before glancing cautiously back up at him.

She arched a brow at him and tugged at her strapless top, " clothes ? "

Max snorted and reached out to poke her slightly exposed mid-driff, " or lack thereof . "

Was the aggravating man wrong? Perhaps not.

In Aisha's opinion, it was a perfectly splendid ensemble. Another one of her brand parter's had generously offered her a two piece outfit, a long, flowing silk skirt that shimmered a classic Porsche silver- paired with a tight cotton, corset top that accentuated her chest with a ruffled middle piece of taffeta.

To others, it may seem over the top.

" You have the same outfit everyday. it's like you're trying to be an NPC ." Aisha plucked at his red-bull jersey with a scrunched up nose, " it's not my fault that brands love to gift me pretty things and you… well . " she fluttered her fingers at his slightly-looser-than-normal tight jeans.

" Hmm .. " he hummed, tempted to flick the stack of dainty, amrapali golden chains that sat delicately on her collarbones, " whatever you say. I'm sure Lando appreciates your outfit . "

" And what's that meant to mean ? "

" - Excuse me ? "

" Just saying - "

" Saying what ? Are you just jealous that I can pull of colours unlike you, who stays about monochromatic as a pair of granny panties . "

" Woah-h-h, big words for miss 'I'm here cause I couldn't get a modeling gig ' "

" - Excuse me ? "

" Oh, just because I have the assets - " she gestured at her breasts and face, "- to do modelling, you're bitter ? don't worry, we can get you a push up bra from Forever 21. You'll fit right in"

" Excuse me ? "

" - What ? "

" - What ? "

" We're ready for you, " an onset assistant, who looked too scandalised for her own good, motioned for them to step into the filming room.

They mouthed silent insults and unnecessarily pointed to one another, as they pushed through the inconveniently small door.

" And… we're stuck. this is all your fault max . " aisha hissed, crossing her arms as selflessly as she could muster whilst being pressed chest to chest with an equally uncomfortable Dutchman who propped a palm up- just above the crown of her head on the short doorway.

" my fault ? " he retorted, face growing redder with each second they spent sharing breath, " you're the one with india's remaining crown jewels on her person ."

" well maybe if your entitled ancestors didn - "

" oh shut up, it was the british and you know it . "

Luckily, the assistant had noticed their predicament and rushed over to undo the deadbolt lock to the second door, allowing the two to stumble away from each other.

They had thankfully remained silent as the rest of the filming crew grew more and more entertained with their squabbling, merely following the polite instructions and taking their seats as denoted by the white, masking tape markers stuck onto the plush seats.

" ROLLING "

" Welcome back everyone to a new season of formula 1 ! " the chirpy interview babbled to the largest camera before turning to the drivers who sat in line with her, watching her neutrally as they both accepted small, clip on microphones.

" Today we have … " she trailed off, giggling at Aisha who struggled to slip on the clasp of the tech in her hand, the plastic mechanism clacking obnoxiously at each failed attempt.

" Max, from our very own red bull garage ," she turned to max, who was already set himself up and was now sitting straighter in his tufted, indigo seat. He waved at the camera and politely smiled.

The interviewer glanced at Aisha as she victoriously gasped and raised her hands happily when the microphone stayed put, tucked between her skin and top, " … and aisha, rookie of the season down from porsche . "

Aisha waved at the camera, a serene smile playing on her lips.

" We're here to play a quick fire round of questions with the grids current champion , " she gestured to max, " and this years fresh meat . " she pointed her stack of cards at aisha.

" I'll be asking you both questions about each other, and whoever guesses correctly the fastest, will win a point . it's all about testing if your racing chemistry translates to real-life friendship ! "

" What friendship ? " max deadpanned, fiddling with his fingers.

" Can we do this one thing without you letting people know you hate me ? or is it too hard for the 3X world champion to multi-task ? "

The interviewer's eyes ping-ponged between them before her grin became artificially wider and she screeched a shrill, " Let's begin ! "

" alright max, what is aisha's favourite track to race ? "

the driver jumped at his name and the camera lens zoomed into his determined expression as he glanced between aisha's anticipatory face and the air, as if he were begging the particles for the answer.

" one second "

" she's said this before.. " he tried, clapping his hands nervously.

" i have, " aisha shrugged, egging him on.

" it was one of those times where she wouldn't shut up. "

" two seconds "

" come on max, it's so easy, i've raced there in f2 as well ... "

" yeah- cause i had the f2 races on while i was training, "

" three seconds "

" wow you're bad at this, " aisha huffed out, landing back against her chair with a relaxed flop.

max bounced his knee, forcibly shutting his eyes and harshly pressing his fingers into them as he pieced together his answer, " it's... shit... is it ?.. suzuka ? "

"- oh for fuck sake ! "

" - you are correct ! one point to max "

CURRENT SCORE : 0 - 1

" okay, aisha, If max could race in any era of Formula 1, past or present, which one would she choose ? "

" how come i get the piss hard one ? "

" cause you'll never actually get hard otherwise.." max mumbled.

" oh fuck off. "

" language guys, our editors aren't paid enough to censor all of this ."

aisha hooked her ankles together before leaning forward and hummed thoughtfully, " maybe... i don't think he's even mentioned this..." she plucked at her dangling earring as she continued to oscillate in recollection.

he shrugged, " i don't think i have actually."

" one second "

" wait... wait..." aisha hurried out, holding her palm out, " i have to choose wether he's too egotistical for my geuss.."

" oh please, " max sassed, " take your time, i'm sure my ego has alot to dissect. "

aisha scrunched up her face sourly, " yeah it does- like your unsolved daddy issues. "

" always the daddy issues ." he threw his hands up, " atleast be creative."

" two seconds "

" okay okay, hmmm, the 2021 season ? " aisha screwed her eyes shut, just incase she was wrong, " he would love to relive his first WDC . "

" that is..." the interviewer patted her legs quickly, continously creating a monotonous beating sound, " correct ! point to aisha . "

CURRENT SCORE : 1 - 1

" last one for max, if he gets this one, he wins, if not, then aisha gets a chance . "

max nodded determinedly, his mouth set in a hard line, "ready."

" wow, okay, " the interviewer gawked at his statue-like intensity, " uhm, what is aisha's pre-race ritual . "

aisha kicked her chin up, ready to watch max blubber over his last question, nobody knows her pre-race ritual, she was diligent enough to keep it hidden.

" so, i know she calls her parents around.. an hour before the race, " he paused mid-way to grin like a cheshire at her increasingly suspicious look, " and, i also know she has a playlist she listens to, mostly hozier.. but, without fail she.." max snaps his fingers, the final peice flickering to life like a broken tube light, "... she always.. can i say this ? "

aisha's face popped, cheeks flushing dangerously quickly, " can he ? "

" i.." the interviewer looked out the small tech crowd behind the camera who all gave her the same, confused shrug, ushering her to continue, " i assume so."

" she always wears.. ehm.. a pair of white underwear ." he mumbles the last phrase, avoiding eye-contact with anyone within the room whilst scratching the back of his neck.

" max ! " aisha smacked his shoulder in outrage, "wha- i mean why- but how ? " she spat out, her words merging within eachother until they tumbled out in an unintelligble spew.

" we didn't get that, she wears what ? "

" white.. undergarments, " max hesitantly answered.

the interviewer blinked a few times before gulping heavily and clearing her throat, " well thats a gross violation ! but let's just gloss over that. "

CURRENT SCORE : 1 - 2

" and for the sake of not continuing this hell-game, max is the winner. congratulations. " she clapped her hand gently against her queue cards.

"yeah.. well done.. bro " aisha muttered, dissociating from her surroundings to protect herself from further embarrassment that may just allow her already erratic heart to jump out of her ribcage.

" i don't feel like a winner," max joined her monotone lilt, eyes wide and wet, maintaing an unwwavering stare at the white wall that stood proud behind the myriad of wires.

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[kaisfruit]

Hi! how's your day going?

I'd like to request the ninja from Ninjago and an older sibling reader if that alright? You know just cute fluffy days with siblings.

Ninjago Older Sibling!Reader Headcanons <3

A/N; Ahhh hi!!! my day is good ty <3 tysm for this ask this is so cute 🥺🥺 i hope u dont mind hcs, but if u do feel free to ask again and i'll gladly make smthn longer :] jus thought hcs fit the vibe

warnings; none! just fluff <3

Kai and Nya

Absolutely the most chaotic sibling trio

Nya constantly getting upset with you and Kai for playing the "i'm the older sibling" card

Nya: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GUYS DIDN'T SAVE A PIECE FOR ME?

You and Kai: older siblings get cake first that's just the rule. sorry <33

But Kai gets just as upset as she does when you do it to him

You guys all love each other though so it's okay

Just the vibes of being their older sibling would be the most competitive basic sibling rivalry type stuff yk

Lloyd

Constantly doting over him

You might as well be his parental figure since MISAKO AND GARMADON WERE THE WORSTTTTT

You and Kai take turns mother henning him

You and Kai are bffs btw like. I don't make the rules. Kai is just his adoptive older brother in my head, so you two bond over caring for Lloyd

Definitely his comfort person after a long day <3

You're the one Lloyd trusts the most in his life and he isn't scared to tell you his fears because, despite any assumed sibling teasing, he knows you'll take him seriously on that regard

Jay

You guys make annoying each other a full time job

Constantly fighting over who the favorite is

Y/N: At least I help out at the junkyard!!

Jay: I'm literally out saving the world everyday!!!

*aggressive slap fight ensues*

OMG no. he's definitely the younger sibling to pull the rapid fire kick tactic

His elemental abilities go out the window when y'all fight. Just straight up, falls on his back and starts kicking up at you

All fun n games until you're able to catch one of his legs

You totally embarrass him as much as you can in front of Nya too

As Jay's older sibling, you're legally obligated to be Cole's bestie since Cole is Jay's bestie. you guys lovingly torment the lightning user together <33

Cole

The most chill sibling duo to ever exist

you both didn't appreciate Lou's insistence of the singing and dancing shit so y'all just decided to be ride or dies for life

much like cole, you get along so well with the rest of the ninja

idrk what to say here

nvm i do

You guys play video games with each other and you are infinitely salty at the fact that your younger brother is better than you at most video games

like wtf? isn't it supposed to be a god given right for all older siblings to be better at video games???? the FSM screwed you!!!

but you've never let him live down the one time he lost to you at super smash bros

you have refused to play with him since

Zane

See, idk if you'd be his ACTUAL sibling yk since he's a robot? maybe more like you were supposed to be a protege to dr. julien, but decided to just be a 4 lyfer with zane after his passing

you've helped zane understand human culture so much and he's real appreciative of your existence

the ninja absolutely fucking ADORE when you're around because what's better than one zane? TWO ZANES !!!

well, obviously you're your own person but! i could see zane adopting a lot of your mannerisms so you two end up being very similar

quality time is y'alls bread and butter

working around each other perfectly as y'all both cook in the kitchen

words never need to be shared between the two of you. just hanging around the other is enough yk? like y'all are bonding just by existing near each other and it is magical

ANOTHER A/N; i tried my best to highlight reader being the older sibling but </3 idk if i did it that well. i saw "sibling fluff" and RAN!! im willing to do a pt 2 or like a one shot or anything with a prompt similar to this !! im the youngest sibling myself tho so idk if i can properly portray being an older sibling (only in a mean light. yk like greg heffley and rodrick. do NOT recommend having older siblings y'all /j)

[allastoredeer]

My favorite appleradio dynamic is prejudiced Lucifer x sassy bitch Alastor.

In Dad Beat Dad, Alastor may have started the passive aggressive jabs, but Lucifer escalated to death threats (Alastor's head on a plate) with shocking ease.

Like: "Okay, Luci. You're at a 10 and I need you at a 2." Man literally needed less than half a reason to start that Loony Tunes bout.

I like to imagine it's a side effect of his need to control everything. Like he was fighting both sides of the argument rapid fire in his head and was then meeting the escalation of an imaginary Alastor.

Sort of like how he answered for/with Charlie when she thanked him mid-song for offering his help free of charge.

It's the type of overreaction that someone that aggravates others for fun would love! Enter Alastor, Certified Public Troll with only a passing acquaintance with self-preservation.

New Mission: How far can I go before this could be considered self-destructive tendencies?

Alastor unintentionally disproving Lucifer's "All sinners are the same" philosophy by just being the worst... and then Lucifer has to face the horrifying realization that he likes the bastard. XD

Lucifer: All sinners are bad.

Alastor: *being the absolute worst person Lucifer's ever met*

Lucifer: You know what, maybe other Sinners aren't that bad actually

But yes, prejudiced!Lucifer x sassybitch!Alastor is my bread and butter. It's so good. They clash so much and that's what makes it fun.

And literally, Alastor may have been passive aggressive first, but the way Lucifer ramped it up was impressive. I made a post before going over the scene when they officially met, and, like, Alastor's comments overall? Not very antagonist. Or, the words at least. Passive aggressive, sure, but the most outright antagonistisitc he got was when he called Lucifer short.

Whereas it was immediate dislike on Lucifer's side.

All Alastor said was (both in response to Lucifer's reaction to his bar and the very first time they spoke to each other): Just some of the renovations we had done. Adds a bit of color! Don't you think?

And THIS was Lucifer's face ⬇️

"And you are?"

Like, Alastor didn't even sound that passive aggressive. The most I could give him was the smirky little face he gave Lucifer

(god, why is Alastor so pretty right here though??? maybe that's why Lucifer was so mad. Boi turn down those bedroom eyes, Luci can't think. That was Alastor's first plan. He was going to seduce the king of Hell, but then Lucifer insulted his bar, and he decided they were throwing hands instead).

I'm of the opinion that Lucifer was antagonist towards Alastor first and Alastor was just matching his energy (albeit very readily LMAO his eye was twitching the moment Lucifer walked through the door).

Also, yes, thank you for bringing up Lucifer answering for Charlie, cuz I think that's something a lot of people overlook.

Well, maybe he didn't answer for her exactly. I imagine it's just what he wanted her to say, but still, look at Charlie's face ⬇️

She doesn't look very comfortable.

In fact, she looked awkward, annoyed, frustrated, and uncomfortable throughout most of her interactions with Lucifer in this episode.

(there's a lot more but tumblr has a picture limit)

Wheras, this is what she was like with Alastor:

like

DAMN

Okay Luci, I see why your insecurities were firing on all cylinders.

We all know that Alastor wasn't genuine about being a father figure to her, but there has to be something to his and Charlie's relationship if she's looking at him like this. Especially in front of Lucifer.

I'm getting off topic though, I could do a WHOLE other post on my thoughts about Charlie's relationship with Lucifer VS Charlie's relationship with Alastor, and why it is the way that it is.

Anyway, yes, I agree with you. Lucifer 100% escalated the fight between him and Alastor. He went from zero to sixty with no hesitation, and he wasn't even AWARE of Alastor and Charlie's relationship yet. Essentially, the way I see it, he was acting that way toward Alastor for the sole reason that he's a Sinner which is the definition of prejudice.

And I want to clarify to anyone reading this, this isn't me hating on Lucifer. I love Lucifer. I love his character and his flaws and his insecurities. I love the way it all affects how he interacts with other characters, both negatively and positively. This is what makes him so interesting to me.

He holds so much capacity for love while also being so heavily flawed and it is 😙👌 delicious.

[awkward-walking-potato]

How would Wade care for a reader on their period?

Period Panic Prevention

You and Wade were curled up on the couch, surrounded by a sea of blankets and pillows. The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the TV as an action-comedy played out on the screen. It wasn’t anything particularly deep or emotional—just the kind of mindless fun that you both enjoyed after a long day.

Wade had one arm draped around your shoulders, his other hand holding a bowl of popcorn that was slowly being devoured. His occasional commentary and quips about the movie kept you laughing, but there was a strange tightness in your chest that you couldn’t quite shake.

As the movie went on, you found yourself getting inexplicably teary-eyed. You tried to blink it away, but the feeling only grew stronger. It wasn’t long before a lump formed in your throat, and your eyes started to well up.

Wade noticed immediately. Of course, he did—nothing got past him, especially when it came to you.

“Hey, uh, you okay, babe?” he asked, glancing down at you with a mix of confusion and concern. “This is the part where they blow stuff up, not the part where you start bawling your eyes out.”

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I—I don’t know. I’m fine. I just—” Your voice cracked, and suddenly, you were crying in earnest, your shoulders shaking as the tears spilled over.

Wade was flabbergasted. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey! What’s going on? Did I miss something? Did they slip in a tragic backstory I wasn’t paying attention to?”

You shook your head, trying to catch your breath between sobs. “No, it’s not that. I don’t know why I’m crying. It’s just… everything feels so overwhelming.”

Wade’s expression shifted from bewildered to understanding in an instant. He’d seen this before—several times, in fact. And each time, it took him a minute to put two and two together, but once he did, the solution was clear.

“Babe,” he said gently, brushing a tear off your cheek with his thumb, “do you think your period might be coming up?”

You paused, sniffling again as you tried to think through the haze of emotions. “Maybe… I haven’t really been keeping track, but it could be.”

Wade nodded, now in full detective mode. “Okay, okay, I got this. You just hang tight for a second.”

Before you could ask what he was up to, Wade was off the couch and out of the room, leaving you with a confusing mix of emotions and a vague sense of embarrassment. But then again, this was Wade—he wasn’t the type to shy away from anything, especially when it came to taking care of you.

A few minutes later, he came back into the living room, a triumphant look on his face as he presented you with a basket that looked like it had been assembled by someone who took their job very seriously.

“There we go!” Wade announced, setting the basket down in front of you. “The ultimate period survival kit, courtesy of yours truly.”

You stared at the basket in surprise, your tears momentarily forgotten as you took in the assortment of items he’d gathered. There were tampons and pads of various sizes, a hot water bottle, a box of your favorite chocolates, a bottle of painkillers, some herbal tea, and even a couple of face masks. It was like a one-stop shop for everything you could possibly need during your period.

“Wade…” you began, your voice thick with emotion, though for a completely different reason now.

But Wade wasn’t done yet. “Hold on, there’s more! I ran you a bath—it’s nice and hot, just the way you like it. And after that, I’ve got your comfiest PJs laid out on the bed. Oh, and don’t worry about dinner, I ordered your favorite takeout. It should be here by the time you’re out of the tub.”

He said all of this in a rapid-fire burst, like he’d been planning it for hours instead of just a few minutes. You blinked at him, overwhelmed by the sheer thoughtfulness of it all.

“Wade, this is… You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Didn’t have to?” Wade said, raising an eyebrow. “Babe, this is exactly what I have to do. You’re feeling like crap, and I’m not about to let you go through that without the proper tools, ya know?”

You felt another wave of emotion coming on, but this time it was one of deep affection and gratitude rather than inexplicable sadness. You reached out and pulled Wade into a tight hug, burying your face in his chest as the tears started up again—only these were the good kind.

“Thank you,” you mumbled against his shirt, your voice muffled but sincere. “This means so much to me.”

Wade hugged you back just as tightly, one hand gently rubbing your back. “Hey, it’s no big deal. Besides, you do the same for me, right? And I’m way more of a mess on the regular.”

You chuckled through your tears, lifting your head to look up at him. “Maybe, but this is different. This is… I don’t know, it just makes me feel really loved.”

Wade’s gaze softened, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “That’s the idea, babe. You’re stuck with me, so I’m gonna make sure you’re as happy and comfortable as possible. And if that means putting together an emergency period basket, then that’s what I’ll do.”

You smiled up at him, feeling a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the hot water bottle. “You’re the best, Wade.”

“I know,” he replied with a smirk, though there was a softness in his eyes that belied the bravado. “Now, go enjoy that bath before it gets cold. I’ll be here when you’re done—food ready, blankets fluffed, the whole nine yards.”

With one last kiss, you reluctantly pulled away and headed toward the bathroom. As you slipped into the warm, soothing water, you couldn’t help but marvel at how lucky you were. Wade might have been unconventional in a lot of ways, but when it came to taking care of you, he never missed a beat.

When you emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a fluffy towel and feeling much more relaxed, you found the fluffy pajamas Wade had promised laid out on the bed, along with a small note.

“Just remember: Even when the world’s a pain in the ass, I’ve got your back (and your chocolate). –W.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as you slipped into the pajamas, feeling the soft fabric against your skin. By the time you made it back to the living room, Wade had everything set up perfectly—your favorite takeout, a stack of fluffy blankets, and your favorite movie queued up on the TV.

As you settled back into your spot next to him, Wade wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. The two of you dug into the food, the warmth of the meal and Wade’s presence soothing any lingering discomfort.

“You know,” you said after a few bites, “you really didn’t have to go all out like this. But I’m so glad you did.”

Wade smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always made your heart skip a beat. “Anything for you, babe. Anything at all.”

And with that, the two of you settled in for the rest of the evening, the earlier tears forgotten as you basked in the warmth of Wade’s love and care. It was moments like these that reminded you just how special your relationship with him was—chaotic, unconventional, and absolutely perfect.

[madamdionysia]

Plasma (Law x GN!Reader)

Summary: Law never brings up his tattoos and their story. Then you ask him one day.

Word Count: 1,056

Read on Ao3

Dividers By: @cafekitsune (thank you for all of your work!)

Notes: My thoughts about Law's tattoos and how Corazon caught fire spiraled into this. I also don't go in depth with the Donquixote Family side of matters, including the exact details of Cora's spying and muteness. It's mostly just a conversation between Law and the reader about his tattoos that could be read platonically or romantically. My medical knowledge isn't up to par with Law's, but I did my best.

Takes place sometime post-Zou.

Unedited (mostly) but I'm still happy with how it turned out.

Fun facts:

Ancient tattoo pigments were made from soot, charcoal, and such.

Plasma is a component of blood, but it is also used to describe a state of matter. Whether or not fire is a plasma depends mostly on its temperature.

It feels like an eon has passed since the question left your lips, tumbling to the ground between the two of you like dried timber ready to catch flame. Law’s lips parted, his eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but he tugged his hat over his face and schooled his expression with such rapidity you would have thought you offended him. But you know him better. Offering him your silence while he gathered himself wasn’t uncommon in this relationship, and Law was grateful for it right now as his inked hands ran through his hair.

He sighed, a sound of his relentment, and let his power take you to his quarters. For his own privacy. He wasn’t one to show vulnerability. Between his duties as captain and doctor, as well as his troubled past, you knew he had to be quick to think and act. Emotions would only hinder that swiftness required for survival.

Law starts with his hands, the word DEATH across both knuckles. The irony of his profession is not lost on you until he detailed Doflamingo’s plot for Law to give his own life for the bastard’s eternal one. If Doflamingo wanted life, the healing touch of a doctor, Law would be certain that he would never get it. When you point out that most tattoos across the first phalanges face away from the owner of them, Law corrected you.

“Proximal phalanges.”

“Whatever.”

You punctuated your statement with an eye roll and continued listening to him. He obtained his Devil Fruit powers before his tattoos, this you knew, but since ascertaining much of his abilities he decided on the placement of the tattoos. Not only for that pink feathered demon, but also for his enemies in general. A warning for what was to become of them.

The back of his hand related to his medical knowledge, as did the central part of the forearm design. And the surrounding prongs of his Jolly Roger. All symbolizing the extruding envelope proteins of a virus. The remaining circular designs on his forearms were both reminiscent of another virus design but also incorporated the Room ability of his powers. The spiked spheres surrounding the viral symbols representing another aspect of his doctoral talents, much like the rest of his ink explained thus far.

“It’s also a lymphocyte eradicating a virus.”

“A what?”

“A white blood cell.”

“Oh. Well, at least your Jolly Roger tat is self-explanatory.”

“Yes and no, I’ll get to that.”

He took a deep breath, steading himself once more. Then he removes his shirt, folding it neatly beside him on the bed. He scratched at the back of his head, his ink stretching and flexing with the skin it's permanently embedded in. Law lets his arms fall back to his sides.

“I never tell those about the man that saved me…”

But here he was, detailing his early years to you regardless. You listen quietly, giving him the space to dredge the words up through memories long buried. The fire set to his hometown. The loss of his loved ones. The manipulation of Doflamingo and the subsequent escape with his brother.

“Corazon means heart. His brother awarded him the Heart Seat when he returned, feigning muteness…”

So this was how his upper arms earned their hearts, you thought, for the one who saved him.

“Muteness?”

“Part of his cover, let me get there.“

And apparently Corazon held a clumsy streak, nearly setting himself on fire multiple times. Law went off the subject for a moment to list the various pranks the other Donquixote family members would play on the poor guy. But as it turned out, Law found out that Doffy’s younger brother was a commander in the Marines. No one called him by his real name, except his eldest brother as Rosinante lay on his deathbed of snow.

“When I first joined the family, Corazon would try his hardest to get me to leave. He didn’t like seeing children under his brother’s influence.”

A pang echoed in your chest, like a can crumpling. No one should have been under that influence, but you kept this to yourself. You had decided you had interrupted Law enough during his explanation and that you didn’t want him to recede back internally with the memories. It was best that he lay them out, like his surgical tools cleansed and neatly arranged to be used for his benefit. Perhaps it was a good thing, you thought, for him to get all of this off of his chest. Though the ink would stay.

“The last time I saw him was with this huge grin…”

He gestured to the Jolly Roger embroidered on your clothes. A toothy, rebellious smile. Much like the tattoos on his hands, that defiant DEATH in the face of Doflamingo. You let out a low chuckle, letting your thoughts process it all.

“And this heart…”

He placed a hand over his chest now, palm covering that miniature grin as if to hold Corazon. Above his fingers spread the tendrils of flame, curved and clinging to his clavicles in such a way that they shifted and flickered like a real blaze.

“…Well, he was named for a heart and he caught on fire a lot…”

Law’s sweet, you realized, and had a wicked sense of humor. He elaborated that it initially symbolized that burning revenge he felt, a scorching desire to overcome the Heavenly Demon and take victory over him in memory of Corazon. Thoughts swirled in your head, ashes swept up by smoke. The conversation smoldered and glowed now like the remnants of the campfire on Zou, still warm and comforting against the chill of night.

“How come you never tell anyone else about your tattoos?”

“Too much explanation.”

“Then how come you told me?”

Law smirked and replied, “I don’t think I need to worry about you.”

Cryptic as always, you lamented, but he’s right. You weren’t one for divulging other’s secrets. Even as the conversation died out and Law shrugged his shirt back on, you couldn’t help but wonder if there’s anyone else that Law would let under his skin. If one day, the bridge between the two of you gave way to an inferno. That he would then collect the soot and charcoal left over, as deep as the pigment that’s marked on his body.