#sorry if some of them sound more detailed than others

[ikuzeminna]

What does a goose have to do with any of it...?

We're all wondering what the heck Tallgeese is supposed to be derived from, so I decided to do some research and the result is either ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ or a Simone Biles level routine of mental gymnastics, which, notably, is not allowed to stick the landing.

But I finally figured out what Epyon is supposed to mean (which is an utter embarrassment that it took me so long, I'm so sorry @tinyozlion), so hooray for small victories, at least.

So first things first, let's get Epyon's etymology out of the way. The mobile suit name Epyon, phonetically /ˈe.pion/, is likely derived from the Ancient Greek word επιόν, phonetically /e.piˈon/, which means "the next one/the future one." Awfully fitting considering the characters treat Epyon and its system as though it can tell the future. I also find it hilarious how the Greek wiki page features a translation, whereas the English version just assumes everyone is fluent in Attic.

As if.

Bonus information for linguists:

Here's the excuse I have for not finding out sooner Epyon is apparently taken from επιόν. Επιόν is the present active participle, neuter nominative/accusative/vocative singular, of the verb ἔπειμι (épeimi), according to Attic inflectional endings, with the verb having various meanings, among them "to exist in the future/to approach/to attack" etc.

This means that επιόν is not a word you can directly look up in a dictionary, like the one I have lying around. You need to know it's derived from ἔπειμι and then know your Attic declension to reach this form. All I wanna know right now is who the Ancient Greek buff at Sunrise was who's to credit for this. Because this was in the era before anyone even thought of uploading translations of Ancient Greek words onto the worldwide web. And how you end up with one suit having a name you need to have studied a dead language for and another named after statuesque waterfowl.

Ikeda, I have questions.

On an additional note, επιών, the masculine singular, sounds the same phonetically, but since Epyon is a mobile suit and thus an object, it makes more sense to go with the neuter. Unlike with humans and animals, things don't usually have a gender in Greek unless it's a loanword.

Okay, so now that Epyon is figured out, let's look at Tallgeese. This one is a wild ride.

For the sake of argument, we'll step away from the goose thing for a second. Tallgeese in Japanese is spelled トールギス (Tōrugisu), which, taking Japanese's limits into account and the translated Amazon.co.jp listings of the mobile suit's various gunpla kits, means we could write Tallgeese as anything ranging from "Tallgis" to "Torgis." I've seen all kinds of spellings for it. (The obscure ones sometimes let you find a kit at a very reasonable price.)

So let's look at what theme OZ suits adhere to. Here's a list of all of them:

OZ-00MS Tallgeese

OZ-02MD Virgo

OZ-06MS Leo

OZ-07AMS Aries

OZ-07MS Tragos (Greek for Capricorn)

OZ-08MMS Cancer

OZ-09MMS Pisces

OZ-12SMS Taurus

OZ-13MS Epyon

OZ-13MSX1 Vayeate

OZ-13MSX2 Mercurius

Bonus: battleship Libra

The grunt suits are all in the 01-12 range, which corresponds to the Zodiac constellations being 12, even if they don't care about the correct order. Tallgeese, Epyon, Vayeate and Mercurius are the only ones outside this Zodiac range, so time to look at what other constellations there are.

Turns out there are 88 of them by now. 48 originally if we go with Ptolemy's version.

Let's look at the suit to find some hints as to what we're looking for.

The red front-to-back plume evokes Roman or Spartan military. The round shield is definitely closer to trademark Spartan than Roman, so coupled with the death wish you need to pilot it, I'd say Spartan is a reasonable pick.

I mean, if it fits, it fits.

The other interesting detail about Tallgeese is the yellow bird emblem on the shield, which it doesn't have in the series because it probably would have been too much of a pain to animate. The gunpla feature it though.

Here's the Tallgeese, and the Tallgeese Flügel version.

The emblem on the shield is tinier, but it's there, and it's added to the giant wings as well. The reasonable assumption is that that's an eagle, which happens to exist as a constellation. Aquila, or rather Aëtos, and more specifically the Aetos Dios, "was a giant, golden eagle which served as Zeus' personal messenger and animal companion."

Tallgeese would be equated to Zeus then, since the suit obviously isn't the golden eagle itself, being all white. If we view Tallgeese as the father of all mobile suits and consider that Zeus fathered... honestly, everyone and his dog in Greek mythology <_<, it fits.

So, do we have a constellation that is something big, white, preferably with wings, that's connected to Zeus? Yup, there is the swan, Cygnus, or Kyknos if you prefer Greek, which has a very interesting story of how it ended up in the night sky.

Turns out it's another one of Zeus' romantic adventures where he transformed into a swan to seduce Leda, the queen of Sparta.

"Leda was a queen of Sparta, the wife of King Tyndareus, who was seduced by Zeus in the guise of the swan. There were several versions of the parentage of her children:- Some say she laid an egg from which were hatched the Dioskouroi (Dioscuri) twins, Kastor and Polydeukes, both sons of Zeus. Others say she laid two eggs each containing a child of Zeus and a child of Tyndareus--Polydeukes and Kastor in one, and Helene and Klytaimnestra (Clytemnestra) in the other. Yet others relate that the second egg, containing just Helene, was delivered to Leda by the goddess Nemesis who had lain it after coupling with Zeus in the guise of a goose."

....We have arrived at the goose.

Fun fact: geese, swans and ducks are grouped into one family (anatidae). This is an important tidbit as things will become very dumb from this point onward.

Because I may have gotten Spartan, golden eagle, giant white bird and predecessor all consolidated under the Cygnus constellation, but etymologically, "Tallgeese" is nowhere near anything I've discussed so far. :(

It doesn't sound like Cygnus, it doesn't sound like Zeus, or any child of his with the Spartan queen. It doesn't even sound Greek, and yes, I checked more carefully this time. The best I can give is στοργής (storgís) which would be the genitive form of the word "affection," which could fit with the swan story if you reach enough to rival Luffy, but doesn't explain where the S went. The other option is οργή (orgí) which means fury, but is missing the T.

So I got the theme of the suit figured out, I think, but the name? Nope.

Is there maybe a star in the Cygnus constellation that sounds like Tallgeese or even just tall or geese?

Nope. I checked the other birds as well, like the eagle or the dove. Nothing. I checked if there was any star at all that sounded anything like tall or geese and the closest I got was Gliese 581, which is a red dwarf in the Libra constellation and not visible to the naked eye.

Fun fact: there is also Vulpecula et Anser, the Fox and Goose, which have been reduced to just the fox in modern constellations, so we did have a goose up there in ancient times.

All these dead ends lead to three options:

I'm either looking at the wrong language and Tallgeese or Torgis or whatever is close to the word for swan in a different language

Ikeda is trolling and it really is a tall goose or

I'm off my rocker and the Tallgeese was never associated with Cygnus to begin with. Which would call the goose into question again.

So, which one is it?

¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

The final season of Sailor Moon never fails to have me in tears because of the absolute hilarity that are the Sailor Starlights' attacks. Sailor Star Fighter's attack is "Star Serious Laser." Sailor Star Healer's is "Star Sensitive Inferno", which already has me go ???? But it's Sailor Star Maker who breaks me with her "Star Gentle Uterus." I have no idea what that lady is throwing, but I know I don't wanna get hit by it.

What I mean to showcase here is that [random adjective] + [random noun] = perfectly fine attack name for a Japanese manga/anime in the 90s.

It's hard to believe that the crew who had ridiculously specific knowledge of Ancient Greek would just derp with English, but what if they did? Let's say they wanted to name the suit after Cygnus, but in a language different from Latin or Greek to cement it is an outlier, while also pointing out that it is bigger than normal suits, so they got "tall" but landed on goose instead of swan because someone mixed them up. And it's "geese" and not "goose" because it's a nod to there being more than one Tallgeese, especially since Japanese doesn't even differentiate between singular and plural.

....

Look, I tried.

[thisnameisnotspokenfor]

Because some of you are far faster than I anticipated....

Here are the first few pages of next chapter/scrapped pages of the last chapter

WARNING: DO NOT READ THIS UNLESS YOU HAVE READ CHAPTER 37. I AM SERIOUS >:(

ETA: I did add a little extra onto the snippet as a 'sorry' for some of you ToT

She nodded and silently listened as the star gestured to the surrounding glowing trees. “When the order had been finally established, a primordial star decided to give up her spot in the sky, opting instead to stay on earth to guide the order and firmly cement its placement as the bridge between our worlds. It was a move that impressed the other stars, and to show their support for the newly found order, they made the Asterius that you saw in the market. One created and cultivated from the power of each court to symbolize its unity within the order.”

“Was there any particular reason why they chose a tree of all things as a symbol?” she asked, as she stared at the glowing trees, gently swaying in the night breeze.

“Yeah…but what’s with your tone? Trees are cool!” he frowned, almost sounding offended.

“They’re alright…but I mean why do stars take such interest in them if they’re practically everywhere? Surely you guys must have cooler things than just…trees!”

“We do but…Have you ever noticed that no matter how far into the heavens a tree can ascend it must always stay rooted to the earth to survive? It never forgets its origins, no matter how far or great it grows…” he smiled thoughtfully as his foot scuffed against the ground. “Isn’t that something?”

Asha slowly nodded, and turned her eyes upwards “Hmm I guess it does sound a bit more…fascinating when you describe it like that…but why do yours glow?”

The star hummed thoughtfully as he rubbed his chin, “Well, the short scientific and aesthetic answer would be bioluminescence to attract nocturnal pollinators. Plus you can always appreciate their beauty no matter what time of day. It makes the forests nicer, doesn’t it?”

She nodded in agreement, “It does. But what’s the long answer?”

“Well,” he started as he straightened himself. “I don’t know the details exactly but I think it’s also because of their connection to some greater network of energy both with each other and the world around them. One of my nannies would always tell me about it when I was little and couldn’t stop climbing them but it’s pretty convoluted if I’m being honest.”

“A network of energy…” she whispered as her eyes trailed the trees’ glowing roots. “Like your energy?”

“Something like that,” he shrugged before thoughtfully staring at the sky. “I mean they sort of come from our world…so I guess it only makes sense that they would act like that…”

“You know before you told me all of this, I never would’ve thought that something as simple as a tree could hold so much meaning in the grand scheme of things,” she confessed. “Sure there was the wishing tree, but that felt more like a relic than anything else…not some political  cosmic display of diplomacy…”

“You’d be surprised…there’s a reason why most Asterius made today are no longer created by all four courts…”

“They aren’t?” she asked, a bit taken aback as the star shook his head.

“No not anymore, not since Deneb’s asterius came into the picture…”

“Deneb has an asterius?”

“Most members of the royal star families and high-ranking nobles do…but few have a tree as controversial as hers….” he hesitated as if mentally debating over something before he eventually nodded and turned to her. “Asha” he stated suddenly as she straightened herself in sudden preparation. “You remember how when we were in the forest you told me that you knew that the crimson court hated Deneb because of your father’s writings, right?”

“Right,” she nodded, trying not to shift uncomfortably. Somewhere in the depths of her mind, she could hear the king’s voice whispering to her. She couldn’t make out what he was saying but she was too afraid to find out.

“Did your father ever state why?” The star asked, thankfully silencing the king’s muffled voice as she shook her head. 

“No…his master had been vague about the situation…but from what I could tell, it seemed as if the bad blood between the two parties was a little more extensive than just the courts…it seemed like it involved the council too…”

“It did,” Cepheus carefully nodded. “But did he say anything else?”

“Well…he theorized that it was the result of some act of defiance she did a few years ago that involved her children…you wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

“I do,” he confessed. “I don’t know if you’ll like the story but I suppose for you to understand anything I’ll need to give you a few details…”

He gestured for her to follow as they slowly began to near the forest. “I’m not sure if I’ve told you this explicitly,” he started as the glowing trees and shrubbery began to surround them.   “but the crimson court and cerulean court have always had a mutual hatred of each other. They’ve led countless wars and battles against each other long before the order,  Deneb, and her children ever entered the picture.”

“Why?” She asked as she ducked beneath a low-hanging branch. “Was it differing philosophies? Scandalous love?” She asked the star who’d somehow managed to put a rather large walking distance between them. “Cultural differences? Why did they hate each other?”

He paused as if listening out for something before she finally made her way to his side, “Differing philosophies and a bloodthirsty competitiveness to conquer the galaxies,” the star frowned and abruptly looked away. Had…had he been ashamed of his court’s past? She wondered before he quietly continued, “Nevertheless it all seemed to come to a head when during one of these battles…the council, being as senile as they were, had grown both tired and indifferent to the constant fighting. So they decided to exercise their powers to ensure peace would prevail, one that, unlike their past attempts, could not be so easily dismissed…” The star sighed, slowly moving his hand as the air around his fingers began to glow a soft misty blue.

Slowly the world around them began to ripple, and blur.

She blinked, trying to rub the uneasiness from her eyes as her surroundings slowly began to come into focus as she looked around. They were still in a forest, that much she could be sure of as the familiar sight of large, thick glowing forestry greeted her.

But where the distant town of Banquo had once stood was gone, and in its place was a seemingly endless glowing body of water. 

Were they…at the beach? No this couldn’t have been the beach, at least not one she’d been familiar with. Her eyes traced along the light blue shoreline as she took one hesitant step forward before rubbing her eyes in disbelief.

The beach was glowing. Real beaches didn’t glow. But the feel of the calm sea breeze passing through her braids had nearly convinced her otherwise.

“Wait…” she started, looking around. “Is this another illusion like what you did with the scrolls?”

“Something of the sort,” the star smiled as he spoke from behind her. “Are you enjoying the view?”

She nodded, before looking around again, “Yeah! It’s…beautiful -,” her voice trailed off as she took in the sight of the star who’s skin was now a beautiful shade of cyan, while his hair was nearly white. 

Was this what a blue star looked like? She wondered, as she looked him over and over again.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been staring, but it was enough to earn herself an all too knowing grin as the star arrogantly extended a sapphire colored wing. “I was talking about the sea, but if you think I’m beautiful as well, and wish to stare,” he chuckled as another wing revealed itself. “then by all means, my dear-,” 

“What?!” She scoffed, before waving her hands dismissively as she looked away. Thank God her blushes weren’t visible. “Ha! No! No way! I was talking about the beach! Not you! It’s the beach that’s beautiful, see?! You’re just…blue!” 

“Mmhmm.” He hummed teasingly as his now gray colored iris seemed bright with laughter. “Well either way I hope you enjoy either view you choose to partake in….although I must admit asha…. That the sea, is unfortunately not located where your eyes are currently focused.” 

“I know that!” She snapped and sharply turned to face the body of water, hoping to enjoy any semblance of peace that she could get.

[sorinethemastermind]

Sorvus Week 2024 | Prompt: Hearts of Cinder (No Warnings Apply)

 Corvus knew that something was wrong the moment Soren wasn’t there to greet him and Ezran. And it wasn’t just that, nobody seemed to have seen him. Not since the attack, which at least Opeli was able to confirm that he’d made it out of. Corvus had been over the camp twice, even ducking into a few tents to check if he was there. He wasn’t. But several frustrated civilians were. 

 It wasn’t until his nerves calmed that he was able to think about it logically. He was a tracker, after all. If anyone could find Soren, it would be him. So he did.

 He went through the entire camp searching for the familiar tread of Soren’s boots, finally spotting them by the clearing’s edge. Corvus followed them into the woods, wondering why his friend would have gone there. It wasn't like him. Soren rarely liked to be alone, and more than that, with everything that had happened, it only made sense for him to be at the center of what was going on back at the camp. Soren never turned his back on someone in need. It was one of the things Corvus respected about him most.

 And yet here his tracks were, leading off into the woods. Corvus walked for a while, picking his way through the steadily thickening foliage until he began to hear the burbling of a nearby stream. And that was where he found Soren.

 At first he didn’t understand why his friend would be sitting like that, hunched over and staring into the water. His first instinct was fear, that somehow he’d gotten hurt. But that didn’t make any more sense than him wandering off into the woods. And then he spotted the little things, the small details that he had missed at first glance.

 The scorched marks on the fallen log Soren was sitting on. 

 The steam rising from the water before him.

 The faint glow emanating from his hands where they rested in his lap.

 “Soren?” Corvus asked tentatively, making sure to let his footfalls be audible as he approached so as not to startle his friend. “What are you doing out here?”

 Soren, back already to Corvus, turned away further. “You made it back quick.”

 He didn’t sound especially happy about it, and that… hurt in a way Corvus hadn’t been expecting. 

 “We got your message. Are you-”

 “I’m fine.” Soren interjected, turning away again as Corvus neared. “You should get back to camp. They probably need your help.”

 “They need your help too.” Corvus waited for him to turn and look at him, stopping a few steps away. “Soren, what’s going on?”

 He heard the other man take a deep breath, then he turned to face Corvus all in one quick motion, like he had to do it that way or he wouldn’t be able to make himself go through with it. Corvus’ eyes widened. Glowing lines crisscrossed Soren’s face, disappearing into his collar and reemerging across the backs of his hands. They shimmered in sunset tones, shifting and changing. The same color had swallowed the blue of his eyes, the whites of his eyes turning black. This close to him, Corvus could feel the heat radiating off Soren, see that the puffs of steam he’d seen earlier were from the proximity of his shoes to the stream.

 “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see me like this.” Soren said, voice wobbling. He glanced down at his hands, clenched tightly in his lap. “I know I look like some sort of… some sort of monster and I-”

 “Soren.” Corvus sat beside him, ignoring the radiating heat. “You’re not a monster.”

 “But I-”

 “Soren.” Corvus said again, reaching out and gently untangling his friend's hands. He winced as their skin touched, thin threads of smoke rising from the places where his clothes made contact with Soren. But he ignored it. “You don’t look like one either.”

 “I’m hurting you.” Soren gasped, pulling his hands back with a look of horror.

 Corvus snatched them back, not caring. “Soren, look at me. Whatever this is, it will pass. Magic isn’t forever-”

 “But what if it is?” Soren got up, trying to take a step back, but Corvus rose with him. “I… I already have Dark Magic in my system. And that’s forever. So what if this is too? What if this is me now? What if-”

 “Then we figure it out.” Corvus told him, taking another step towards him. “I’m not going to let you banish yourself to the woods.”

 “I’m hurting you.” Soren said again, his eyes drifting down to their clasped hands.

 “I don’t care.”

 “But-”

 Corvus took another step closer, and taking a deep breath, let Soren’s hands go just long enough to wrap his arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

 “I thought I lost you, Soren.” he said, giving voice to the fear that had plagued him the entire flight back. “That hurt more than this ever could.”

 Slowly, tentatively, Soren lifted his arms and hugged Corvus back.

 “Just, let me know if I should-”

 “Don’t stop.”

 “Okay.” 

 Slowly Corvus felt Soren begin to relax. “I’m glad you’re okay.” he told him.

 “Would you really call this okay?” Soren tried to laugh, but it died in his throat. 

 Corvus pulled back, stared into his eyes. They seemed a little… cooler. More purpley, less orange.

 He opened his mouth to tell him, but had a realization. Maybe it wasn’t the Dark Magic in his system keeping the spell active. Maybe it was Soren.

 He guided him back over to the fallen tree he’d been sitting on, and only a little smoke rose as they returned to their previous seats. Corvus didn’t let go of Soren’s hand. 

 “Maybe okay was the wrong word.” he admitted. “Because you don’t have to be okay. You know that, don’t you? That we’ll all still be there for you, even when you’re not okay?”

 “Of course I know that.” Soren stared at the ground, at his shoes, at the smoldering grass under his boots. As he watched, the fire grew, a small flower shriveling and blackening. And the more Corvus watched, the more Soren watched, the more the flames climbed until he was forced to drop Soren’s hand and collect water from the stream to splash on it. Steam mingled with the smoke as the pair of them watched. Corvus took his friend’s hand again.

 No, not friend. Soren was more than a friend.

 “You know, you’re the reason I stayed in Katolis.” he told him. “Not King Ezran.”

 Soren glanced up at him, eyes flickering for a moment. Corvus swallowed nervously, but forced himself to continue.

 “I could tell that you weren’t okay, but that you weren’t going to ask for help. Sometimes I wondered if you didn’t know how. If it was never an option before.” Corvus took a deep breath. “But it is now. We’re here to help. I’m here to help. Because-”

 He reached out, brushing the hair back from Soren’s face. His eyes were wide and purple. Corvus let his hand linger on the other man’s cheek. 

 “Because I love you, Soren.”

 And then before he could think any better of it, or wonder if this would actually work, he leaned forward and he kissed him. And the kiss burned. But Corvus didn’t care, because Soren didn’t pull away, and he didn’t flinch back and ask ‘what do you think you’re doing’ like Corvus had pictured him doing a thousand times.

 Instead he reached out and pulled Corvus closer, one hand resting on the small of his waist as the other traveled up to cup his chin and pull them together. And slowly the burning faded, and only the sweetness of finally doing this of finally admitting to himself that he wanted to remained.

 When Corvus opened his eyes, it was to find Soren’s blue ones shining back at him.

 “I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” he admitted. “Not exactly how I pictured it.”

 Corvus laughed, an oddly free and joyous sound even to his own ears. And he kissed him again, because he could. 

[anxiousanteaterr]

Character Info below the cut

1. Mnyah: A "Goddess", for lack of a better term. Mnyah is big, tall, and very chill. She rarely speaks, but would go anywhere and do (just about) anything with you if it meant being in your wonderful company. If you decide to stay indoors and have brunch or take a walk somewhere private and secluded, Mnyah can tell you stories from her past adventures, and you can tell her your own stories. However, seeing this woman go white water rafting in a ball gown is also one hell of a sight, and she WILL be good at paddling.

2. Meldria: A honorable mercenary who fights more for the good for the world than for the money. Strong, tough, and loves to have fun. Meldria tries to act chivalrous, but if she thinks you're hot, it just turns into fancy-worded flirting. She loves to eat, drink, and will accept near any challenge offered to her. Staying indoors isn't much her thing unless its with a big group of friends.

3. Novox: The most powerful Dark Mage in Adrinirda. He is a member of the Council of Magic, acting as the head for Dark Magic. He is smart, calculated, and cares deeply for animals, his heritage as a Dark Mage, and his loved ones (including you!). Novox prefers staying inside, either reading or practicing magic, but he also loves to dance. With a little coaxing, you could get him to go out somewhere.

4. Na'an: A thief with no name, Na'an named herself after her favorite bread. She's excitable, laughs loud, loves going on adventures big and small, and is down for pretty much anything as long as its fun. She does suffer from anxiety, so she might do a 180 here and there and get cold feet, but if you're really into into the activity you two are doing, she'll feed off your energy and keep going.

5. Current: Jordancia's resident technophile, Current loves two things: technology and music. During the day he tinkers in his shop, and at night he's the head DJ at the Arcade Cabinet Club in Jordancia's Arcade Disctrict. If you're a night owl, Current will gladly put a robot in his place at the turntable to go hit the town with you. Hit the dancefloor, hit up bars, hit up the 24/7 shops and museums, or just hit the road on his hover-scooter and watch the city lights blaze by. Whatever you choose to do, the two of you will have painted the town red by dawn.

6. Loelle: Ranked the #1 pastry baker in Jordancia and a skilled Nature Mage, Loelle mixes her two passions to breathe new life into her cooking. Literally. Stay in and make some yummy cupcakes as the cookies dance along the countertop, or spend some time out in the gardens, smelling the flowers, picking fruits, or toiling in the vegetable garden. The compost bin might try to follow you guys though. Loelle likes to take it slow, and prefers to spend time with few friends rather than large groups.

7. Valorn: A Summer Fairy cast out of the Eternal Forest, Valorn's magical capabilities encompass all of the elements, and she has the skills to prove it. She may be struggling with her depression and have self-doubts because of it, but a nice day spent window shopping, visiting the park, or just wandering the streets in the warm sunlight is good enough for her. If its raining or you just don't want to go out, Valorn has a nice sunroom just for those days, where you two can sit on plush beanbag chairs and just hang out until the sun sets and you have to play games by the light of the fairy lights lining the room.

8. The Reckon King: A Dark Mage with great and terrible potential, The Reckon King suffers from a lot of insecuries and depression. He won't tell you the details though, unless you two are very, very close, and even then you'd have to wrestle it out of him. He loves the night, and you two can burn moonlight taking walks by the river, stargazing, going to the movies, playing games at the boardwalk, or attending a concert. If you ask nicely, he'll even show you a few of his favorite dark magic parlor tricks.

[bmpmp3]

the really beautiful landscape/skyscape animation in makoto shinkai's works tends to be the big thing i see focused on and that is understandable and deserved like the weather and lighting effects are unREAL but i do think we should also appreciate how absolute insane the plotlines of his original movies get. at least two movies with in universe catastrophes with major ecological implications. the guns and explosions. theres that one movie i havent seen yet with the guy who turns into a chair (?)

[phagodyke]

I still can't believe they're charging THAT much for the shadow of the erdtree dlc... for like 2/3 of the base game price there fucking better be 100+ hours of content in there 🤨

[ambrosiagourmet]

I want to talk about why I think this is the one of the most important Falin panels:

So, Falin is really nice, right? It's one of the first things we really learn about her. She's kind even to the monsters of the dungeon - choosing to ward the party rather than fight spirits and cause them needless harm.

In the above early flashback in chapter 11, we see Marcille fawning over Falin's kindness, calling her an angel. Namari calls her soft-hearted. We see Falin choose not to fight even when a zombie attacks - instead she resolves the confrontation with a hug. After the flashback, the first thing Senshi says is that Falin "sounds like quite the person," which Marcille strongly affirms.

At this point in the story, all we have seen of Falin are these impressions; she is a healer, an angel, a caretaker with an infinite well of kindness towards everyone she meets - both friend and foe.

And honestly, that remains most of what we have to go by to understand her. The only times we get to see Falin on the page, alive and just herself, are in the opening and closing pages of the story and in the brief period of time after she is resurrected.

Nonetheless, we do have some more details to work with. For one, there is the scene that The Panel is from - a short memory in chapter 75, when Marcille flashes back to while she's dying. In that scene, Falin prepares to teleport them all out, and says that she's sorry "if there is a person at [their] destination." And that's when we get The Panel.

If you teleport someone or something into another person, the person teleported into is likely to be, at minimum, severely injured. They could die.

We can see a lovely little horrifying example of exactly why in one of the Daydream Hour doodles:

So, hmm. That's not... that's not SUPER nice. Certainly not displaying the same "kindness to all, friend and foe included" we saw represented earlier. On a basic level, this adds some nuance to Falin's kindness. We see it break a little, when pushed to the limit. We see her chose to protect the people she loves above all else.

Which makes sense! As Laios says when the Winged Lion accuses him of similarly being motivated more by his friends' safety than everyone else in the dungeon, "...most people, aside from virtuous do-gooders, would feel the same way."

So, we can take The Panel as simply showing a moment of weakness for Falin. A time when she was pushed to her limits, and that "most people" selfish side of her shone through.

However... I think there's a little more going on with Falin than just her being an angel 99% of the time, except just that once. I love The Panel because I think it helps us understand that Falin isn't just motivated by kindness - she also has a desire to avoid seeing people in pain.

Isn't that the same thing?

No, no it very much is not.

Let's look at a short comic from the Falin section of the Adventurer's Bible, because I think it illustrates this point perfectly. The group is complaining about how much Marcille's healing hurts, and comparing it to Falin's, which "doesn't hurt a bit." Marcille retorts with the following:

Now, the punchline of this comic is that, despite Marcille's sentimental assertion that she's "thinking of [them]" by letting her healing magic hurt, they all still prefer to be healed by Falin.

But hey, this wouldn't be the first time that Dungeon Meshi hides a very real character beat or insight in a gag, so let's think about this somewhat seriously.

If Marcille is right (and she knows a fair bit about magic, so we can assume that she has at least somewhat of a point), then what Falin is doing isn't kind. I suppose if someone specifically requested to not feel the pain, it could be kind, but that's not really what happened here. She is the one who felt badly about the others being in pain, and she is the one who decided, without telling them or giving them a choice in the matter, to take away that pain.

Both Marcille and Falin are healing the party, but Marcille is doing it in a way that accomplishes the task in the most straight forward way, without any additional interference. Falin is going out of her way to perform the healing in a way she is more comfortable with. A way that avoids pain.

Going back the The Panel, I don't think its a coincidence that the only time we see Falin (well, non-chimera Falin) willing to do something that could hurt someone is when any potential pain will be far away from her. If she got someone hurt or killed by teleporting the party to the surface? Not only would it be far out of her sight, but she'd be dead before she had to deal with any consequences of that action.

Falin is not a confrontational person. She doesn't push when Marcille won't tell her the truth about the resurrection, and she comforts Laios about her own death - both of those things happening in the only full chapter she is alive and conscious in the whole story.

We also know that she considered accepting Shuro's proposal, despite not having any special feelings towards him, and that Falin never explained to Marcille that she wanted them to share a meal together. When she brought Marcille various foods at the academy, she just accepted Marcille's confused rejection and gave up.

And lastly, we know that she is still in contact with her parents, despite the neglect and abuse she suffered at their hands. Although the way someone chooses to handle contact with abusive or bad family is a complicated topic, which I don't want to overly simplify, I do I think this fact gets at the heart of how she handles conflict.

So many people that Falin loves have hurt her. There are understandable hurts, like Laios leaving the village, or Marcille not understanding the food. And there are bigger, far less justifiable hurts - like her parents neglecting her throughout her childhood, and sending her away to be alone at the magic academy.

It doesn't seem like Falin has ever confronted any of it directly.

And the unhealthy aspects of this kind of avoidance of pain and confrontation is one of the things that the story of Dungeon Meshi is all about. We see Laios grapple with it before he goes to kill Falin, and we see Marcille acknowledge it at the end of the story, when she tells Laios that she has come to terms with Falin's death:

Eating is a part of life. Consuming other living things is a part of life. It isn't really possible to avoid that pain - you can only hide from the truth of it. You have to be selfish everyday. You have to eat - to choose to live. To choose to take up space.

And this is something Falin embraces, too. She comes back to life, after all.

We see her choose to come back to life.

And how does she make that choice? She eats. She consumes, and then she is asked a question by the manifestation of hunger itself:

Do you want to eat more?

There is a double meaning in the Winged Lion's final words on the next page.

When I first read this, I took it as him saying: life is cruel. You will suffer. You will feel more pain.

But perhaps, especially for Falin, this also means: you are choosing a path where you must cause pain. Where you must consume. Where you must take, and must be selfish. Because eating is the special privilege of the living, and it is their burden, too. In order to stay alive, she will need to keep eating.

And she chooses that. Chooses to be selfish. It's why her resurrection scene is so important, and it's why The Panel is so important. Because Falin coming back isn't the ultimate reward for all of the party's hard work.

It's her choice. Just like it was her choice that started everything in the first place. But this time, she doesn't choose to accept causing pain for the sake of Marcille and Laios. She does it for her own sake.

[chelseeebe]

bump n’ grind

a lil continuation to gimme a hand wherein our lovely reader helps eddie out after an embarrassing mistake.

18+ mdni. again, mostly just smut. maybe some angst towards the end i guessss. eddie munson x female reader.

eddie’s on cloud nine.

his head floating well above the pretty pink room he was currently in.

not entirely sure how he ended up here but also not at all angry about it. a night of rum and beer had lead him to this.

sarah.. savanna.. something, sits atop of his lap, bouncing off of his thighs like a jacked up rabbit.

he’s clawing at her back, trying and failing, to keep a steady grip on her wild body. appreciating the soft squeaks that left her mouth with every bounce.

and before he can really think about it enough to stop his mouth, he says it. wanting to dig his own grave the second his lips spread.

a long, drawn out iteration of your name.

she stops, immediately. breathless as she grips his shoulders, “what’d you say?”

his cock aches and his cheeks burn, any hope that she’d just ignore it and continue had flown out of the window, “what?” acting clueless, “i didn’t.. didn’t say anything.”

eddie knows full well what had slipped out of his loose lips, muscle memory from the embarrassing amount of times he had whined your name while imagining that it was your hand wrapped around his cock instead.

“you said somebody else’s name,” she frowns, sounding far too close to a possessive girlfriend rather than the one night stand that she actually was.

“did i? i don’t really remember.. does it matter?” with full sincerity, wondering if she was going to stay on his dick or climb off and throw him out.

“if i’m having sex with someone, i at least expect them to know my name,” she scowls, clambering from his lap to the empty space next to him.

“shit,” he mumbles, head in his hands, “fuck. i’m sorry,” sobering up instantly, embarrassed by his blunder.

she sighs, taking pity on his pathetic self, “is she your ex or something?” re-dressing herself with an old t-shirt, rightfully putting an end to their encounter.

“no..” eddie frowns, shaking his head, “she’s my.. my friend.”

best friend actually. making it all the more confusing and complicated. he’d spare her of all the gory details, for her sake.

“oh,” the girl gawps, stifling her laugh. “you should tell her,” leaning over to grab her phone, no doubt to tell all of her friends about eddie’s embarrassing freudian slip.

he’d deserve it.

-

eddie perches on the end of your bed, not daring to move any closer for fear of losing it and touching you like he dreamed of doing.

it had been four months, two weeks and five days since you’d jerked him off in that tiny bathroom.

not that he was counting.

and still nothing more had happened between you. a few instances where eddie had thought you were close but nothing of any real consequence.

nevertheless, a day hadn’t passed since where he hadn’t thought about it at least once.

he’s memorised every single frame of that video, all the times you pant and twist your hand. the exact second his phone falls onto the counter and the video changes to an image of the back of his head.

every. last. detail.

you jab your foot into his back, peering over your phone screen to frown at him, “what’s wrong with you?”

eddie sighs, letting his shoulders slump, still staring at the torn ac/dc poster he had ripped off the wall for you. it reminds him too much of times where things weren’t so complicated.

“i hooked up with someone the other day,” he states monotonously, uncaring anymore about telling you what had really happened.

“okay?” you jab him again, “why are you sad about that?” confusion echoing.

“i’m not sad.”

you sit up, the mattress shifting behind him, “then what the fuck’s your problem?” leaning forward to rest your chin on his shoulder, in that similar position you were in all those months ago.

sometimes he wishes you’d never touched him. that he had just settled with chrissy and you had never been an option. not that you really were now, still unobtainable, taunting and teasing him.

“i said your name,” he exhales in one big breath, “i said your name while i was having sex with her.”

his shoulders felt lighter now, despite you still resting on them. something about the relief of finally letting you know how he felt. embracing his stupidity.

“really?” your mouth falls open, “holy shit, that’s funny,” he can feel your hands creep up his back, sending shivers over his skin.

eddie shakes his head, at a loss for words. he could see how you’d find it funny, but he couldn’t see the humour in it himself. in fact, it was a marker for the absolute desperation he felt towards your new complex relationship. not only had you taken over all of his waking thoughts, but you’d somehow subliminally crept into his intoxicated mind thoo.

“what were you thinking about? when you said it,” you pry, head twisting around to look at him.

“you.”

“me?” you rasp, right into his ear. “what about me?” feeling your breath against his cheek, transporting him straight back to wayne’s cramped bathroom.

his eyes fall shut, like he’s in some humiliation ritual, getting off to the way you teased him so.

“that video.. that stupid video,” he whispers, tuned in to every twitch of your fingers on his back, your soft breaths in his ear.

“oh,” he can hear the smirk in your voice, unwilling to open his eyes to see it again, “is that it? just the video?”

he doesn’t understand why you’re asking so many questions. obviously enjoying the way he squirmed under your touch, antsy and reluctant to say anything.

“i was.. picturing you were her,” he squeezes out, blood rushing to not only his cheeks, but his cock too.

“aw,” you coo, hand sliding higher, “tell me how it felt,” voice thick with desire, fingers circling around his shaking shoulders.

“good..” his eyes squeeze together, feeling his jeans shift uncomfortably, “not as good as you did,” almost begging, pleading for it.

you hum, your other hand finding the top of his thigh, dangerously close to the tent in his jeans.

if you kept this up, he’d cum all over his fucking pants.

you squeeze the skin, a low grumble from yours lips, “what position were you in?”

oh god.

“w-why?” eddie chokes, seeing stars behind his eyelids.

“i just wanna know, eds.. so i can picture the scene.”

his head tilts back, allowing you the opportunity to creep into the crook of his neck, traces of your lips just barely touching the sensitive skin.

“please tell me,” you mumble, vibrating against his trachea, making his toes curl, grounding himself with the rough carpet.

“she was on top,” he spits, balling his fist around your blanket.

it didn’t feel real between his fingers, poorly substituting your body for the cotton.

“oh,” you shift, the bed frame creaking as you clamber into his lap, resting atop of his thighs. “like this?”

he doesn’t open his eyes. can’t, not without cumming his pants right there. but he can feel you, perched just below his crotch,

“what’d she do now? hmm?” dragging your nails down his chest, your fingers prod at his skin, forcing him to flop back against the mattress.

the space allows you to shuffle upwards, your cunt brushing against his aching cock, leaving him no choice but to turn into pure mush beneath you.

“fuck,” he breathes, daring a glance in hopes to keep the image ingrained in his mind forever.

your hips begin to grind against his crotch, groaning softly with your palms flat to his chest.

“you like that?” you purr, rocking back and forth on top for he rough denim of his jeans.

“i need you.. fuck, please,” he keens, fingertips so firmly pressed into your waist that they’d leave indentations for days.

you don’t respond, sighing softly as the friction between you grows stronger, cruel and twisted in the way you tease him.

he doesn’t understand what all of these almost-encounters mean. it’s like you want him but not fully. holding yourself back for the right moment or perhaps just trying to keep him going until somebody else came along.

his hands slide around to your ass, moving with every jerk and cant of your hips. gruff, frustrated sighs leave his mouth, mixing somewhere in the air with your whiny moans. need and urgency ricocheting around the walls of your room, yet neither one of you prepared to take it all the way.

“jesus eds, are you gonna cum?” you breathe, as much as this was for his benefit, you were getting off as well.

that alone makes this other worldly. even if he was doing absolutely none of the work, you were writhing and gasping just as he was.

it’s almost incomprehensible how much you using him to get off was frying his brain.

eddie was about to combust, the closeness of it all, so near and yet still so far apart. two layers of clothes felt like a million miles. finally brave enough to open his eyes, hoping to keep this image seared into his brain forever.

“yeah.. yeah i’m gonna cum,” he whines, jerking his hips up to meet yours, rocking against each other in perfect rhythm, “please.. oh fuck- fuckfuckfuck,” his cock positioned perfectly between your folds, covering your pajama shorts with your slick.

“good boy,” you breathe, fingers twisted into his shirt, tugging at the fabric, not letting up on your torturous grinding.

your tone is somewhere between mocking and sincere, but he doesn’t care. doesn’t have the brain capacity to if he’s honest.

his cock twitches against his boxers, hips shuddering into the air as an uncomfortable warmth overtakes his crotch.

“oh god.. shit,” the sudden realisation of the mess in his pants, how grotesquely down bad he was for you, hits all at once.

your lips curve, shuffling down to the top of his thighs. you don’t exchange words, just a sly glance that erupts into giggles. leaning down to peck his lips as your hands let go of their hold on his chest.

eddie’s hands don’t move, gripping onto your hips, hoping you’ll stay there for the rest of eternity. not only had he cum in his pants, he had done so at a disturbingly fast rate. a few minutes of what was essentially dry humping had left him sticky and full of shame.

“are you ever gonna let me fuck you?” he asks, practically begging for your mercy, needing to know for his own sake.

he likes to think that if you said no, he’d be able to walk away with his dignity, to never let this embarrassing display for pathetic yearning happen again.

yet deep down, he also knows that that’ll never happen. you could string him along forever and ever and he’d never do a thing about it other than cherish the moments you let him touch you.

your laugh topples over, slinging your leg over his waist to kneel beside his lifeless body, “one day,” kneeing him softly in the side, “go get changed, i’m hungry,” climbing off of the mattress, disappearing from his eyesight.

his head flops back onto the bed, sweaty and exhausted, ignoring the feel of his boxers clinging to his skin and the inevitable wet patch seeping through to his jeans.

an insatiable churning in his stomach for more, for you.

but eddie is eddie, so instead of doing any of the things that he really wanted to do, he rolls off of your bed with a sigh, shimmying out of his jeans just as you’d asked him to.

[whateveriwant]

I know you already did the 141 boys when their wife gives birth (which was fantastic btw) but maybe if they missed the birth because of a mission or whatever else your brilliant mind can think of!

Don't give me compliments because then I'll follow you home like a cat and you'll never get rid of me 😖

Price

(This goes for all the men, really) but he's absolutely gutted to not be with you as you're giving birth

Honestly, if he had the choice, he would've rather lobbed off his own arm than miss such a momentous occasion in both your lives

It’s nothing less than the literal fate of the world that's keeping him from you, and he makes sure to reiterate that over and over again

The only thing that gives Price a bit of peace of mind when leaving you at a time like this is knowing you have a strong support system to help you through it

And boy oh boy does he put those friends and family members to use by having them constantly text him with every update imaginable

What time your water breaks, how far apart your contractions are, how much you've dilated, so on and so on. He wants to know it all

While he has to remain focused during the bulk of the mission, when he's able to, he's whipping out his phone to scroll through the literal hundreds of messages that await him

The updates are so plentiful and detailed that if he tries hard enough, he can almost pretend like he was right there beside you all along

And once he gets to the pictures of you holding your little one for the first time, well… he's not afraid to admit that he sheds a manly tear or two at the sight

Soap

He kicked up quite the storm at work when he realized he was going to be missing the birth of his child

He did everything in his power to try to get out of the mission – to try to get back to you – but, ultimately, he had no other choice than to go

But he's not just going to go gently into the night. No, he has a few tricks up his sleeve to make it as if he's still there with you in some capacity

Like Price, Soap takes comfort in leaving you with a huge support system to help while he's away

And also similarly, he's recruiting your loved ones (more so their phones) into letting him video chat with you whenever he gets the opportunity

(Does that mean he snuck his unauthorized smartphone into the middle of a battlefield? …. Yes. Yes, he did. .……....… Don't tell Price)

You'll be in the midst of a call with him and a bullet will fly right by his head and embed itself in the wall behind him

Of course, this has you incredibly concerned, worrying over how you're distracting him when he should be focused on his mission

But he assures you there's no need to fret, dear. He's perfectly safe and everything’s completely fine

(Oh, and just disregard that sound in the background, hun. No, it wasn't a bomb. Heavens, no! It was a… a… piano falling out a window)

Gaz

Even when he's away on mission during normal circumstances, he's calling home all the time to check in with you

But given your current state, now he's checking in twice as much as he usually does

Expect a minimum of three calls a day just to ensure things are still all hunky dory on your end

It's during one of these calls that your water breaks, and as you fly into a state of panic, forgetting everything you're supposed to do, Gaz has to calmly walk you through the steps of what you'd planned

He's able to talk you down and make sure you get yourself to the hospital in one piece, but then after that call, weirdly, you don't hear from him again

It's not until several hours later when you've already delivered your child that you're awoken by the feeling of someone beside your bed

You look to see who it is and it's none other than Gaz himself – still dressed in his full gear, covered in all sorts of dirt and grime, a hushed apology pouring from his mouth

He's so sorry he couldn't get there quick enough, beautiful. He left as soon as he could once he'd pulled a few strings with Price

But you don't even care about the excuse because you're quickly enveloping him in a hug. With tears in your eyes, you assure him it's alright. He's here now, and that's all that matters to you

Ghost

When he was informed he was being shipped off to a remote location less than a month before your due date, he was livid

No phone, no radio, no communication of any kind with the outside world and he was supposed to be okay with that? He very much wasn't

The higher-ups had to really hammer home the whole “safety of the world” thing to convince Ghost to go, and even when he did, he did so grudgingly

He finds that as he sits in this shoddy shack halfway across the planet from you, all he can do is keep a mental tally of everything he’s missing

Going with you to your final check ups, helping you pack your hospital bag, holding your hand as you begin to push, etc. etc. etc.

But what about things he might not know about? What if something's gone wrong while he's been away?

He can't let himself think on it too much because he'll end up putting his fist through the drywall, and he needs at least one good hand to hold his child with when he meets them for the first time

Seven weeks, four days, and nine hours after he shipped out, Ghost is on a plane back home

He doesn't stop to talk to anyone when he touches down at base (not even to report to his superiors). He just gets into his car and books it, not letting off the gas until he's parked outside your home again

And when he finally reaches the front door, an unexpected tremor passing through him as he grabs for the handle, he closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath, and walks inside, beginning the next chapter of his life

[callme-holly]

could you maybe please do some scenarios for (y/n) comforting sodapop, Dallas, ponyboy, and Johnny if you want please. also could you please make the reader fem please and thank you

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠 [𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧, 𝐒𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐩 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬, 𝐏𝐨𝐧𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐝𝐞.]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - im a little behind on requets but im getting there! i've got my final exam of this week tomorrow and then i'll be a lot speedier, i promise. asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 1.6k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - mentions of fighting, getting jumped and small injury detail

Dallas Winston -  The room is quiet as you card your fingers through Dallas’ hair, the greaser’s head resting against your thigh. His eyes are closed, and there's a nasty bruise blossoming on his cheekbone, accompanied by a few bloodied scrapes that he refuses to let you clean. There’s dried blood crusted beneath his nose, which you wipe away gently with the pad of your thumb, humming softly under your breath as he breathes out a low, soft groan.  “You alright?” Your tone is barely above a whisper as you tug at the ends of his mussy locks, pushing them back from his face. He blinks once or twice, his eyelashes fanning against his cheeks, and his expression is a little less pained than it was just minutes ago.  “Yeah,” he murmurs after a moment, “fine.” He shifts a little bit so that his head is now more firmly planted upon your lap, and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer in a half embrace. You reach down between the two of you and retrieve the ice pack that is sitting forgotten beside you, pressing it against his swollen cheek once more.  He makes a disgruntled noise but doesn't open his eyes again.  “Sorry 'bout this.” His voice is rough, strained from the exertion: “Y' shouldn't have to take care of me all the damn time.” The words fall heavy between the two of you as he speaks, and you smile softly, shaking your head. “It ain't too much trouble, really.” You rub small circles against his bicep, pressing a light kiss to his forehead. “And besides...” your voice drops to an almost conspiratorial murmur, “I like taking care of you. It makes me feel better when I know you're not lying dead in a ditch somewhere.”  He gives you a lopsided grin at that, eyes still closed. “You've got so much faith in me, doll.”  Your smile widens, feeling something twist inside of you. You take his hand, squeezing it gently before pressing a quick kiss to his busted-up knuckles. “Whatever.” 

Sodapop Curtis -  A small sigh leaves your lips as Soda buries his face in your chest, arms wrapped tightly around your middle, tears cascading down his cheeks as he struggles for air.  It pains you to see him like this, his usual bright smile replaced with a look of pure anguish, silent sobs racking his body. You rub slow circles against his back, mumbling soft words of reassurance into his ear as he clings to your shirt. “I don’t understand,” he gasps, his voice thick with emotion. “Why can't they just get along? They never used to be like this. A shudder runs through him, and you tighten your hold on him, rocking him a bit back and forth as he cries. “Shh, Soda, hey, you need to breathe,” you murmur soothingly, combing your fingers through his hair. “You’re gonna make yourself sick.” You press a soft kiss to the top of his head, hushing him quietly as his cries gradually abate.  “I just want them to get along.” Soda whispers brokenly, burying his face against your collarbones. “I'm tired of being made to pick sides. I don't wanna be in the middle all the time.” You hum sympathetically, shifting slightly so that you can wrap both arms around him and pull him as close as physically possible. Soda melts into your touch, relaxing fully against you. You can tell he's exhausted, both emotionally and physically.  "I hate it.” He sounds miserable. “All they do is yell at each other. Darry is way too hard on Pony, and Pony's trying his hardest, but he can only take so much–" Soda stops abruptly, his breath hitched in his throat as another sob tears from him, wracking his body. His grip tightens around your middle and your heart clenches painfully at the sight.  “I just want things to go back to normal.” You give a slow nod, closing your eyes. “I know, I know. It'll be okay.” You press another gentle kiss to his temple and run your hands slowly up and down his spine, trying to offer as much comfort as you can. He relaxes under your touch, melting further into you as he tries to take deep, steady breaths, struggling to control himself.  You tilt his chin up so that he's looking at you once more, running your thumb over his cheek. “I love you, you know” “Mm,” he hums, blinking rapidly to rid his vision of the last remnants of tears. His eyes meet yours, and even though his gaze is glassy and filled with sadness and pain, his expression is soft and tender. “Love you too.”

Ponyboy Curtis -  You're sitting in the lot, your jacket pulled tightly around you, when you hear the sound of approaching footsteps. You stiffen and turn sharply, expecting to see a group of drunken socs or the odd greaser looking for trouble, only to come face to face with none other than Ponyboy Curtis. He has tears streaming down his cheeks, his hair mused as he all but throws himself at you, shoulders shaking and chest heaving. You don’t speak a word as you pull him into your arms, rubbing your hands over his shoulders in an attempt to calm him. His head comes to rest on your shoulder, one fist clutching the front of your sweater as tight as possible, the other hanging uselessly by his side. For several moments, he sits in silence, letting you hold him while he finally manages to collect himself. Then he pulls back, wiping furiously at his face. “Sorry…” You don’t miss the way he averts his gaze from you as he speaks, refusing to make eye contact. “Didn't mean to bother you; I just—”  You shake your head, interrupting him. “There’s no reason for you to apologise.” You pause, considering for a long moment before continuing. “What's up?”  He exhales shakily, then hesitantly meets your gaze again. “I—Darry yelled at me again. He got real mad this time.” His voice cracks, and you pull him close once more. You know Darry’s been harder on him as of late, expecting too much of a boy Pony’s age. You know he means well, but you also know the toll it’s been taking on the younger Curtis brother and how difficult these past few weeks have been for him.  “Sometimes I don't think Darry likes me very much.” You can hear the vulnerability in his tone, unable to miss how broken he appears. He's not crying anymore; if anything, he looks a little embarrassed and ashamed. You frown, brushing his damp bangs from his forehead. “Don't be ridiculous.” Your tone is firm, determined to keep him from ever getting caught up in that dark spiral. “He cares about you a whole lot.” “He's got a funny way of showin' it.” Pony grumbles softly, and you can't help but laugh at his bluntness, wrapping your arms tighter around him. “I wish he'd be nicer. I really don't like all the fighting we do.” “I know. But it'll get easier.” You look down at him. “If you want, I can go talk some sense into him.” That earns you a smile as Ponyboy nods, squeezing you a little tighter. “Good luck. I doubt he’ll listen.” You press a quick kiss to his forehead, smiling softly. “I’ll try my best.”

Johnny Cade -  Arms circle around your waist, gripping onto you tightly as you comb your fingers through his tangled, and still heavily greased, hair. Johnny’s head rests in your lap, eyes squeezed shut as he tries desperately to fall into some sort of relaxed state, but he just can't seem to find the will within himself to do so. You watch him silently, running a finger absently along his jawline, taking in the bruises and cuts littering his face and arms. He looks worn thin and broken; his cheeks are tear-stained and hollowed by exhaustion. His breathing remains unsteady and uneven, his skin pale, and you can't help but reach out and brush the pad of your thumb across the faint lines beneath his eyes, your brow furrowing deeply. He flinches slightly but doesn’t open his eyes, his breath hitching. “Sorry,” You whisper, going back to smoothing your hand over his hair. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”  Johnny lets out a soft sigh, leaning his forehead against your stomach. “S' okay…” He shifts a little closer to you, reaching for your hand and lacing your fingers together. “...just glad yer here.” You bite your lower lip, tracing patterns into the back of his hand with your thumb, pressing soft kisses against his forehead as you let him snuggle closer, relishing in the simple closeness of it all. It eases your nerves knowing he's safe with you and calms the storm raging inside of you. Your mind wanders back to earlier, the images of him lying, half-dead, in that field flashing unbidden through your mind.   It takes a lot to make Johnny Cade cry, but the second you had knelt down beside him and pulled him into your arms while the gang huddled about you, his composure had completely crumbled. Sobs had wracked his body, shaking his entire frame, and you could do nothing but hold him until he had finally calmed down. And now, here he was, curled up into your embrace, clinging to you like a lifeline. Every little noise made him jump, every sudden movement made his muscles tense, and your heart ached for him. You wanted so badly to make everything better, but there was nothing you could do. All you could do was stay there, holding him as he cried, wishing that there was something you could do besides sit by and whisper softly to him. But, you know, right now, just you being there is enough for him.

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ something like sympathy

summary: winter break with a sympathetic vil schoenheit type of post: fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, good old fluff, mentions of food and eating + vil is kiiind of implied to have an ed word count: 4k

Different never meant "bad" to Vil Schoenheit.

...And besides that, he simply had no reason to care about the magicless student. You weren't like the others at Night Raven College- you didn't run in the halls or make obscene gestures behind the professor's backs, you didn't shout, you didn't interrupt, you didn't fight or scream or slouch.

You were truly nothing special at all, which is special itself at a place like that.

Vil supposes that's why he liked you.

And you were always alone. At the beginning of the semester, he'd seen you straggling along behind the other first years, looking like a lost puppy. Never quite sure of what to say or not say, what to do with your hands, but always sure that you didn't quite belong.

He recognized that look on a person.

Then, you were alone again. Vil reasoned with himself. It wouldn't have been unusual for a student of Night Raven to prefer their own company. But again, you weren't a Night Raven student. You were a stranger, and stranger you stayed.

For all the things he'd heard about you, your presence was not impressive. You were always meek. Quiet. You did not join a club, he heard. You didn't talk to your classmates. They didn't talk to you.

Vil had once quietly, very quietly, asked Epel about you. And those dreadful dark circles, he said. But Epel didn't know much, just that the other first years thought you were "weird" and thus you spent more of your time with the staff than the students.

Weird. That word left a poor taste in Vil's mouth.

Different, yes. Quiet, reserved, yes, yes. But weird?

"Why the staff?" he had asked, trying to sound nonchalant about the whole thing.

Epel shrugged and picked at his collar. He'd learned not to complain in front of Vil by that point. "Mostly Crowley. They do his bidding, or something,"

He shouldn't have let that bother him, but he did, anyway.

Vil watched you a little closer from then on. How you stuttered when you spoke. How you sat away from the others. How you always looked so tired and unwell and...

Stop making me feel sorry for you, he thought, as if you could hear him. Stop it.

He asked some of the other housewardens. All of them had stories, but none of them seem worried. Again, that word. Weird.

Vil corrected them each time. Different. Not weird. Different. They ignored him.

You became a mystery to him. You sat, you waited, you stood again. You ate, sometimes, but never quite enough. You looked at your paper but didn't write. It was as if you were dead to this world and reborn into your own, existing solely within yourself in the way that he could only see through the light in your eyes.

He wanted to get closer, he wanted to see that light and know what you were thinking, but he didn't know how. And he didn't want to involve Rook in this. That would only scare you away.

No. Vil Schoenheit, the most beautiful man in the world, actor, model, housewarden of Pomefiore, would have to be gentle with you.

.

"And Epel?"

He asks, serving him another helping of green beans. Epel's nose wrinkles at the smell of whatever fancy spices they'd been baked in.

"...Back to my... grandmother's," the boy says.

"Don't scowl," Vil snaps. "This is our last dinner as a dorm before break. You could at least pretend to have manners."

Epel bites back a swear, and Rook gives him an encouraging smile and a pat on the back. Vil rolls his eyes.

"And you, Rook?"

"Ah! My family is vacationing at one of our villas," he says, vague as ever. Vil doesn't bother asking for details.

"Good," he says, cutting himself another piece of fish. He doesn't eat it, though. "And the Prefect?"

The question is directed at Epel. He blinks.

"I reckon... I mean, I assume they'll be staying here,"

"Alone?"

He gives the housewarden a suspicious look. Rook's grin sharpens.

"...I guess so. No students, no staff,"

"That can hardly be safe," Vil says, finally eating. He chews, swallows, and dabs around his mouth with his napkin before speaking again. Everyone waits for him.

"How will they feed themselves? And what of the cold? Crowley does realize that they are a person, and not a cardboard cutout, yes?"

Epel shrugs. He doesn't know more than that. Rook does, but he chooses not to say anything.

"It's not like they got a lot of options," the first year says, pretending to eat his green beans while discreetly discarding of them under the table.

Vil scowls, this time. "And no one has offered to take them?"

Epel blinks. "...They don't have any friends, really,"

He shakes his head. Why is he not surprised? Would it kill the students at this school to have one shred of human decency?

"Shall I extend them an invitation on your behalf, Housewarden?" Rook says, a coy smile playing at his lips.

He's teasing, in his own infuriating way, but Vil isn't witless. Even he can be surprising.

"Yes, thank you," he says, and then returns to his meal without another word. The shocked silence and envious looks of the other students are not lost on Vil, but, this time, he doesn't scold them for staring.

.

"Leave your shoes by the door. You'll track mud," Vil says, walking inside.

You do as he says without missing a beat. It's almost adorable, how nervous you are. And it's terrifying at the same time. You act as if you haven't been shown any kindness in months.

He supposes you probably haven't.

"It's warm in here," is the first thing you say.

Not a comment about the imported marble, or the display shelf full of Vil's father's accolades, or the stained glass windows.

No. "It's warm in here", you say.

Something like sympathy twists in Vil's stomach.

"...Yes. And it's quite expensive to heat a house of this size, so, please, mind the door,"

You realize that you're standing in the doorway and promptly move inside, letting the large front door close behind you.

Your cat... thing makes a comment about how shiny everything is. Vil sighs.

"And please don't break anything. Most of the art is original and can't be replaced..." he says. "We have three meals a day, and if you're hungry between then, there's fresh fruit in the kitchen."

The little dire beast looks up at you with big, sparkly eyes, and you nod, letting him scamper in the direction of the kitchen, which he must have... smelled?

Vil watches him skid across the marble floors and crash into the wall, and he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"...Sorry about Grim," you say. You sound genuinely apologetic, and it makes Vil nauseous. How did anyone like you even end up at Night Raven?

"Never mind that. Are you hungry?"

You stare at him as if you hadn't heard what he said. You seem reluctant to answer.

Vil puts a hand on his hip. "We're never going to leave the foyer if you keep staring like that. Come on,"

He leads you to the kitchen, ignoring the sight of Grim digging through his pantry like a starved man.

"We don't have dinner until six, and it's past lunch, so I'll make you something light," he says, looking through the fridge. You stand behind him like you have nothing better to do.

"You can have a seat wherever you'd like. I won't charge you for it," he smiles.

You stare back. Sevens, now he's making jokes with you. What is WRONG with him?

He does get you to sit somewhere, though, which he counts as a win. Your little creature eventually joins you, sitting in your lap and probably covering you in cat hair. Vil tries not to think about it.

You wait until he's begun taking out plates and pans to speak. "You're cooking?"

"Surprised?" He smirks.

There's always something rather satisfying about subverting expectations. Of course, you didn't know him yet, and you probably assumed that he was just another spoiled-

"No, I mean, you're cooking for me?"

Vil almost drops the pan. Damn it. Must everything you say be so insufferably pitiful? With the kicked puppy look, too? Are you doing this on purpose?

He quickly turns his back to you, facing the stovetop.

"...I am. Is that alright?"

He hears some shuffling that he takes as a nod.

"Better than alright!" Grim says. He can hear you chuckling at that. The sound is warmer than the open flame.

"...Well... good," Vil says, trying to sound stern again. "I don't cut corners when it comes to healthy eating, and while you're under my roof, I expect the same. So... it'll be three home-cooked meals a day. Understood?"

Grim whispers to you, asking about dessert, and you shush him. Vil rolls his eyes.

"...And dessert. We're in agreement, then?"

You nod again, and he hums. Good. Now he won't feel ill every time you look at him.

He finishes your "snack" (which is more of a light lunch), and serves both of you. Grim immediately digs in, practically tearing apart the plate, but you don't even touch yours.

Vil doesn't care for that look. It's all... sad. "Is something wrong?"

And you hesitate to answer. For a moment, he worries he made something you can't eat. Finally:

"Aren't you going to have something?"

What are you trying to do, kill him? Vil huffs.

"I didn't think of it,"

Your hands remain on your lap. Grim is starting to pick veggies off your plate already, and Vil has to fight the urge to swat him away from your food.

He sighs. "Will you eat if I have something?"

You hesitate to answer again, and then you nod. Barely. Like you're nervous just being in the same room as him. Damn you.

Vil sits next to you and takes a modest portion from your plate. He hates himself for doing it, but he doesn't ask why, either. He just assumes you feel awkward eating in front of him.

Or maybe you think he's poisoned you. It wouldn't be unbelievable, considering what you've already been through at school.

Either way, you do finally eat, even though the food is cold now. You even give Grim something else from your plate when he begs.

Vil watches you. The way you eat, the way you smile at that terrible greedy cat of yours, the way you politely stack your plates when you finish. You should be under someone's Christmas tree, not sitting in his kitchen.

"...Can I ask you something?"

He'd been cleaning off your plates in the sink when you spoke again. Vil hates those sorts of questions- haunting memories of interviews and tabloid reporters flash across his mind.

"You may," he says, subtly correcting you.

"Where's the guy in all your pictures?"

Vil quiets. His pictures? His Magicam pictures? Why would you-

When he turns over his shoulder, you're looking at the wall. Oh. Of course.

"My... father is filming a movie. He won't be home until the end of break. You won't have to meet him... but he would like you,"

"So you're here all by yourself?"

Vil hates that question. He hates the way you say it. Why would you care? Why would you worry about him? You barely know him.

"...Well, there are the staff. The housekeepers. But I don't need them here every day, so I usually let them have paid time-off when my father isn't around,"

That sounds silly when he says it aloud, he thinks.

"You do...?" you ask. "...That's sweet."

Vil doesn't answer that. He doesn't have an answer for that.

.

He doesn't know how to approach you.

It's funny. Vil can handle paparazzi, prying interviewers, tabloid gossipers, demanding directors, egotistical designers, even Neige Leblanche... but he can't bring himself to knock on your door.

Five times, five times since you've arrived at his home, he's gone to you, up the stairs or down the hall, stood in front of your room, and did nothing.

Sometimes he can hear you inside, others not. Once, he came as soon as he got up, not even bothering to fix his hair, and threw open your door... and you were asleep.

He isn't even sure what he wants to say. Something. Anything.

"Do you want to watch something with me?"

Vil jolts. He's not easy to startle, but he'd been so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice you standing behind him. You're quiet.

"...Yes... I suppose I have the time," he says, as if he's done anything this week but imagine this exact moment. "Do you have something in mind?"

You bring him to the viewing room, to the cabinet of all of his and his father's movies. Apparently, you'd been exploring the house while Vil sulked in his bedroom.

"This one?" he asks, not bothering to hide the sour expression on his face as you held up your pick.

"Is it bad?"

"No," he says. Nothing he makes is bad. "It's just... well, I..." It's a Neige movie, and Vil is not in it for more than a scene. "...Never mind. We can watch it."

He sits beside you and the furball, who seems more entertained with rubbing himself all over the couch to get his scent on it (ugh), and the film's opening credits roll.

How he's going to sit through two hours of Neige Leblanche with you is beyond him.

A small, quiet, but biting thought that you might like Neige more than him makes Vil uncomfortable in his seat. He doesn't know why he would care about such a thing, but he does.

Vil watches you more than he watches the film. You don't react much, he notes. The jokes don't land with you, the songs don't make you smile, not even the scary scenes really get more than a yawn out of you. He so desperately wants to ask-

"Who is this, again?"

He blinks as you finally speak, as if he'd forgotten you could do that.

"...The actor? That's Neige. Neige Leblanche," Vil has to remind himself that you're not from this world, and you don't know these things.

You make a face. "...I don't really like him,"

And there it is. If Vil were not already sitting down, his legs would've given out. He stares at you as if you were speaking another language to him.

"...Hm... You don't, do you?" he asks, trying to withhold the excitement in his voice. My, my, how he'd love a look into your mind...

"He's a little too much," you say. "Just... too much."

Vil nods. "I understand completely,"

A pause. He swallows thickly. "Would you like to watch something else?"

"Um... yeah. Maybe you should pick,"

Maybe he should pick. He smiles, takes out the disc, and comes back with a different one.

"This, you should like," he says, putting it in. "...And no Neige."

You nod. "No Neige,"

.

Winter break goes on, and the truth becomes impossible to ignore.

Vil won't think the words. He refuses to let them come together in his mind, because once he's thought them, they'll feel real.

Fortunately for him, he has other things to occupy his thoughts.

He cradles his chin in his palm, sitting beside you in a way that's certainly not good for his posture, but he can forgive himself for being comfortable just this once.

You'd built him a fire. What a strange thought that is. You'd gone outside, found the wood, split it, and built a fire in the lounge. He walked in on you as it was kindling, and you explained you had been doing this for months at Ramshackle. As if you were living in another century, he thought.

And now, here you were. You and him. Sitting in front of a marvelous fire you'd made, warm drinks he'd made you in hand, Grim snoozing on a cushion behind you. You'd been telling him about your home, your family, your schooling, your country and culture... and he'd been listening. Of course.

He'd never seen you smile so much.

"Do you miss it?" he asks, his voice quiet so as not to disturb Grim.

You're quiet for a moment. You take a sip of your drink, and then put it on the rug. Normally, he'd chastise someone for being so careless, but he doesn't even think of that now.

"...It wasn't perfect. But it was home," and that's all you say.

Vil smiles softly. "I imagine NRC hasn't been the most inviting,"

You almost chuckle at his joke. He knows that's a bit of an understatement.

"...Not until recently," you say, quietly, as if sharing a secret. "You... um... this is the closest to home I've felt."

Vil's heart skips a beat. Again, you somehow manage to leave him speechless and flustered, and he doesn't hate it. Not really. And, for a moment, he could've sworn you'd almost told him that he was the closest thing to home.

It's a scary thought. In a good way, though.

"Oh, it's snowing," you say, standing to go to the window. He lets you go, taking the moment to think about what you said.

And he thinks. And he thinks. And eventually, he thinks that he does want to be your home.

And the words he'd been avoiding for days come to him.

Because he's falling in love with you.

.

Things are easy. He cooks. You do dishes. You build him fires, and he thanks you with dark chocolate and tea. The snow gets heavier, but you have plenty of movies to watch and much to talk about, so it never bothers you.

He does your makeup for you, once or twice. You never go to sleep before a cleansing face mask. Even Grim gets his nails trimmed and fur brushed.

Vil lets you braid his hair one evening. He teaches you how to tighten the braids, how to pin them back so they stay in place. He does your own hair to show you.

He promises that when the snow melts, he'll take you shopping.

"It's a date", you smiled, and his heart skipped a beat.

You stay up late one night, scrolling through Neige's Magicam and judging his posts together. Your head is on his shoulder. His arm is around you. You fall asleep like that, and the next night, you do the same.

The door to the room he'd been so scared of knocking on is always open now, because you're never inside. You stay in his room, with his jewels and awards, where you belong.

He even lets Grim sleep on the bed, when he's behaved.

You laugh more. Even at his stupid jokes, the ones he never makes in front of anyone else, you laugh. You're beautiful, he thinks.

You talk more, too. About yourself. About your home. About NRC. The dark circles under your eyes begin to make sense. Vil's hatred of the incompetent headmaster is justified. He hates him even more.

He promises you that you can stay in Pomefiore whenever you want. There's always a door open for you.

.

One night, he gets carried away. You were in bed. He'd been attending to you again, soothing your cuticles and fussing over your hair. He peels one of his nice face masks off of you and smiles.

"Much better. Softer. Feel," he commands, guiding your hand up to feel one of your cheeks. His hand is on the other.

You touch the plush softness of your skin, greatly improved by his weeks of care, and you nod. "Better,"

"Better," he echoes. Suddenly, he has this terrible, nagging urge to touch you more, and he kisses your cheek.

It's fleeting, so fast that you might have missed it if you weren't paying attention. You are, though, and your eyes are wide.

Vil feels dread. More than before any audition or award ceremony. He stares back, desperate to find his voice.

"...Is that... okay?"

He can barely breathe until you nod.

"It's okay," you say.

He sighs, letting the dread out of him in a single breath. He curses at himself for letting his thoughts carry him away like that, and he makes a mental note to work on it. And then you drop a bombshell on him.

"...You can... do it again, if you want."

Vil says nothing. He stares, his expression unchanging, as if he hadn't heard you right.

And then he moves without thinking, without caring, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you everywhere. Your forehead, both cheeks, your nose and jaw, all of the affection he'd been withholding comes pouring out of him all at once, and it takes a strenuous amount of effort not to touch your lips.

He's almost upset that he isn't wearing lipstick. He would have liked to see you covered in kisses. The thought of you being so visibly his is intoxicating.

He pulls away after you start giggling. You're both dizzy, flustered by the attention he was giving you as if he would never get to give it again.

And he smiles back.

"Enjoying yourself?"

You take a breath to compose yourself, and you nod. It's cute. You're cute.

.

"You know, when I heard that my son was bringing someone home for the holidays, I wasn't expecting..."

Vil shoots his father a very pointed glare, both for embarrassing him and for bothering you.

You don't seem to mind, though. "I wasn't expecting to be brought home, so I guess I can't blame you,"

Erik laughs. You laugh. Vil sighs.

When he asked you if you wanted to meet his father, he wasn't really expecting you to say yes. Honestly, he was sort of hoping you wouldn't. Not because of his father, but because he was beginning to enjoy being alone with you. In your own little world together.

It's already been harder sleeping in the same room without being noticed. Their home is big, but not that big. And that's not even mentioning the cuddling and kissing Vil had grown rather dependent on in the past few weeks.

"Well, I'm pleased. If Vil is happy, I'm happy," Erik says. Vil hates the way he said that, as if he already knows...

...And there's that look again. The raised eyebrows, the cheesy grin. Pointed right at him. Vil sighs.

"Really, it was nothing. If anything, I was just appalled that none of the other housewardens had extended an invite," Vil says.

Erik nods. "You'd think with all the princes and what have you, someone would've had a spare room. I guess it all worked out for the better, though. Right?"

He may as well be planning your wedding right here. You watch as Vil sets down his fork, takes his napkin off his lap, and pushes in his chair.

"Excuse me for a moment,"

He excuses himself, stepping out of the dining room and into the hall. Pull yourself together. You have nothing to feel embarrassed about.

"Vil?"

Vil's meditative thoughts shatter at the sound of your voice, and his heart picks up again. He turns to face you.

"I... apologize for my father. He's only joking," he says.

You shake your head. "I was just making sure you're okay,"

There it is again. Always putting everyone before yourself. Always making sure he's well. Always bothering him, asking if he's eaten enough, when he should be the one worried about you. Everyone should.

The other housewardens were right. You are weird. You don't fit in at NRC. Perhaps you didn't fit in before that, too.

And perhaps that doesn't matter. Perhaps that's not such a bad thing, to be weird. You don't need to belong anywhere but with him.

Slowly, he smiles.

"I'm alright. Just... collecting my thoughts," he says.

He holds out a hand for you to take, and you take it. He gives you a gentle squeeze. You squeeze back.

"...Shall we?"

[jasmines-library]

What about a fem!reader x jason todd and they're keeping their relationship a secret but bruce sees them making out in the batcave?

This sucks but I love u and ur writings

Xoxo

Anon 💉

Head Over Heels

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Jason's lips moved softly against yours as he kissed you. Jason was a gentle lover, contrary to what many people may believe. When it comes to you, Jason always took his time to make sure everything was perfect. He never rushed into things. Weather it was just placing a hand on the small of your back when you were out in public or the way he tucked your hair behind your ear when he moved in to kiss you; everything was always thought out with Jason.

The two of you had been dating for a little while now, and you had to say that he was your world. He put so much effort into it. The two of you would often stroll together hand in hand, walking through Gotham's parks as the leaves shifted from green to a golden orange, or you would spend the cold nights cuddled up on his bed as something played quietly in the background. You loved to listen to him talk. To find every detail of his features, and uncover them like an archeologist. The freckles lining his nose. The dimple on his left cheek when he smiles. The way his eyes lit up with this gorgeous glint when the topic wandered to something he was particularly interested in. How he would become animated when showing you his bikes. It was safe to say that you were utterly in love with Jason. And he was equally as in love with you.

However the two of you had decided to keep your relationship a secret. for now, atleast. With Jason not only being in the public eye, but also being a vigilante, he didn't want you to get dragged into something you didn't need to be part of. But also...his brothers were rather...prying...and he didn't want them knowing more than he was willing to tell them. So, to stop that from happening the two of you agreed not to tell anyone until you were both comfortable.

But, as the two of you were hiding out in the cave, that plan was cut short. Too captured by the feeling of each other, you and jason failed to hear the sound of the footsteps echoing through the cave, and didn't notice that there was someone watching until they gave an awkward clear of their throat.

Pulling away from each other quickly, Jason's eyes widened as he looked up to find Bruce standing a few feet away. He tried to compose himself quickly. "Bruce- i...we..."

Bruce raised an eyebrow. He was rather amused at his son's attempt to be nonchalant. "Care to explain?"

Jason fumbled some more over his words, unable to hide the red flush that appeared on his face. It was rather cute, if you had to describe it. Eventually, he let out a soft breath. "Father....y/n is my girlfriend."

Bruce let out a hum. "I see." he took a step closer. "and how long has this been going on?"

"A few months..." Jason responded, lacing your fingers with his. You gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Bruce....you have to understand that I love her very much and I- I don't care if you approve or not because-"

A small smile appeared on Bruce's lips as he watched his son ramble protectively over you. He could tell he was head over heels for you . "Jason." He said, grabbing the boy's attention. "Its okay. I'm not going to stop you from dating. I'm happy for you."

"...you are?" Jason's eyebrows pinched together.

"Course I am."

Jason thought for a moment. "Good. Because I am too. I'm sorry i didn't tell you....we just thought it would be easier for us."

"It's alright. I'm not mad. Although....i can't say the same for when your brothers find out."

"Oh god...you cannot tell them! Please don't tell them!"

the older man just grinned, moving towards the door. "I'll leave you two alone then." he said. his footsteps, that you should have heard earlier, echoed through the room before the stopped and he reappeared. "And no more kissing."

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BATFAM TAGS

@hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish @killxz @rosecentury @azure-drag0ness @noisymutantherelol @rhiodes @thewhispersofthewaves @reggies-eyeliner

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[ohdeerfully]

K hear me out, a wife! Reader x Alastor and Charlie finds out they had a kid when they were alive. (I don’t mind what the kids name is but make them young and passed due to Spanish flu, dark I know)

omg this has been sitting in my drafts so long, i love requests like this </3 im sorry if it seems rushed, i really wanted to finish it!

Mourning Dove

Alastor x Reader (angst, slight comfort at end) TW: CHILD DEATH, child sickness, reader referred to as a woman but doesnt effect story too much join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══

You sat yourself unceremoniously at the bar in the hotel lobby, shoulders slouched and cheek squished against the cold countertop. You weren’t one for alcohol, but you didn’t mind the company of Husk. He didn’t say much unless prompted, but that didn’t bother you. It was nice, honestly, after a day of dealing with the others.

“Somethin’ the matter?” Okay. Nevermind about him not saying much.

“Hmm?” You responded, barely peeking up from your finger that dragged patterns in the surface you laid against. “I’m good.”

“You don’t look it,” Husk observed, and you knew he was referring to the discoloration of your eyes and the residual dampness of your cheeks from crying. Your hair was a mess, too. Yeah, you looked like shit. “Tough day?”

“I guess, yeah,” You sighed, pushing yourself up and leaning back in a stretch while your fingers gripped the countertop to steady yourself. “Just thinking about… Y’know.”

He didn’t pry, and you were thankful for that. Husk did know a little, actually, and knew better than to push for more details. After being stuck with Alastor for so long, with the guy owning his soul and all, he inevitably learned some deep shit about him and, by extension, you. He just grunted in response and went back to spot cleaning his bottles of booze.

“(Y/N)!” A chipper voice called your name, and you squeezed your eyes shut in frustration. You thought you were done with all of this for the day, and you were so ready to just go to sleep. “I wanted everybody to join me for dinner today! We have a few new residents, so I want everybody to meet each other.”

You squeezed your lips to prevent a harsh word from responding to Charlie’s invitation. You were so tired. You feigned a weak smile and looked at her. You wanted to say no, to say you needed to sleep, but those huge, pleading eyes of hers caught the rejection in your throat. You tried to reason with yourself that Charlie doesn’t host stuff like this very often. It would just be one night. You’ll survive.

“Okay.” 

She clasped her hands together and jumped on the balls of her feet, thanked you, and took off to find the next resident to invite. You held your head against your hand and you sighed dramatically. Husk looked at you from the corner of his eye, but opted to remain silent. You stood up after a few more minutes of quiet sulking, deciding you should fix yourself up for dinner.

In your room, you gently fixed your hair and threw on a casual outfit. Nothing super nice, just in case food started flying–knowing the antics of some of the hotel residents, it wouldn’t be a surprise.

You slowly made your way to the banquet room, which Charlie had installed for events like today. You could already hear the low murmur of small talk, and you were surprised to see a few new faces. Not a whole lot, just about five, alongside the familiar faces of your friends. Charlie’s hotel was, slowly but surely, becoming more successful.

You spotted Alastor quickly–he was hard to miss due to his height. You settled yourself in a chair next to him at a long table that Charlie had dragged into the room for everybody to sit at. You felt your skin prickle with the familiar sensation of static, which increased slightly as his attention turned towards you. He gave you a grin before focusing his eyes on the racket that was already picking up. You watched his smile curl, a bit sinister, as the sound of shouting caught your attention.

“-my fuckin’ business!” You picked up the tail end of Angel Dust fuming at Vaggie, one pair of arms crossed under his chest. He had a third hand on his hip, with his fourth hand jabbing an accusatory point at the woman in front of him.

“Guys, please!” Charlie pleaded, pressing her shoulder against Vaggie’s in an attempt to move her away from Angel. “I don’t want to scare my new guests away!”

“Tell this bitch to keep her nose outta my shit! I can’t have my fuckin’ life on the line because she doesn’t like my job!” Angel spat. There was a dangerous, maybe even frantic, look in his eyes. Before Charlie could say anything, Angel had spun around and stormed to the table. He ripped the chair out and slammed his body down. All four of his arms were crossed now as he glowered at the wooden tabletop.

You sighed, and felt a headache already forming. 

Angel’s spirits quickly changed when Husk sulked into the room. He had his paws stuffed in his pockets, and glared at the air in front of him. He sat down at the other end of the table, but Angel was quick to stand up and saunter his way over to sit next to the cat. You couldn’t quite catch the flirtatious remarks that made Husk roll his eyes. 

You observed them for a while, watching as Husk slowly grew more comfortable in the small talk he and Angel shared. He would never admit it, but you knew Husk didn’t hate Angel’s company. Husk seemingly said something about you to Angel that made him whip his head up to look at you. You quickly averted your gaze.

Charlie had been standing by her own chair, and a cough from her throat made the chatter die down. You didn’t really listen to the overly sappy speech she had started to give, your mind drifting away in absent thought. You picked your nails into the edge of the table, fidgeting with the light cloth.

Alastor caught your attention by lightly nudging his leg against yours. You trailed your eyes up to his, meeting his red gaze. There was a hint of worry in his eyes, and his grin twitched at the edges as he looked at your exhausted face. He tilted his head in a silent question.

You merely shook your head in response, and mouthed a quick “it’s nothing” and hoped that he wouldn’t press. He didn’t, but you knew he’d ask again in a private room.

Charlie sat down again, and Vaggie rubbed her shoulder, murmuring a silent praise. You dragged your eyes across the table, making note of the handful of new faces. None of them seemed to take Charlie very seriously, but that didn’t come as a surprise. They probably just liked free food.

The food in question seemingly materialized out of nowhere, and you chalked it up to her “princess of hell” type powers that she didn’t use very often. You smiled gratefully and, though you didn’t have much of an appetite, you started slowly picking at the plate in front of you.

The room once again began to rumble with small talk, but at some point the multiple conversations began to melt together until the whole table was talking to each other in one. Charlie was doing most of the heavy lifting with keeping the conversation going.

“-the deal with the Radio Demon and that gal next to him?” You perked your ears when you heard this reference to yourself. One of the new guests, some sort of lizard demon, had a finger pointed at the two of you. He had a slight country drawl in his voice. You saw Alastor’s smile widen when the attention of the table turned towards himself.

“My darling wife,” Alastor stated simply, briefly placing a hand on your shoulder. His eyes were closed as he smiled proudly. You silently nodded with a light, polite smiling. “We knew each other in life. It’s only natural for us to remain together. It would have been a shame for death to do us part.”

“Didn’t think you was the type…” The lizard said slowly, eyeing the two of you carefully. You didn’t blame him; what kind of nut job would marry the Radio Demon? Though, as Alastor said, you were married before Hell, and he wasn’t so… infamous back then. He was actually rather sweet, besides the whole serial killer thing–which, in your defense, you weren’t even aware of till he was shot to death.

“Didn’t think ya were the type to have a kid, either,” Angel piped up absently, one arm thrown lazily over the back of his chair. You watched as Husk tried desperately to shut him up as he continued to speak, but you barely heard the words over the sound of your heart picking up pace, and the increased radio frequency of Alastor’s. His body had stiffened and his eyes had shot open, quickly narrowing as his smile strained and curled dangerously, his gums visible in a snarl. His eyes were not on Angel, but on Husk, whose ears were flattened against his head and a nervous look in his wide eyes.

You weren’t really paying attention though, but you felt the intense tension and rapid prickling on your skin. Your breathing became more labored and you pointed your face to the table to try to hide the building tears in your eyes. You had tried so hard, all day, to push back the memories that kept threatening to resurface. What are the chances that on the same day, the topic was brought up, destroying the wall you had built to contain the anxiety, regret, grief…

You were kneeling by the wrinkled, messy sheets of the twin bed your son had been in for the past couple days. Your heart was tight, and you could barely breathe as you looked at him. He gazed blearily at the ceiling, following the path of the rocking fan. Every breath he took scratched at his throat, as if there were pebbles blocking the path. He barely had the strength to cough. His lips were dry and cracked, and his graying skin still had a flush of fever. You used a damp rag to clean the dried snot under his nose.

You had tried everything. Every recommended antibiotic, every treatment, therapy, exercise; nothing had worked. Nobody knew how to treat the illness. You had even tried to work with witch doctors that Alastor knew. You had spent so much of what little money you had trying to save your little boy.

Alastor was often gone during this time, being the one to go out and find something new to try. You never left the room, even when your husband tried to push you to go outside to stretch your legs or take a shower. He promised to watch over your son. But you just couldn’t, not with David laying on these dirty sheets, looking so frail, weak, and small. You had often called him little dove, and it made you sick to think that your nickname was now like a cruel adjective to describe his current state. A sick, frail baby bird. He had barely eaten in the past eight days, and you didn’t want to admit to yourself that any scratchy breath he took could be that last one.

You stiffened when his head rolled over towards you, and his eyes struggled to focus on you. His cracked lips grimaced for a moment, followed by a sharp, grating cough that made your heart drop and your eyes sting. You reached a shaky hand forward to smooth down his knotted hair.

“Am I going to be okay,” David said weakly. His voice caught on the tightness in his throat multiple times. “I feel really bad.”

“I know baby, but you’re okay,” You said tenderly, continuing to stroke his hair. “Your dad is getting you some new medicine. You’ll be okay.”

You were lying to him, and to yourself. But you couldn’t help but cling on to a morsel of hope–it was all you could do, really. David just looked towards you, his eyes flicking around slightly, unable to truly focus on anything.

“I’m tired.” He said. His breathing was labored.

“I know.”

Your emotions threatened to spill from your eyes as you watched him turn his head back towards the ceiling, eyes shutting. You didn’t want to cry; you couldn’t, not in front of him. You needed to stay strong for him.

You pressed the back of your hand to his burning forehead, and then trailed your hand to his chest, lightly pressing against him to feel his heartbeat. It was slow, and slowing. Your own heart picked up in response. 

You heard the door in another room open, shut, and footsteps quickly pace towards the room. The door cracked lightly, and the tall, thin frame of your husband peeked in. He held a brown back tightly in his fist. With one look into your eyes, he knew something was wrong. Or, well, more wrong than usual. 

You clenched your jaw to prevent any sob from escaping your lips as he sat the bag down on an end table and kneeled next to you, gripping your waist tightly as he looked at David. The boy’s breath had gotten dangerously quiet.

You watched as his eyes opened again.

“I’m tired.” He repeated, weaker this time.

Both you and Alastor leaned towards the bed, his hand on David’s leg as you gingerly lifted the boy’s head into your arms, pulling his light body towards yourself. You shifted yourself up into the bed with him, trying to wrap as much of yourself around your son as possible. You could feel his heartbeat getting slower with every weak breath he took.

“Sleep, then,” your voice trembled. You felt Alastor grip your shoulder, his other hand softly rubbing David’s arm. You couldn’t describe the expression on his face. “I’ll see you in the morning, little dove.” You lied.

“In heaven?” He responded. Your breath hitched at his words. He knew, somehow, that he was dying. How sick it was, for such a young boy to be aware of his impending death. How cruel God was.

“Yeah, I promise,” Was all you could muster. You worried that any more would destroy the dam that held back your tears.

It broke, though, when you felt David’s heart finally stop. You choked on a sob once, twice, before finally you started wailing. Screaming. You held a vice-like grip on the boy, both your arms and legs secured around him. Alastor was still quiet, but he had sat across from you on the bed and pulled you towards him, securing you and David’s still-warm body in an equally tight grip. You could feel his strained breathing and tight jaw against your head. He said something, but you didn’t hear him.

Your mind rushed back to the present when you felt a hand on your back. Your head whipped towards Alastor, who was looking at you. The table was dead silent, and there was still a look of rage in his eyes, but his smile held a softness that was only ever given to you. Your heart still beat strongly, and you struggled to breathe, but you were at least glad that your mind was still back in the present.

Evidently, barely any time had passed. Angel had a nervous look in his expression, which he tried and failed to mask as Husk cursed at him. Charlie was looking at you in worry.

“(Y/N),” She said softly. “...How come you never-”

“Truly, there is no point in speaking of life before death,” Alastor interrupted her, the usual cheer in his voice lilted by a masked emotion. You knew he felt the same grief as you, but he was a million times better at acting naturally. “What a waste of time and emotion.”

Alastor stood quickly, his hand trailing against your shoulders as he walked past you and towards Angel and Husk. Husk’s ears flattened to his skull again as Alastor loomed over them, hands behind his back as a smile twisted his features.

“Husker, my friend,” He said, the cat demon visibly flinching at the mention of his name. “Let’s take a walk.”

Husk didn’t move, and the room grew heavy with tension with every second as the sound of radio frequency got louder and somehow sharper. Alastor bent at the waist, his snarling smile inches away from the panicked expression on Husk’s face. 

“Is the tomcat getting too old to hear?” You barely picked up Alastor’s words, but you definitely heard the threatening tone in his voice.

The cat swallowed hard before standing up. He shot one last infuriated look at Angel, before whipping his head back to attention when Alastor tapped his cane against the ground impatiently. The two of them left the room, and the tension in the air immediately lifted when the door shut.

Charlie startled you when she placed a delicate hand on your upper arm, and she guided you to your feet and out another set of doors. A weak smile touched her expression.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked as you both went up the stairs towards your hotel room. You shook your head silently at her offer. She only nodded back, and said nothing more. She opened the door to your room for you, and waited till you settled down in your bed before saying a string of comforting words that you didn’t really pay attention to. The door clicked softly, and you once again began to sob.

Only a few minutes passed before you felt your skin prickle with a static-like feeling. You had grown to find comfort in the odd sensation, and felt incredibly relieved when you knew Alastor was sitting next to you. You didn’t even hear him enter the room.

He pulled you wordlessly against his chest, lying the two of you down. You twisted yourself in his grip till your ear rested against him, listening to the odd drum of what you assumed was a heart.

“Has David been troubling you all day?” He asked you when your sobs slowed and you caught your breath. You nodded. Alastor rubbed a soothing hand on your shoulder blade. You recognized the tone of grief in his voice as he spoke. “What a pesky boy, even all these years later.”

You wrapped your arms tightly around Alastor’s neck as tears began flowing again.

Though you would never tell him, you often hoped Charlie’s idea of redemption would work. Your husband himself would likely never follow that path; you knew he saw no point and enjoyed the power he held in Hell. But, you wished every day to see your son again. To see your little dove.

You had promised him.

[livelaughlovesubs]

~ 05.10 - Sigma ~

Dom!reader x sub!Lamb!Sigma - reader is gender neutral

Warning: lamb hybrid, teasing, dirty talk, breeding kink (once mentioned), heat circle, fingering, handjob, dacryphilia, ears stroking, biting, implied stalking, sigma didn’t really give his permission..? (His mind wasn’t clear), overstimulation, sub-space, mind break

~ Word count: 5.6k ~

Nini!rant: I LOVE SIGMA AHHHHH

Kinktober list 2024

Sounds of chips clattering echoed through the casino, alongside the irritating chatter of the high-class people. Each and every one of them held a glass of champagne in their hand, cards in their other one. The atmosphere was stuffy yet elegant, a lingering sense of seriousness wouldn't leave. It was to be expected, one wrong move at any given time at any of the tables could mean your downfall. The chandelier's light shone brightly, like a second sun, illuminating every corner of the sky casino.

Among this grandiose hall full of players, there was a man who stood out more than anyone. He wasn’t an extraordinarily lucky or good player, in fact, he was the dealer, the one managing the game. It might be due to his skills with cards, or that confident smirk he wore that seemed awfully fake to you. Who knows, it could even be his unusual hair color. White and light lavender, split cleanly in the middle, a combination you haven’t heard of til now. When your eyes scanned over his outfit, you noted every little detail about him.

How rare for someone to catch your interest like this, you had to get to know him. His clothes were formal, but his sleeves were way bigger than the normality, it’s good for hiding cards. That cotton candy-like hair of his reached his waist, it was loose and cut in a weird manner. Somehow it still looked good, in its own unique ways.

“Who’s his barber…” You whispered under your breath, unsure if you were impressed by that barber's luck or ability to communicate. Through sheer luck or skill, he somehow managed to convince the man that it looked normal.

The scent of Parfum tickled your nostrils, a woman to your right turned over to you and said, “Him? Oh, it’s the manager of this fine establishment.” She smiled sincerely, praising that man, “I respect him for granting us this lavish lifestyle.” She appeared very friendly, though you couldn’t help but wonder why she suddenly talked to you.

The girl noticed your hesitant look and flinched, “Didn't you ask who he was? Ah..! You weren’t talking to me, I’m deeply sorry!” Then she ran off, without giving you an opening to say thanks, she was probably too embarrassed by the situation. Sure, you were a little awkward at first since you didn't realize she was talking to you, nonetheless, you wanted to ask her a bit more about that amazing manager everyone appears to like. How did you know that? He had made quite a name for himself.

Well, there is nothing to be done now, guess you’ll have to find out more through other sources. Contrary to what you expected, after meticulously asking around, no one could provide information about him that you didn't already know. His name was Sigma, and where he came from is unknown as well as his last name. How he acquired his current position is also hidden in the dark. He’s known to be refined and hard-working, but that is all they know about his personality.

“It’s strange how little information there is about him, considering his reasonably large popularity." You mumbled under your breath, he was a tough one. Though that difficulty only made you more curious about him, was there more to this simple man? Some might ask what you'd gain from investigating him like this, and honestly, you didn’t know. Rather, you just wanted to know more about him. After ‘observing’ (watching his every step) him for almost two months now, you’ve picked up on some of his habits.

Despite his great reputation, he does cheat during work at times. Not due to bribery, but to help the unfortunate ones. And every time he’d do that, he’d look a little nervous afterward, probably at the possibility of getting caught and ruining the high expectations he has to carry around. “But he still helped that old geezer.” You whispered, smiling to yourself. He was a kind soul, too nice for being a casino manager, a title that’s often associated with being greedy for money.

Another thing that you noticed was how he’d take a day free about every two and a half weeks. So, 16-17 days. It was a strange way of having a vacation, and to be fair you thought he wouldn’t rest at all considering what his character was like.When you tried to find out what he does in his free time, you were met with no results. An absolute zero. He’d spend the entire day in his room, and have his guards block the entrance. You weren't even allowed to walk by his door, not like it would have led you to somewhere meaningful.

Now let's ask a question, what could he have done the entire time? Did he enjoy a perverse hobby during these days, or why did he have to keep it so secure? Nevertheless, since this was a dead end, you became more engaged and determined to find out the reason behind it. Which is why you finally approached him after all this time, instead of watching from afar.

Sigma had long noticed your sharp stares at him, quietly following him around like a shadow. His only concern was, why did you do this? He was responsible for making everything work, so he was quite observant as well. All this time he worried that it would turn out to be dangerous for him and his casino, yet you didn’t do anything, only staring at him like a beast eyeing up its prey. So consider him surprised when you suddenly sat down at the table he was dealing and asked to join the game.

He was so suspicious of you the entire time, eyes finding themselves on you whenever he was caught off guard. Despite all that, he still didn’t make any mistakes, that man took his job very seriously. Now that you were up closer to him, you realized you didn't give his beauty enough credit. You wondered if he was actually Modeling in his free time or other things under similar categories. Perhaps he posed vulgarly for some photoshoots?

That could make sense considering he has a reputation to uphold, so if anything unpleasant gets revealed he won’t be able to continue doing this job. Ah, look at that, your mind has wandered off to some dirtier subjects again. You wondered, surely this angel-like appearance of his isn’t only a facade? In the end, you couldn’t help but chuckle, startling the boy and your opponents. Why were you laughing, was it a bluff or a cry for help?

Sigma considered himself very loyal to his customers, he dedicated himself to them, yet he can’t seem to read you at all. After spending all that time among people, learning about them and their body language, he still couldn’t understand the purpose behind your actions. There was just no way you were watching him for no reason, right? Even now, you weren’t paying attention to the game on the table, those sharp eyes of yours were only on him, on his every move.

What the heck… that’s almost creepy, he thought, gulping down a lump that was stuck in his throat. He tried his best to ignore you, but who could possibly do that when you were staring at him so intensely? Can’t you focus on the damn game? You were going to lose at this rate. Contrary to what Sigma predicted, you won in the end. Surprise and irritation were written all over his face, he couldn’t believe it with his own two eyes when he knew that he gave the cards fairly.

Was it luck? Probably.

You were just a fortunate player, that was the only answer. While Sigma was still lost in thoughts, you started striking up a conversation with him. “So, manager? The mood is fantastic tonight as well, isn’t it?” You commented, putting your elbow onto the poker table and stabilizing your head with your hand. He stared at you blankly, not responding even after you praised him, “Thanks for your hard work.” And here he was, wondering what you were going to say. At least he knows you are not a rude person?

It took a while before he gave you a reply, probably because he was taken aback. Then the male smiled gently, wearing the same trained and calculated expression as always as he said, “I’m glad you feel that way, y/n, it is my greatest honor.” You chuckled, so he knew your name. Did he do a background check on you? My, you didn't realize you appeared so dangerous in his eyes. A smug grin was plastered on your lips while you spoke, “Our manager is a blessing from the heavens, eh?”

He blinked at your statement, a little flabbergasted at your bold words. Can he take that as a compliment or sarcasm? Before Sigma could deal the cards for you, you stood up and left. Turning your head over your shoulder while waving to them, especially the pastel-haired guy goodbye. “That was my last game for today, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You didn’t even bother asking if he would be dealing tomorrow as if you knew he would. Have you learned his schedule already?

After this game he’ll need to do another background check on you, he won��t allow anything that harms his ‘life’ to remain at this building. But guess what? He was still unable to find anything about you, other than your personal number, room, and name.

To his dismay, you also started bugging him every single day. The moment he’d step into the hall to do his job and show his face, you’d be sitting at the table he’s responsible for. How did you do that anyway, can you predict the future or something? Was that perhaps your ability- no, don’t think about something so troublesome.

He can't deal with it, he is too scared for that. If he could, he would have banned you already, sadly he didn’t find a single misdeed from you, there was nothing. It would be too unreasonable to throw you out for no reason, it could ruin his reputation. What a pain in the neck you were, couldn't you just leave him alone? How bothersome, as if he didn't have enough on his plate already, did you have to barge into his peaceful life like that?

This cat-and-mouse game continued for the next two weeks. With you being near him as often as you could, and him trying to avoid you at all costs. That’s not even the most scandalous part, no. No matter what you played, you kept winning, your lucky strike was in the double digits now. The other customers began to encourage you and be on your side, and with that, it will be even harder to kick you out now.

Damn.. why can’t things go his way? If it was Fyodor, he would have definitely come up with a way to deal with this. That undeniably intelligent man would have manipulated you for sure, and got you to leave on your own accord-

What’s stopping him from doing that?

Sure, Fyodor was way better than him in all possible aspects, but it doesn’t mean he can't do it, right? He isn't useless after all. It has to be a watertight plan though, one that wouldn’t hurt the image of his establishment. By the looks of it, you were only interested in him, no matter what the reason might be. So if he causes you to feel uncomfortable or upset, you’ll definitely go away, right? Wait, for that wouldn’t he need to get close to you first? Doesn’t matter, as long as he can get rid of you, you were giving him the chills after all.

That’s why he began opening up to you as well, answering your teasing questions with a humble attitude. Sometimes he'd tell jokes himself. His change didn’t go unnoticed by you, heck, it surprised you how he became so playful out of nowhere. Though, that was alright with you, in truth, you liked spending time with him. You’d also ask him to join the game and show off his skills from time to time, and today was the first time he agreed. Were the two of you actually making progress in this relationship?

Until now both of you have only been testing the waters. Sweet, you thought to yourself, he was so gorgeous you were like a moth drawn to his radiance. So seeing him reciprocating your attempts caused you to believe he was returning your efforts. At first, he said he’d only participate in one game, then that one game turned into two or three and suddenly you’ve been gaming until midnight. While chatting with him, you tried to make him feel comfortable, which is why you kept filling his glass.

Surprisingly, he actually continued to drink, so you thought he must like it a lot, which is why you kept pouring more and more. After you guys hit the midnight mark, Sigma could barely hold his cards anymore. Even so, he was still winning the game, which could be because the other guys were totally wasted and you let him win to see his eyes lighten up so adorably.

Well, even if you enjoyed this fun night a lot, it was time to end the party. You can’t let the dear manager lose his precious reputation because of you. Otherwise, the guests might make fun of him, for getting drunk and sleeping on the floor. Gently, you poked his cheeks. His skin was very soft. Then, you wrapped his arm around your shoulder and dragged him to his chamber. Looking over him did have some gains, you knew a lot of new things about him. For example, you knew where his room was.

First, you opened the door with the keycard Sigma had with him, and then you threw him onto the bed. “That should do it.” You mumbled, about to leave when he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Huh? Are you awake?” That shocked you, almost enough for you to push his hands away due to your reflexes. “Dun- go… m’ cold... you're warm." He stumbled over his words, saying them funnily like a drunkard would. “What?” You asked, even though you knew you wouldn’t get a logical answer out of him.

“Mhhnmmm~ stay..?” Sigma looked up at you through heavy eyes, his cheeks all red due to the effects of the alcohol. It sounded very inviting indeed, but you had to think about it. Wouldn't it look bad for you to come out of his room the next day? Yet he didn't let go of you, no matter what. In the end, you decided to stay, since you were too tired to go back to your room anyway and he wouldn’t loosen up his grip for the love of god. That’s the story of how you ended up spending a night with him, a rather innocent one at that.

All you two did was cuddle since the manager suddenly got awfully clingy and wouldn’t keep his hands to himself. The next day though, things went a little differently. Actually, you’ve been awake long before him, but you couldn’t get up and leave, ending with you staying and pondering over what his reaction would be once he sobers up. He’ll be mad, right? He might even kick you out of the Sky Casino. An audible sigh left you and you turned to look at him, staring at his sleeping face.

He looked very peaceful, sleeping so soundly while using your now sore arm as a pillow. It was something you’ve noticed for a long time now, but he was breathtakingly beautiful, at least in your eyes. You brushed a lock of hair from his face and tugged it behind his ear, that gesture somehow woke him up. His eyes twitched and he groaned a little, furrowing his brows. “Ughh…” So this will be the moment you'll have to confront him, you have to prepare yourself mentally for his screams-

“Ah-ahh… y/n..? Please, I’m feeling so hot.. help me ooout.” Sigma whined, sitting up and squeezing the blanket between his fingers, eyes pressed tightly shut as he took a minute to get used to the light. “Huh.” You accidentally let out, staring at him with wide eyes. Out of nowhere, tears collected in the corners of his sockets while he inhaled rapidly, his cheeks were also heating up and his entire frame was shaking. Why was he blushing like this, were these the aftermaths of a normal hangover, or did he get a fever?

The first one seemed unlikely, yet the second one... did you accidentally keep the blanket to yourself and thus made him freeze? God, what to do? What a pitiful guy. All your worries were blown away the moment he started taking off his clothes and uttering in a moany voice, “I-I want to ughh.. do it with me, please… can you, y/n?” Did you hear him right, what the heck was he blabbering on about? You thought your senses dulled due to the alcohol, you must be hearing it wrong.

Then he repeated it again, this time sounding even more desperate. “Please, t-touch me, please..” At this point, he was already half naked, shirt hanging down his shoulders and pants discarded somewhere. He reached his arms out to you, holding your neck and pulling you closer to him. As soon as you were close enough, he trapped you with his legs, wrapping them around your waist. Afterward, he whispered more of his desires into your ear, “fuck me.. please, I-i dunno why m’ like this.. it hurts.”

A shiver ran down your spine and your stomach curled, shit if he keeps doing that you won’t be able to hold back. “Hey, easy there- aren’t you just still drunk?” That didn’t make sense at all but so were his actions. Maybe he was having a fever dream and these were his hidden fantasies? Nevertheless, he almost got you. “I-I’m not drunk.” Sigma pouted as he said that, rubbing his face into the crook of your neck. “Yea yea.. of course.” You didn’t sound very convinced, so the boy explained it to you, “I think,,, it’s t-time for my heat..?”

You blinked then blinked twice. Excuse him what? Heat? He wasn’t some animal or monster, was he? So why would he- As if Sigma heard your internal monologue, a pair of fluffy white ears alongside a tail popped out of his head and backside respectively. These features looked akin to a sheep, though somehow smaller. “How is this possible?” You wondered, after seeing it in reality you couldn’t deny this anymore. If he is currently in heat.. then it’d make sense why he’d take a break every sixteen days.

Though it was still unbelievable, considering the circumstances. Was it a side effect of his ability or something? You wanted to ask, but he kissed you first, pressing his soft lips against yours. “Ah.. mhmm- ngh..!” Sigma moaned into the kiss, something as innocent as this was all it took for him to become all whiny. Even though he took the initiative to beg you, you were still hesitant about it. Somehow it didn’t feel right fucking him when he wasn’t in his right mind, it was as if you were taking advantage of him.

After breaking the kiss, he held you even closer to him, almost as if he was scared of you leaving. Another minute passed and you made up your mind, reaching for his crotch. There was a darker patch on his pants, some kind of liquid seeped through the fabric. You haven’t even touched him, yet everything was all sticky and slippery already, if it wasn't for the noticeable bulge one could mistake him for a girl.

With careful movements, you slipped your hand past his waistband, slowly trailing down his pelvis. “UhmM…” he gasped at the coldness of your hand, then tried to muffle his noises, lips sealed tightly into a thin line. Your freezing fingertips brushed over his erect dick, the temperature was quite different compared to your hand. To think a simple kiss was enough to bring him to this state, poor thing, he won’t be able to handle you.

Then you wrapped your hand around his shaft, squeezing the base a little, “hnngh..!” which immediately yearned you a whine from him. “How cute.” You whispered against his neck, planting kisses on his skin. The gentle motion tickled him, and his body jerked slightly. "D-don't tease me..." Sigma groaned, glaring at you with needy eyes. After riling him up so much, you had to help him get off properly, didn’t you? The other hand was on his cheek, holding his face in place as you devoured that little lamb.

Since, in the end, all of your actions became more aggressive.

At first, you were only giving him a slow-paced hand job, running your palm up and down tenderly. Now, your hand was moving so fast, jerking him off so eagerly that he was shaking in his seat. “Ah.. hiiHhnn~!! That feels to-good..." Sigma admitted between rapid gasps, his breath was ragged and uneven. His heart was also pounding in his chest, all due to the feeling of your skin on his. Just that alone was enough to ignite a fire within him, causing his body to heat up, burn, and be on the verge of exploding.

Was this the effects of his heat, since it’s the first time someone is helping him with it? Other than just moving your hand, you’d also stop at times to tease him or run your thumb over his precum-covered slit. Each time you’d do that, he’d end up twitching hopelessly while more pre covered your hand. A sharp and loud moan would also slip from him, encouraging you to continue. Sticky and disgusting strings of filth would stick to your fingers, making a mess everywhere.

You weren’t sure if you were going overboard or not, considering how messed up he already looked. His face was as red as a tomato and eyes all teary, lips swollen from the previous kiss while he trembled all over. Originally, you were planning on getting him off like this before leaving, but then he just had to say some dirty words to provoke you. “I wa-want ahhh~ more.. fuck me, breed me.. anything♥︎♡” it didn’t take too long until he craved something more intimate than a simple handjob.

The heat was created for one purpose only after all, for mating. So of course he wouldn’t be satisfied with only this. You were mildly aroused yet also skeptical, should you really do it? If yes, then you'll have to prepare him first, which is why your slick-covered fingers slid away from his cock and instead moved downwards until your middle and index finger found his puffy hole. The little lamb jumped at your cold digits that were poking around at his entrance, shivering while you rubbed him there.

“UhhNNhg- d-don’t tease.. stick it in already..!” He almost sounded angry now or frustrated with you. Hands bawled into fists while he waited as patiently as he could, eyes begging you to hurry up. “What’s with that look in your eyes, are you impatient little lamb?” You teased him, watching as he gritted his teeth at you. “I-if you know then.. stop playing.” At this point he couldn’t feel his legs anymore, that was how weak and hot he had become.

Feeling your fingers play with his most embarrassing parts like that was lewder than he expected, he almost wanted to crawl away and hide. Especially: Why did you insist on annoying or teasing him like this? Just get on with it already! To his surprise, you actually did, carefully pushing your finger inside him. Due to how wet they were from his fluids, you didn't need any lube to insert them inside him. The first chuckle went in smoothly, then the second one, until your entire finger was buried inside him.

You started off with one since you didn't want to overwhelm the boy. “Ah-hnNgh.. yes, just like tha-that mhHh..!” He threw his head back already, moaning around your finger. For a second you thought he did this often, because he took your finger suspiciously well, now you were almost sure. Is he already feeling good just from being stretched? That means he's a talent or just a total slut. “Please, moreeee~ !!” Sigma begged you with a melodic voice, his eyes sparkled as he pleaded. In conclusion? He's probably a whore, though who were you to refuse him?

Soon, a second finger joined in. It pushed past his tight muscles and rubbed against his spongy walls. His insides were warm and wet as if he was inviting you to go deeper. You curled your fingers upwards, trying to find his prostate, the sweet spot that would turn him into a mushy little brainless lamb. After a little search, you eventually found it by accident, brushing over this stretchy and special place. “MhhHMM..!? Wa-wait! It feels go-good there, uh-ughmm♡..! What is,, that..?" ” He clenched his fists again, before loosening his grip up and crawling at your back instead.

His question was somehow very innocent, you didn't expect that response. On a side note, those heavenly moans he let out were so perverted, they could have been straight out of a porno. You licked your bottom lip, admiring his pretty features. His long hair that was spread on the king-sized bed, his beautiful face which was slowly getting defiled by you, and his twitching body that was trying to get used to the pleasure you provided him. Truly adorable.

“I’ll go faster now, alright?” You gave him a heads-up before fingering him sloppily, thrusting your fingers in and out of him. His rim would clench around you so erotically each time your finger went deep inside him, creating squelching sounds. Since you’ve found his weak spot already, you started rubbing that spot at every chance you got, basically abusing it. In the beginning, you were only thinking about helping out this manager, but now you were pretty entertained by his reactions.

If you moved only a little differently, he'd already moan and whimper with a different pitch. Damn it, you wanted to fuck him so bad, even though your consciousness is holding you back. Your fingers felt so nice inside him, they were hitting all the right places that he liked. How come you knew his sweet spots as well? And why were you this skilled? It was simply too much for him to handle! All these overstimulations would only cause him to go numb, brain getting fucked out by your touches.

“NghHh.! Yo-you, mHmm, hah.., it’s so good..♡♡” The little lamb was already spouting random nonsense, nails digging into the skin on your back while his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Every time something felt especially nice, his tail would flicker around and ears twitch mindlessly. A pained smile spread around your lips, trying to ignore the chilling sensation of his scratching you. You poured all your energy into pleasuring him, this helpless yet adorable thing.

Despite him scratching your back pretty intensely, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him to stop. He was only doing this because you were fucking him too well, after all. So you continued to ignore it, in contrary, you fingered him as fast as you could, while your other hand jerked him off at the same time. "HNGhhh- ahHHh, y/nNN!! Y/nn- MHmmm.?!"

What were you thinking?! He won't be able to take much more, really! Heck, he’ll pass out again if you continue—!

“Ah, p-please, pleaseee~! Ughnhh..! Too much- too fa-fast, too harrrd..~♡♥︎!!” What was happening to him, why did his stomach tighten just now? It felt strange as if something was going to come out soon. So many sensations he had never experienced before were swirling inside him, like a whirlpool, it was exhilarating. The way all this pleasure and electricity was traveling through his veins, carrying this heavenly ecstasy to every corner of his body was too much for the boy to handle!

Sigma gasped and whined at that feeling, also at your non-stop pounding. What were you trying to do, poking his insides so much, did you want to rearrange his insides? It's times like this when he feels like he finally saw your true nature, you were like a beast that was about to swallow him whole. God dammit, all of this bliss was rendering him unable to think properly, he could only clench onto you while whining into your ear about it being too much.

Pretty diamond-like tears streamed down his flushed cheeks, mouth agape from his heavy breathing. He looked absolutely pathetic and miserable, so ruined that you wouldn't be able to recognize him in his current state. If having his clothes lying around all disheveled wasn't proof enough, one look at his fucked out face would convince anyone. Even you noticed how his hips trembled and wriggled whenever your finger was filling him up to the brim, you couldn't tell if he was wriggling away or trying to force you deeper inside.

Many shivers and shudders were coursing through his body, ending with him tightening his rim or dick twitching uncontrollably. He must be close, but this soon? Aw, he must have been pent up, what a cute boy. “It’s alright, you can let it allll out~ don’t resist.” You leaned down and whispered into his ear, turning his thoughts into pure chaos. His ear reddened, if that was even humanly possible, and a breathy whine escaped his dry throat. “NghhHH… aAGhhrr, pleaaase♡♡♥︎…”

Now his little tail was wagging around like a dog's, and his tongue was hanging out just like a puppy as well. Should you doubt his identity as a sheep? Gosh, what were you going to do with him, he was way too adorable for his own good. Suddenly, you caressed his white lamb ears, in the process you got some of his precum that was still on your fingers onto his fur. His ears were so soft to the touch that you were amazed.

Then you became bolder and bolder, rubbing the base of his ears or kissing them, licking and biting the tip even. You'd do a large range of things, can one describe it as multitasking? But your favorite activity must be observing his face, watching as he falters and crumbles from your touch. The sight of his face twisting into a dumb and senseless expression was so perverted and erotic, you found it very beautiful.

It was fine for you to indulge like this though, after all, sigma enjoyed all of it. Truly, everything you did to him felt so pleasurable he wondered why he didn't explore these things earlier. Of course, he'd never admit all that to you, since it's way too humiliating, but he was still a pretty prideful man. You were amused, you hadn't had this much fun for what felt like an eternity. After this play, you'll have to thank him, and possibly make him yours.

Hearing his sweet moans and gasps, as well as watching his melting expressions... well, it had been mentioned before already, you adored doing exactly that. While you kept admiring his beauty and gorgeous appearance, you didn’t even notice how his voice gradually increased in volume, signaling his upcoming orgasm. “Ah-hUhhh.!! I-i’m, mHnm- it’s co-coming oouuUUTT, yyy/nNNNNN～♡♡♥︎!!”

Before you could react to his words, he shot out his sticky cum, splattering that thick and filthy thing everywhere. It got on your hands, clothes, and thighs. As well as his belly, chest, legs, or the once-clean bed below him. The poor cleaning service, they'll have to work hard to get this out of the mattress. "Shhhh, it's alright, you did great." You reassured him, pulling your finger out of him after slowly letting him ride out his high. Then you held him so gently he could start crying again.

You didn't expect him to be the emotional type after sex. "NHhh, MHHh-hNGg, y-y/n.. ah..♡ it was so go-good..." A chuckle slipped from your lips, he was complimenting you when he could barely keep his eyes open. Really, how adorable does he want to be? God, you wanted to fuck him so bad that another shiver ran down your spine. "Hey, sigma, do you have enough energy to-" Suddenly you stopped mid-track, eyes widening a little when you realized the situation.

The boy was half-asleep already, eyelids shut and unconscious. "Oh dear, such a weak lamb you are." You commented, but as expected, he didn't give a reaction. Was it really so good that he passed out right after cumming? Guess today isn't the day, fine, that only means you'll have to resume this another time. Doesn’t this mean… you finally have something to look forward to in life.

Another giggle escaped you when you remembered today was a work day. This means he’ll have to miss work because you fucked him too hard. Huh, that has a nice ring to it. Afterwards you leaned down to kiss his forehead, before whispering sickly sweet, “Fine by me, I'll devour you another time then, little lamb.”

Tags: @showtime-ss @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze

Nini!rant:

This was recommended to me by 🎀 anon! I never knew before that lambs go into heat every 16-17 days for about 30 hours. The usual behavours of a sheep/lamb in heat are: nudging, kicking, or pawing with the front legs, low stretching, and pushing. Who would have guessed sheep’s are such horny animals?

If I remember correctly, female lambs start becoming fertile at six - eight months, and male lambs at four - six months. But there were times were the little male lambs impregnated their mothers at the ‘ripe’ age of two months- damn

So, a sheep can give birth about once or twice a year, since they are pregnant for five to six months (I believe), and their fertility rate starts going down once they are seven years old.

[theelvishfiddler]

AN ARTIST'S GUIDE TO HANDS

No, sorry it's actually not an artist's guide to drawing hands. Those are just warmup studies (which I'll talk about in this post.)

This is a guide to Your Hands and how to take care of them when making art.

No one ever sits down and teaches artists how to take care of their hands. They didn’t even teach me this while I was in art college. This is just what I've learned myself through years of pain and scouring the internet for advice.

This is going to be a long one and geared towards illustrative traditional/digital/pen/pencil artists specifically, but artists of other mediums and crafts should take care of their hands too! Well, we all should take care of our bodies in general, but this is about hands.

(advice is below the read more)

First off I'm not a professional or anyone with actual medical advice. I'm just some guy with chronic hand pain who makes art. This advice is free for you to use or discard.

WARMUPS!

Ever sit down in the morning to draw and wonder why your art is so stiff and looks so much worse than what you were drawing last night? It's because you didn't warm up!

You know how for physical sports they all warmup and do stretches before getting into the actual sport. To prevent injuries and all that? Yeah, it's good to do that for art too.

One way to warmup is to just draw lines. Try to keep them as straight as you can. Going up and down and diagonal. Draw squares. Big squares. Small squares. Circles! You are warming up, keep it loose and relaxed! Basically just scribble away.

(examples. I usually keep going until there is no paper white left. This can double as practice for drawing straight lines without a ruler, which is a great skill to have when freehand city drawing.)

Before hopping right into drawing people you can try doing some quick gesture drawings. Line of Action has timed sessions with a large variety of clothed or nude models. I usually do the 30 min class as it has a nice balance of short and long timed poses. The point isn't to draw nice art, but to warm up. Try to get the basic form down, not the details. I find that doing a full class session can really help my drawings feel more loose and grounded in reality for the rest of the day.

Some examples I found in my folders. I suggest looking into what a line of action (not the site) is and giving it a try with some of the studies!

COOLDOWNS!

For sports it's to return your body back to your everyday baseline after a workout.

Example; you are working on a big project! A masterpiece! It's detailed and cool! You have been focusing on this for hours and drawing so intensely. But you need to stop working for the day.

A cooldown is for winding down out of the go go go mindset. Put away the big project and do a couple small doodles and sketches. You are relaxing your hand and letting it stretch out. Keep the sketches loose. Let the art happen slowly. Don't polish anything, that can happen another day. Just ease yourself out of drawing.

...

Cool! Now we get into the meat of this thing.

HAND PAIN

How to avoid it and how to manage it if you already have it.

I love you artists and creatives, I am begging you to please take care of your most important creative tools. I really don't want this to sound like scare tactics like "oooh you better do this or blah blah!" Nope. I just had to learn all this the hard way and I'm extremely passionate about it.

Take this advice or don’t ╮(ﾟ～ﾟ;)╭ I can't tell you what to do, I'm not your dad

Adjustments and Small Solutions

If you are feeling physical discomfort while drawing there are many different solutions to try! Here are some suggestions that may or may not work for you.

Hold your pencil more loosely. Stop gripping that thang so tightly!!! Relax that hand! They make these… squishy pen grip things... I think they are called Adaptive Pencil Grips or Adaptive Writing/Drawing Aids? They stop your hand from being all cramped up by making your drawing tool wider. It's going to take a bit of time to adjust to drawing with it, but it's worth it for those who hold pencils too tightly.

Don't press as heavily. For traditional art, if you find yourself pressing really hard to get darker lines try moving to a softer pencil. Most standard pencils are HB, the B pencils have softer graphite. Experiment until you find the right one for you. For Digital, adjust your pressure settings so you don't have to press as hard to get thicker lines. You should not be pressing so hard all the time, it wears out both your hand and your tablet! It takes a bit of time to adapt to pencil or pressure changes. Try doing some unimportant sketches, they don't have to be good. You are just training your hand and mind to adjust using less pressure.

Draw with your arm and not your wrist! It's small repetitive motions that cause the most strain. You probably hear this one a lot, what does it even mean? It means moving your arm with the motions of your line, and trying not to make too many tiny movements with your just your fingers or wrist. This one is hard! It takes time and conscious thought to change the habit. Tips? Work bigger. Zoom in more. Use bigger sheets of paper.

(Motions exaggerated for a clearer example)

Change the angle of your drawing surface. They make angled tablet holders, angled desks, angled desktop raisers. Experiment, find and angle that is comfortable and the one that causes the least pain. (It's also good to make sure you don't have to hold your head at an uncomfortable angle when drawing. Staring straight down or hunching over a paper flat on the table can cause pain!)

Compression Glove? Wrist brace/tensioners? Some folks use them and I've been thinking of getting one for years now. I can't give advice on this one, because I don't have experience with it. Look into it if you want!

Managing Pain

First things first.

IF YOUR HANDS START TO HURT WHILE YOU ARE DRAWING. STOP! Put the pencil/pen/paintbrush/whatever down. The art will still be there for you to continue tomorrow.

I know from experience that it's extremely hard to pull away when you are hyper focused on an art piece. It's hard to remember all sorts of basic needs like food or bathroom when hyper focused. But you Need to stop when you feel that pain. (Preferably even before the pain…)

Take Breaks! Let your hands rest when you can. Just like a machine, if you don't schedule maintenance, the machine will schedule maintenance for you. Often that means having to wait a few days for it to return to functional. Best to take a day off from heavy usage or take an occasional 30 min break throughout the day to let your hands rest.

Stretching is important! Full body stretches are good; your arms, shoulders, neck, and spine are all connected, but I'm specifically talking about HAND and wrist stretching. There are a lot of stretches and massages for carpal tunnel and arthritis out there. I find they work for hand pain in general. Move into and out of each stretch slowly. Do not push a stretch if it hurts!! Be gentle!!

I am not a qualified professional and I will not be giving out specific stretches (that is beyond my personal comfort level). There are other artists out there who have made helpful stretching info-graphics which are cool, but I will not be because i don't want to be responsible for someone accidentally hurting themself. Ask your doctor for stretches & advice or look some up on your own.

Don't feel bad about forgetting to stretch frequently! Of course it is good to do it regularly and frequently, but I would be a hypocrite if I said that I remember to stretch daily. Setting timers for stop and stretch sessions can work for some people, but also doing stretches whenever you remember is fine! If you are sitting on the toilet you can idly do some hand stretches. On the bus? Laying in bed? At the beach? Do a couple stretches! Even just once a week is better than… nonce a week.

Using Cold or Heat to treat pain. If you really overdid it, put your hands in some cold water or wrap a cloth around an ice pack and apply it to your hand. Cold works best for me, but warmth works for others. This is just pain reduction and reducing inflammation from overuse! This is not a permanent solution.

If your hand hurts a lot! Frequently! Talk to your doctor? Idk mine has never given real advice. Just gently poked my hand and told me there isn't much to be done about it :/ but there are really good doctors out there who will care and give helpful advice!

Again. IF IT HURTS TO CONTINUE DRAWING. STOP DRAWING! This is not a "no pain no gain" type situation. Drawing so much that you hurt yourself isn't noble, it's just… limiting yourself. You only get one set of hands. These things are very handy to have.

Other Advice

Things I couldn't figure out how to fit into the earlier sections.

Your other hand can't handle the strain! Lets say you hurt your drawing hand... the other hand is right there free to use for art. Right? Wrong. Your other hand can't keep up with the demand, it hasn't been trained to the same extent as your dominant hand, it does not have the built up muscle. If you want to use that hand for drawing you are going to have to use it s l o w l y and train it bit by bit over a long period of time. When I tore a tendon in my right hand I decided to just keep drawing with my left and I got Really Good at it. It only took like two months before my left hand hurt too much to move. Then I had 0 functioning hands to pull up my pants. Not fun!!

People who draw on phones. That is extremely impressive! I'm amazed by the things people can create on such a small space. But phone artists are the ones I see most frequently mentioning hand pain. please please please make sure you are taking breaks. Would a stylus work instead of using a finger?

Outside of Drawing. Sometimes it's things outside of drawing that are causing the pain. For me there are multiple sources, but I also have tiny baby hands. Holding a phone too long causes pain. The handheld mode for my Switch causes A Lot of pain. The way my hand rests while typing on my laptop hurts! Playing tense videogames for too long hurts! Find the source of your pain and make some changes. The same things will apply to most; take regular breaks, do some stretches, and find soft things to prop up or rest your arms on.

Change your Artstyle. This one is more of a last resort. You might have to change your art style if you are getting sharp pains every time you draw. I loved drawing tight clean lines and many small fancy details, but drawing like that left me in so much pain at the end of the day. In 2023 I had to take the better part of year off from illustrations just to learn how to sketch and draw more loosely. I had to learn how to be gentle. To stop gripping my pencil so tightly. Learn! Adapt! You might discover a new style that you love even more!

A lot of this stuff gets more complicated in a work setting where you have to draw fast and long in order to get paid. Things like reducing your workload can help, but that can be... financially rough. But outside of that, it’s ok to be a slow artist. Going full steam and hurting yourself is not worth it.

Aaaaaanyway, thats all folks. Today's rant brought to you by me! The guy with chronic hand pain who always forgets to stretch! The guy who got frustrated with a sketch yesterday and decided to push to keep drawing for just one more hour! The guy who woke up this morning and had to spend 2 hours massaging and stretching their hands. The guy who probably shouldn't have typed all of this out because ooww ow ouch

If your hands do hurt, it's going to be ok! You don't need to be a speed demon who draws all the time. It's ok to take your time and take frequent breaks. You are going to do great things! Just be gentle with yourself...

[luvkyu]

makeup ( hong seunghan )

seunghan needs help doing his makeup

content : 1k words, male reader, fluff, boyfriend!seunghan, gamer!reader, light kissing, reader calls sh baby

note : i needed a break from working on the mingyu fic so here's some fluff :) i also wrote this in second pov - i usually write in third but i think i might start using second more!

"help."

seunghan dropped a bag of makeup in front of you, a few items spilling out onto your desk.

"with?" you asked. he frowned when you didn't look up from the game on your computer. you seemed tense and focused in your dimly lit bedroom, wearing your expensive looking headset.

"you do makeup better than me," seunghan explained, nudging the bag toward you. "i'm meeting some people at a club tonight and i wanna look good."

"hey guys, i'll be right back," you spoke into the mic of your headset. seunghan smiled triumphantly. he could hear the faint groans and protests from your friends, but you paid them no mind and looked up at your boyfriend from your seat.

"what people?" you asked. you poked around in the bag a little before looking at seunghan again intently.

"eunseok and sohee. and they said there's some other people coming that i haven't met before."

you nodded and smiled at him. "that sounds fun."

seunghan nodded eagerly, "yeah, i'm excited!"

you liked seeing seunghan all happy and jittery. he didn't go out very often unless it was with you, so you enjoyed seeing him make more friends.

"let me go get my brushes."

seunghan nodded again, watching you walk off to the bathroom. he could still hear the voices of some of your friends talking through the headset that now laid on your desk. he grinned and put it on while taking a seat in your chair.

"hi guys!"

"is that seunghannie??"

"yes, hi!!" seunghan smiled widely at the sound of shotaro's voice. after almost four years of being with you, he'd grown to love your friends.

"thanks for taking y/n away from us!" anton joked sarcastically.

"sorry, what can i do? he's obsessed with me," seunghan replied.

"and who wouldn't be obsessed with you, baby?" you chimed in as you came back to the bedroom.

seunghan smiled at that response. his eyes widened a little when you were suddenly right in front him as he sat, your eyes gazing at him lovingly. you leaned down farther toward the mic while keeping your eyes on him.

"i'm actually just gonna log off, guys. i'll talk to you tomorrow," you spoke. the complaints and shouts of your friends were disregarded as you gently took the headset off of your boyfriend. you could practically hear his heart beat through his chest beneath you, making a tiny smirk curve on your lips. you finally broke eye contact to look at your computer instead. you closed the game and turned the system off completely.

"you didn't have to leave, it won't take long to do makeup," seunghan assured. he grabbed the sleeve of your shirt and tugged on it with a frown, but you shook your head.

"i was getting tired anyways."

"mm, okay.."

"so what do you want me to do?" you asked as you began setting up. you sat on the edge of your bed and pulled the chair he stole from you closer.

"i was thinking something kinda subtle-ish, but i like all the pretty details you do."

you smiled, "alright, i can do that then."

seunghan sat and watched you begin to lay a thin layer of foundation on his face. he felt like he was in a trance. he found you mesmerizing.

"why are you looking at me like that?" you asked quietly.

"sorry, i'm just.." seunghan felt himself blush a little. "you're really hot," he blurted out.

you stifled a laugh and continued to blend the makeup onto his skin.

"says you?" you counter back.

"shut up." seunghan smiled and looked down, a reflex of his when he felt like he needed to hide himself.

you gently took his chin and lifted it back up. "i need to see your face, baby."

seunghan nodded and closed his eyes. he let you continue your work for a while while he fidgeted with his hands in his lap. it was a nice, comfortable quiet in your bedroom. seunghan loved enjoying the little things like this with you.

when his eyes opened again, they were locked on you instantly. his gaze shifted to your lips numerous times, but you were paying too much attention to the makeup to notice. eventually your face inched closer to his, and he took the chance to place a quick kiss on your lips. you were a bit taken aback, but immediately broke into a smile.

"listen, are you here to make out or get your makeup done?"

seunghan laughed at your question. "is both an option?"

"no," you replied. "because once we start kissing too much then you will not be going out tonight.."

seunghan watched as you leaned away from him on purpose. he smiled mischievously and ran his hands along your thighs.

"well that's fine too! i don't have to go out tonight."

you shook your head and chuckled. "no, you haven't hung out with your friends in forever. go out and have fun."

he pouted dramatically. "you won't be worried about me meeting new guys?"

"nope."

"what?? i have so much rizz game, you should be worried."

you snickered at his bickering efforts before giving in and awarding him with one more kiss.

"i'm not worried because i trust you."

seunghan shut up at those words.

"okay, that's really sweet.." he muttered. "but what if i wanna stay home with you now?"

"tell you what," you said. "you go out and have a good time with your friends. drink, take stupid pictures, meet some new people. i'll even come pick you up if you really want to leave early. and then tomorrow, we can do whatever you want."

seunghan sighed. "promise?"

"i promise."

"fine."

"good," you replied happily. "all done now. go have fun, baby."

"thank you, y/n."

"of course. call me if you need anything, okay?"

seunghan nodded with a dorky smile. "and you call me if you start to miss me too much."

"oh, i will, hannie. don't worry."

seunghan grabbed his bag and pranced off to leave your shared apartment, but not before rushing back to kiss you one more time.