#thank you very much to those of you who helped me with this

[steveseddie]

apply directly to the forehead

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompt: alone | rating: t | wc: 997 | tags: hurt comfort, steve has migraines, eddie takes care of him, hand holding, forehead kisses read on ao3

No one notices when Steve slips out the front door. No one but Eddie, who tells Jonathan he’s going out for a smoke and follows him.

There are only woods around the Hopper-Byers cabin, and the only light comes from the Christmas lights hanging from the roof so it takes a moment for Eddie’s eyes to adjust to the near darkness. He sees Steve sitting on the steps with his head between his knees and taking slow, deep breaths. 

“Steve?” Eddie speaks softly, trying not to startle him but Steve still flinches. “You okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Steve mumbles, keeping his head down. 

Eddie sits next to him. “Wanna try again? That wasn’t very convincing.”

Steve groans but it’s not his ‘Eddie is being annoying’ groan, it’s a pained groan. 

“‘S just a headache, ‘m fine,” Steve insists but his voice sounds weak. 

“Look at me.” Eddie squeezes his knee. “Stevie, please, look at me.” 

Steve sighs but lifts his head. Eddie can’t help but wince at how he looks. His face is twisted into a grimace, his skin is paper-white and there are tears in his eyes. 

“Oh, Steve. It’s a migraine, isn’t it? A bad one?” He gently brushes some hair off Steve’s face. Steve gives a tiny nod. “When did it start?” 

“A few hours ago,” Steve says with a shuddery breath. “While shopping with Robin, all the lights, the music and the crowds–”

“Why didn’t you say something?” 

Steve shrugs, then winces. “Didn’t want to worry anyone.” 

“Of course not.” That’s why Steve still showed up to the Hopper-Byers Christmas party, knowing there would be loud music and even louder kids, and then forced himself to smile through his pain. Eddie sighs. “C’mon, I’m taking you home.” 

“No, Eds–” Steve protests weakly. “I can drive myself-”

Eddie huffs. “Steve, you can’t even keep your eyes open right now.”

“But the party–”

“–will carry on without us,” Eddie finishes, rolling his eyes. “Wait here, okay?” 

Steve sighs and nods, and Eddie squeezes his knee again before heading back inside. 

He finds Robin and tells her that Steve isn’t feeling well and he’s taking him home. 

“Do you want me to come?” She asks, worried.

“Nah, I got him,” Eddie says. Steve wouldn’t want someone else to leave the party early because of him. “Just tell Hopper I’ll pick up the van tomorrow, okay?” 

“Okay, thanks, Eddie,” she says with a quick hug. 

Outside, Eddie finds Steve leaning against the railing, looking like he’s about to keel over. 

“Alright, big boy. Let’s get you home,” he says, leading them to the Beemer.

“No van?” 

“Nope. You complain about how fucking loud my van is on a good day. Figured you wouldn’t appreciate it today of all days.”

Steve chuckles weakly. “Admit it, you just want an excuse to drive a cool car for once.” 

Eddie scoffs indignantly. “My van is plenty cool, Harrington.” 

“Uh huh.” 

He sticks his tongue out at Steve and starts the car. The drive to his house is quiet. Eddie turns the radio all the way off, Steve keeps his head against the window and his eyes closed, and Eddie tries his best not to jostle the car too much. 

He has to gently shake Steve’s shoulder once they arrive and then he follows him inside. 

He goes straight to his bedroom and collapses on the bed, taking his shoes off but leaving his jeans and his ugly Christmas sweater on. 

Eddie finds some sleeping clothes and tosses them his way. “Take those jeans off, Harrington.”

Steve huffs. “At least buy me dinner first, Munson,” he says, his hands working on his belt buckle. 

Eddie’s cheeks turn pink but with just the moonlight illuminating the room through the curtains, he doubts Steve can see it. “So that’s what it takes to get into Steve Harrington’s pants?”

“Usually,” Steve says, shoving his jeans off before sliding on sweatpants, keeping his movements slow to not make his headache worse. “But for a guy as hot as you, I can make an exception.”

Eddie chokes on his spit. Leave it to Steve to flirt while his head is waging a war against the rest of him.  

After changing out of his Christmas sweater, Steve falls back into bed, burrowing his face into his pillow with a groan. The mattress dips when Eddie sits next to him, his back against the headboard. Steve blinks one eye open. “You don’t have to stay, I’m–”

“-in no condition to be alone right now,” Eddie finishes, rolling his eyes.

“You should go back to the party. I didn’t mean to ruin your night–”

“Steve Harrington called me hot. Nothing could ruin my night after that,” he jokes even if there’s some truth to it. 

Steve groans– this time it is his ‘Eddie is being annoying’ groan. “I’m gonna regret saying that.” 

“Because you didn’t mean it or–”

“Oh, I meant it,” Steve says, rolling to his side and looking up at Eddie through half-lidded eyes that might not have anything to do with his migraine. “But now you can hold it against me.”

“It would be kind of hypocritical of me since I also find you hot,” Eddie says, playing with a rip in his jeans. 

Steve’s fingers find his, intertwining them. “If my head wasn’t about to explode I would suggest we do something about that.”

Eddie’s widen. “Something like–”

“Like kissing. Though I could be persuaded to do other things.”

“Jesus,” Eddie says laughing shakily. “Now my head feels like it might explode.”

“We can talk in the morning,” Steve says, shifting until he finds a comfortable position. 

“Thought you didn’t want me to stay,” Eddie teases.

“Said you didn’t have to stay, Eds. I always want you here.” 

Eddie’s stomach flutters. “Okay,” he says, sliding down until he’s lying next to Steve, their fingers still intertwined. 

“Thanks for taking care of me,” Steve whispers, half asleep already. 

“Anytime, sweetheart,” Eddie says softly, kissing Steve’s forehead. “Anytime.”

[recent-rose]

yknowwww there is something... deeply uncomfortable about the way mel never speaks directly to viktor in the 'build hextech weapons' scene. she really only speaks to jayce. plenty of people have pointed this out already but like the one scene they actually share a meaningful interaction and she treats him like he's beneath her. all this after jayce has emphasized how important viktor is, that hextech is theirs, together. she unequivocally ices him out, there's no other way to interpret this scene. the way it's shot too - from viktor's perspective, looking up at her, as though to reinforce the same belief in him. like he doesn't even bother expecting respect from her - or anyone from the upper echelon of piltover. he's fully accustomed to being dehumanized by everyone around him at this point. sometimes even by jayce, despite the trust they clearly have in each other.

then of course after this scene is viktor experimenting on himself. it's pretty clear that he has internalized his own dehumanization. crazy.

[kaminocasey]

Hey! I'm gonna take advantage of your charity and incredible talent and ask me some Silco stuff, and I will make it very personal.

Im just a sucker for angsty fluff, so I was thinking something in the lines of reader works either in some restaurant where Silco goes or actually works in the last drop. And she's just having a rough couple of days and Silco finds out about it and just wants to help (maybe he gets frustrated because of it all, and goes all Silco, you know what I mean? Damn I'm gonna shut up now). But we all know Silco is not the most affectionate man, or at least shows it in weird (?) ways. I feel like it would be better (?) if they didn't have a relationship yet. But I'll leave it to your brilliance to do as you please, I have complete trust in your skills.

But remember, you don't have to do this if you don't feel like it of course.

Anyway, to much information already. So good luck, love your work, that brain of yours and you in general ❤️💙💛🤍

PS- do not allow me to make more requests, I will make them long, weird and I'll keep remembering more stuff to add and the next thing you know it's a full blown fic 🤣

Take All Your Sins

A/N: Thank you so much for your request, love!!! I was excited to do this one!!! This is going to be a two parter or MORE for SURE. <3 ilysm thank you again for your trust in me!!!

Summary: You work in the Last Drop and very close to Vander. What happens if Silco comes along and ruins that?

Pairing: Silco x Reader

WC: 1.4k

Warnings: Angst, sweet Silco, protective Vander, alcohol

Taglist Form | Arcane Masterlist

“If you have something else to do, I can finish those.” You come into the doorway of the kitchen, nodding toward the dishes that he’s doing. 

“I got ‘em. Almost done.” The older man smiles at you.

A few years ago, Vander gave you a place to stay when he found you out on the streets and ever since then, you were basically inseparable. His kids were like your own. 

“Rough night, huh?” Vander asks as you lean in the doorway, keeping an eye on the place in case more patrons came in. 

The Last Drop is usually busy this time of night, especially on this day of the week. But it’s like a ghost town right now and you can’t seem to figure out why.

“Rough week.” You sigh, crossing your arms. 

“Do you need a couple days off?” Vander asks, genuinely.

He always made sure you were taken care of, which you appreciate, but sometimes it feels like he does too much for others, and never lets anyone do anything for him. You’re bound to change that though. His birthday is coming up and you’ve been saving up for something special that will be from you and the kids. 

“Nah, I’m-” You start but hear the door open.

“You got it?” Vander asks and you nod with a grin and turn around to greet the customer, letting the kitchen door swing shut.

“What can I get ya?” You smile at the older man, who makes you do a subtle double take.

“Whiskey. Neat, please.” He smiles. 

He’s got dark hair, a partially scarred face, one blue eye and the other dark black with an orange iris that makes him look incredibly menacing. He’s wearing an open, fancy peacoat with a buttoned vest and tie. Who the hell is this guy?

His eyes rake over you as you approach the bar where he sits. 

“Haven’t seen you before.” You smile, politely. 

“I don’t get out much.” He takes his coat off and sits it down on the stool next to him. “I… work a lot.” 

His voice is silky and you can’t help but want to hear him say more. 

“What do you do?” You ask as you pour his drink. 

“I own my own business.” He tells you and takes the drink when you slide it to him. 

The way he says it, makes you think he doesn’t want to answer anymore questions about himself. 

“What’s your name?” He asks softly. 

You tell him and he takes a sip, keeping his blue eye on you. You smile softly, unsure of what to say.

“Pretty name.” He tells you, after he finishes off his drink. 

You go to pour him another but he puts his hand over his drink and shakes his head.

“Thanks.” You put the bottle back down and then take the empty glass from him, sitting it in the sink. “What’s yours?” 

“Silco. Do you like working here?” He asks, not missing a beat. 

You nod. “Yeah, I do.” 

“And you like Vander?” 

You nod. “Who doesn’t?” 

He chuckles, glancing around subtly. “Who doesn’t, indeed?”

“What are you doing after work?” He asks. 

Oh… of course. He thinks you’re going to put out- 

“I’m not trying to fuck you.” He tells you, as if he can read your mind while he stands up and puts his coat back on.

“You’re not?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say no if you wanted to, but that’s not why I asked.” He smirks.

You both stare at each other for a moment. His eyes fall to your lips before coming back up to your eyes.

“So… the real reason is?” You cross your arms.

“I think you’re beautiful and I’ve not been on a proper date in years.” Silco shrugs, placing a hand on the back of the barstool. 

You go warm in the face before looking down at his slender fingers and immediately can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like inside-

“I’ll be by at 11.” He tells you, snapping your thoughts back to the present as he places a few cogs onto the bar. 

“Um. Alright.” You nod, giving a kind smile. 

He stares at you for another short moment before giving you a smile back and then leaving. Just as the door closes, Vander walks out and sees you staring at the door, breaking you out of the trance that Silco seemed to have put you in.

“Everything okay?” He asks, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You look up at him, smiling a little dreamily. It’s not something you’re used to. Normally, when customers ask you out, you brush them off and pay them no mind. But Silco… he managed to get you to pay attention. 

“All good. Um… I have a date after work.” You go warm in the face at the word ‘date’. 

It’s not like you don’t date… you do… just not consistently. The last date you went on was a year ago. It didn’t go well so you decided to just focus on work.

“With the customer that just came in? Who is he?” Vander’s eyebrows raise in surprise, knowing that you haven’t gone out with someone in a long time.

“Just… some guy.” You shrug, starting to wipe down the bar. 

Vander chuckles. “Alright. Keep your secrets. I was young once, too.”

You laugh with him, your thoughts immediately going back to Silco’s unmatching eyes and the way they softened at the sight of you. 

“You can go get ready if you want. I can finish here.” Vander smirks. 

You roll your eyes. “Thanks. I owe you.” 

“Nah. Get outta here.” He nods toward the door that leads to the upstairs. 

You pat him on the shoulder as you walk past him, heading upstairs to go shower. You look at the clock and see that it reads 9:30. That should give you plenty of time to get ready. You don’t take particularly long showers. 

As you turn on the water, you climb into the shower, letting the water flow over your body as you stand there for a moment before starting to wash your body and hair. You still can’t stop thinking about the older man. He had to be about Vander’s age, right? You wonder if they know each other. Perhaps after you get to know Silco a little more, you’ll introduce them. 

After your shower, you dry your hair the best you can and then settle on a dress that you’d saved up forever to buy just because. What better excuse to wear it than on a date with an extremely attractive, slightly intimidating, man? 

At ten til 11, you make your way back down to the bar. Vander and Benzo both let out a whistle at the sight of you.

“Don’t you clean up nice?” Vander grins. 

You shrug, going warm in the face from the attention. “I guess.” 

You sit up on the bar stool next to Benzo. You glance over at the door and then back at Vander. 

“Do you want something to loosen your nerves?” Vander teases. 

“I’m alright, thanks.” You roll your eyes, amused.

“Who’s this hot date with?” Benzo nudges you with his elbow. 

You go warm in the face all over again, thinking about Silco. “Just some older guy… he’ll be here any minute.” 

They accept that answer and continue their conversation from before about business stuff that you don’t really mind yourself with. You pretty much just show up and do your job and do exactly what Vander tells you to do and then go back upstairs and sleep. And then repeat. 

The door opens moments later, and the three of you look up to find Silco walking in. You can’t help but give him a sweet smile. He smirks at you and pauses by the door.

“Are you ready-” He starts.

“Silco.” Vander growls. 

“Hello, Vander.” Silco’s eyes fall past you to the man behind you. “Lovely establishment you have here.”

You turn to Vander, confused. “You know each other?”

“Oh yes, we do.” Silco walks toward you, wrapping an arm around your lower back, looking you up and down. “You look beautiful, darling.” 

“She’s not going anywhere with you.” Vander comes around the bar and starts toward Silco but Benzo gets up quickly from the stool and stops him. 

You look between Silco and Vander, still confused.

“I think that’s for her to decide.” Silco smirks up at Vander who stands almost a foot above him.

You turn to Vander, with furrowed brows. This man is the one who gave you life again, the man who is like a father to you. The man you owe your life to. If he says you shouldn’t go… then shouldn’t you listen to him?

[threestarsinline]

The Word of Your Body

Jason Todd x reader one shot

Summary: Jason comes back from patrol, but something is keeping his mind still somewhere out there. You're always there to bring him back and let him know he's safe. At home. With you.

Word Count: 5.8K

Category: Angst-ish because Jason is going through it but fluff because reader is there to comfort him

Warnings: Jason having a bad time

Author’s note: I know, I know, three fics in one year?? Who am I? Jsjksks truly an achivement for me, very happy and very proud hehe. Thank you for sticking with me and supporting my fics, I love you all. That said, enjoy!

It’s really incredible how much one can know about a person just by their body. From the way they move, to how they carry themselves, to the small gestures that they make in their day to day that reflect who they are, to the little telltale signs of how they’re feeling. A smile, a wrinkle between the eyebrows, a twitch of their hand.

And not just the movements of the body but you can also learn a lot from the singularities and marks that one has on their skin. A child with a scrape on their knee from running too fast on the playground. A chef with hundreds of small cuts on their hands from mastering the use of a knife. A ballet dancer with wounded toes. A painter with watercolors under their nails. A piano player with soft and delicate hands.

You can have a lot of information about a person just by observing them, knowing how they move and how their body reacts to things. A flinch from fear at the threat of danger. A shiver at the gentle touch of a lover.

That’s how you immediately know that something’s wrong when Jason returns from patrol. And you don’t even need to see him.

You’re reading in bed when you hear him come in. Always waiting up for him whenever you can. It isn’t difficult for you since you’ve always preferred staying up late rather than waking up early. Unless you have something to do early the next morning, you always wait for him to come home, to come to you, liking to see him as soon as he returns to make sure that he’s made it back to you safe and sound.

You either read or watch something on TV while you wait despite how many times he’s told you that you don’t have to wait up for him, that you should sleep. And every time you shake your head and say, “And go to sleep without you next to me? Never.” And every time Jason rolls his eyes at your stubbornness while his heart thrums in his chest at how much he loves you and then gently cups your face in his hands and kisses you softly.

And even when you can’t help it and you do have to go to sleep earlier or exhaustion wins over you and brings you to the depths of slumber without warning, Jason always approaches you quietly so as to not disturb you and kisses your forehead to let you know he’s home. If you’re on the couch he brings you to bed, and if you’re already in bed, he settles the covers better over you, just the way you like.

And those times you always smile in your sleepy state and unless he’s injured and needs your help patching him up, you follow semi consciously the sound of his footsteps around the apartment. The sound of the shower as he steps inside to rinse away the Gotham night clinging to him, the sound of rustling sheets as he finally climbs into bed with you, and are finally lulled back to sleep when warmth surrounds you as he brings you into his arms.

You’re no metahuman but you’ve developed a sixth sense for everything regarding Jason Todd. You would be able to easily spot him in a crowd of thousands after having just faintly heard his voice in the distance even if he didn’t have that white tuft of hair singling him out, all your senses zeroed in on him. It’s like your body and mind are always tuned to find him, like tweaking the dial of the car radio to find your favorite station and finding it on the very first try.

You have a master’s degree on Jason Todd and all of his movements, small gestures and twitch of expressions that he doesn’t even realize that he’s doing, you know it all by heart. You know that when the right side of his smirk pulls slightly at his cheek as he’s admiring you doing something mundane, he’s going to kiss you. You know that when he flexes his hands at his sides something is bothering him. You know that he’s going to laugh loudly and wholeheartedly when the sound makes his shoulders shake slightly before making its way up his throat, as if he’s trying to contain it but the laugh is so strong and spontaneous that he can’t fight it. And you know he’s in pain from a bruise on his ribs when he shifts his weight on his feet and a grimace appears on his face for just a second.

That’s how you know that something’s up when you hear him climb through your living room window and his steps don’t sound as if he’s trying to not make too much noise in order to not wake you up in case that you’re asleep, but as if he's trying to make himself as small as possible. It’s a subtle difference but it’s there. You know it because you’ve encountered it before.

Your worry only increases when in the next four seconds that it takes you to find your bookmark between the sheets and place it in your book, you don’t hear him move at all. He doesn’t come find you and he doesn’t call your name.

When you exit the bedroom you find him in the middle of the living room. He just stands there, shoulders hunched, red helmet gripped tightly in hand, head looking down, his hair falling over his forehead.

Something has happened. You don’t know what it is but your first worry right now is making sure that he’s okay. If he heard you come into the room he doesn’t show it. You take a couple of small yet purposeful steps towards him, making sure that they can be heard so that you can alert him of your presence, not wanting to startle him.

But nothing. He stays frozen.

You take a deep breath as your heart clenches at seeing him like this. It’s bad. Whatever has happened is really, really bad and it seems like Jason’s mind is still there. He’s not fully present with you right now.

But you know what you have to do. You have to bring him back here with you. Help him to separate himself, your loving, wonderful, and kind Jason from the horrors that Red Hood has to face every day.

You take another step in his direction. “Jason?” you whisper softly.

He doesn’t react. But he doesn’t flinch either. That’s good. He knows he’s somewhere safe. But he still needs to distance himself from whatever was out there. You finally come to stand in front of him, still not touching him. “Jay?” you try again while assessing him over, trying to pinpoint if he’s injured.

Again, nothing. But the hair that hangs over his forehead moves ever so subtly, almost in an imperceptible way, but you catch it nonetheless. The hair moved because he tilted his head in the slightest of ways. He’s listening to you. Knows that you’re there. You sigh in relief when you see his grip on the helmet lessen too. Good signs.

“I’m going to touch you, okay?”

He releases a deep breath, slowly allowing himself to let go, the tension that his shoulders held not as tight as before. Leaving his body slightly, leaving him at your mercy. He’s saying, Okay. Satisfied at that and at finding that he doesn’t seem to have any major injuries, you nod. Then, you gently and very slowly take his face in your hands to look at him. His eyes acknowledge you for a split second but then his emerald gaze returns to the floor, and you feel a crack forming in your heart at the utter sadness, desperation, and despair that you find in it.

Still, you feel him melt into your touch at his cheeks. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re home,” you offer softly.

He closes his eyes in response, reveling in the comfort that you bring him. Next, you take the helmet from his hand and set it on the kitchen counter before moving to the holster with his guns and very carefully unfastening its belt and leaving it all on the table. Helping him that way to step out of the Red Hood persona and everything that claws into it.

“Let’s take a shower,” you say, wanting to keep him informed of your every move. You take his hand and pull him with you towards the bathroom. He lets you guide him, fully trusting you but still not reacting to anything much.

You don’t ask him what’s happened. You don’t need to know. There are things that Jason doesn’t tell you about patrol. And you have no problem with it, knowing that he wants to separate those two parts of his life. But no matter what it is, you always let him know that he can come to you about them, that you’ll listen. That you’ll always be there for him. Always.

The other few times that you have seen him come home like this, slouched over and not talking much, you later learn, either by context from what you hear on the news and the streets, or by Jason directly telling you about it when he needs to let go and finally feels able share it, that the people he was after got away, that someone got hurt, or something like that.

But this time… This time something’s different. You have never seen him as bad as this. At least not from coming back from patrol. And it worries you. It worries you a lot and it kills you that you can’t do anything more than just be there for him. But it seems that that’s all that he needs right now so you settle on focusing on him.

From the guiltiness that hangs over him, tensing his shoulders and keeping his eyes down, and the distress and sorrow that you see in his gaze, you have a feeling that something terrible happened. Something that he couldn’t prevent. He couldn’t save somebody.

You can almost see how he’s replaying it in his mind, the shame and regret swirling in his head until they stiff all of his body. You need to reassure him, make him see how it isn’t his fault, how he did everything he could, and how he gave his all but how sometimes, despite how much you fight it and try to stop it, Gotham doesn’t let you escape the rot that runs through its streets.

Once you two reach the bathroom, you flick on the mirror light above the sink, casting you two in a soft golden light, not wanting to overwhelm him with the overhead one and its strong intensity.

You stand in front of him and help him take off his jacket before taking his hands in yours. He still doesn’t look at you as you take off his gloves. Once they’re gone, you take a moment to examine his hands, and you let out a sigh of relief at seeing that his knuckles aren’t wounded. Your thumbs softly trace the marred skin, small scars and irregular healing adorning his hands. You can’t help but bring them to your lips and press a long kiss to them, closing your eyes, trying to will away all the mental scars that they hold too just by the touch of your lips.

His hands, that could break bones but also mend and heal the most broken parts of yourself.

Despite what those hands either curled into fists or holding a gun could mean to other people, they’re precious to you. And one of the many wonderful parts of him. To you, they mean soft caresses while you’re laying in bed. They mean warmth when winter comes and he rubs them against your arms. They mean comfort, and safety, as he holds your sobbing body when you break down.

Their roughness both from handling dangerous weapons and using a pan to make you dinner. Jason Todd has a duality that still amazes you to this day, but you love all the multitudes that he contains all the same.

You then begin to remove his equipment. The chest armor, the knee pads, and any other protective gear, putting it all on the pile that you started with his jacket and gloves on top of the laundry basket to sort out later. Jason doesn’t move, only doing the movement necessary to help you undress him, like lifting his feet so that you can slip his boots off after having unlaced them.

But still, his gaze remains lost.

You set the boots to the side and get back up to your feet again. You walk around him to get the tub started for a bath, adding some oils and soap. You pass by him to exit the bathroom and grab some comfortable clothes for him after. Most of the time, unless it’s very cold, he normally sleeps shirtless with some sweatpants or even just his underwear during the hotter months, but you know that tonight he needs to feel covered, enveloped, protected. You begin to plan in your mind. A comfortable old shirt and sweatpants will do.

However, before you can even reach the doorframe and begin your walk to the bedroom, a hand wraps gently around your wrist. You whip back around, both surprised and glad at the same time that Jason has finally interacted with you on his own accord, this being the first contact with the outside world initiated by him. Another good sign.

You see Jason’s eyes fixed on your wrist before lifting his gaze to lock with yours.

Stay.

Your gaze softens and you take another step closer to him, almost being chest to chest. You lift your free hand to caress his cheek. “Of course,” you whisper. “I’m just going to grab you some clothes, okay? It’ll be five seconds.”

As you assure him, without realizing it, your thumb traces his cheek in the exact same motion that he has begun to rub soft circles into your wrist. He nods slowly.

“Okay,” you say and Jason releases his hold on you just enough for you to quickly slip to the bedroom. And just like you promised, you’re back just as fast, closing the door behind you so that the steam from the tub can warm up the room, starting to fog up the mirror too, and setting the clothes on the counter. And Jason still hasn’t moved an inch.

You stand in front of him again and delicately grab the hem of his shirt before looking up at him. And you don’t need words to understand each other. Can I?

Jason’s chin tips slightly. Yeah.

You slowly lift the shirt up his body and he raises his arms to help you. Once off, you leave the shirt with the rest of his discarded clothes. Then, with your hands in front of you so that Jason can see what you’re doing and anticipate your movements, you rest them on his shoulders and then gently slide them down his chest, feeling his well-worked muscles and creases from the scars on his skin.

Jason lets out a deep breath, the skin to skin contact grounding him. His eyes never leave you now, following every single one of your actions. And not because he needs to see what you’re doing in order to prepare himself, not anymore, but because you’re the only thing that seems real right now. The only thing tethering him to Earth.

Because to him, you’re his center of gravity. No matter how far he went, both in distance and into the depths of his mind, he will always come back to you.

You lean forward and press a tender kiss between his pecs. Jason shudders, feeling warmth, comfort, and light blooming from the spot that you kissed and extending through all of his body, from his torso to the ends of his limbs. Your touch like the first rays of sunshine after the coldest and longest night of the year in a frozen landscape, melting the frost and bringing everything back to life. Chasing away the Gotham chill clinging to his bones and the rigidness that holds him hostage. Replacing it all with you, just you. The warmth and safety that you provide.

Jason thinks that he wasn’t actually brought back to life all those years ago, just went through some kind of purgatory on Earth again until he reached his very own personal heaven. You. And he still has no idea what he did to deserve it.

Then you help him out of his pants until he’s standing in his underwear in front of you. His back is hunched, making him lean towards you but this time it’s not because of all the negative thoughts hanging over him, but because of the pull that you have over him, your gravity drawing him in.

You round him again to check the temperature of the water in the tub, though this time, Jason rotates his body to follow you, like a sunflower chasing the sun. Satisfied with both the water’s temperature and quantity, you close the tap.

“You want me to get in with you?” you ask, not minding that you have already showered for the day. Jason nods.

You nod to yourself and peel the shirt of his that you wear to sleep off your body, leaving you just like him, wearing only your lower underwear. And even with how exposed you two are, you’re not vulnerable. The air in the room thick not only with humidity but with the intimacy between you two. A kind that can only come from honest love and a complete feeling of trust.

But the air isn’t humming with electricity like in the other situations in which you two find yourselves with as little clothing as right now. Instead, the air is lulling, like a soft and warm wave gently rocking your body when you lay with your eyes closed in the sea. Comforting and lightening.

You discard both your final pieces of clothing and step into the tub, holding a hand out to Jason so that he can step in in front of you. When he joins you, you two finally sink your bodies in the warm and bubble covered water. You lean back at the edge of the tub with Jason between your legs, his back pressed to your chest, his head resting on your shoulder and your arms draped over his chest, all of you surrounding him, enveloping him, protecting him.

Even though the tub is relatively big, considering Jason’s huge frame, it wasn’t exactly meant for two, so you’re a mess of tangled limbs and warm bodies, but you can already feel Jason relaxing against you. You kiss the crown of his head and he finally closes his eyes.

You two lay there for a while, enjoying the hot water and letting it wash your worries away, the scent from the lavender oil that you used hanging in the air, calming your minds. You’re glad to see how the bath is helping Jason to let go of the events of the night, the remaining tension that clung to his body stripped by the water, and the memories from the night relegated to another place as you see the crease on his brows disappear as you draw gentle caresses on his chest.

You grab the shampoo bottle and start to wash Jason’s hair, working the roots and massaging his scalp to help him relax even further. Soon, hundreds of tiny white bubbles replace the sight of his black locks. You work on his hair longer than necessary but you can see how much it’s helping him, his breathing becoming even more deeper and slower. The only sign that he hasn’t fallen asleep, the hand that settles on your knee at his side.

You then rinse his hair, his white streak majestically poking between the black again. With a sponge you start to wash his body where you can reach, his shoulders, his upper arms and torso. When you’re done you maneuver yourself to sit in front of him, facing each other now. As you start to wash the rest of his arms, you see in his eyes that his thoughts are beginning to slip away, the events of the night calling him again. But you’re not having it. Nothing is taking Jason away from you tonight. Your goal, making him focus on you and only you.

“Can I tell you a story?” you say softly, your voice and the soft splash of water at the slightest movement the only sounds in the room.

Jason just shrugs his shoulders slightly. You nod as you focus on passing the sponge over his hands.

“It’s the story of a boy and a girl. About a wonderful boy and a girl who couldn’t believe her luck,” you begin. “One freezing winter afternoon, the girl slipped on some ice and the guy caught her by the waist, saving her from a pretty hurtful fate, though she almost brought him down with her. She apologized profusely as her cheeks warmed not only because of the embarrassment but because the man who’d caught her was the most handsome one she’d ever seen. But in her haste to step back from the stranger to try and save some embarrassment, she slipped on the ice again and he saved her once again.”

Jason can’t help the small smile that pulls at his lips. Because the story that you’re telling isn’t just any story. It’s your story. The story of how you met.

He wonders how you always knew exactly what to say. Hell, you could just be reading the grocery list out loud and he’d think that you deserved a Nobel Prize in Literature just because it came from you.

The sight of Jason’s smile pulls your lips into one too, and it warms your heart just like his worried gaze had done to your cheeks that very first day.

Both of you remember that day as clear as day, though neither of you could have ever anticipated how important it would be, how it had changed the course of your lives. You can still perfectly recall how he had cleared his throat awkwardly after catching you for the second time and his You alright, miss? How breathy his voice had sounded, as if something had taken his breath away, his heavy lower Gotham accent that had both surprised you and stirred something within you, and how vivid the green in his eyes was.

Just as bright as it is now as you continue the story. The shine that was always there whenever he looked at you.

“She had been pretty awkward, and she still can't believe how she’d managed to pull the kindest and hottest man in all of Gotham, the world even.” Jason snorts and you throw him a look, telling him not to question you because if there is one universal truth in this world—apart from the fact that a single man in possession of good fortune, must be in want of a wife—is that Jason Todd is the kindest and most gorgeous man that you have ever met.

“Though later he would reveal that he had found her nothing but endearing, despite what she might say about her awkwardness,” you continue.

Something about you already drawing him in. But just as quick as it all had happened, the moment passed by, and you two went your separate ways. Though not for long, because some time later, another afternoon, you were walking home when a running figure turned the corner and clashed into you. As you took a couple steps back to stabilize yourself you realized that you were head to head with the Red Hood. Which was strange since the sun was still setting and he had never been seen other than at night.

Jason hadn't planned on starting patrol so early but Tim had tipped him that some guys that he was after were having a meet up and Jason decided to give them a little surprise. Though that plan flew out the metaphorical window in the room of his mind as soon as he saw you again.

He had tried to forget the encounter in which he had saved the most beautiful girl that he’d ever seen from tumbling to the ground, and just as it seemed like he was about to succeed (not really, but at least manage to push the encounter to the back of his mind instead of your soft voice plaguing his every waking moment), he ran into you.

He stared at you bewildered, not believing that it was you, the sweet girl from the ice, and he was at a loss for words.

“Sorry,” you had said and at the sound of your voice he finally came out of his daze and shook his head.

“No need, it was my fault." He tilted his head. “You okay, miss?” You nodded, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine at how similar he had sounded to your ice savior, his voice ingrained in your mind. And as much as Jason would have loved to stay there with you for a bit longer and hopefully learn your name, he had to get going, so he apologized again and you watched as he left.

And that should have been it. But somehow, it seemed like the universe had other ideas, crossing your paths later once again. And then one thing led to another and here you were now, sharing laundry and rent. Who would have thought? Certainly not you, when those strong arms caught you and you had no idea that they would become the place where you would feel the safest in.

Home.

Jason keeps listening as you finish recalling the start of your relationship. “And so their adventure together began. The clumsy girl from the ice and the boy that despite his rough exterior, had the gentlest, bravest, most selfless and most beautiful heart that she’d ever come to know.”

You finish the story with an enamored smile on your lips, the sweet memories fueling even more your love for him. A love and reassurance that you hope you have been able to convey in the story.

Jason sits in front of you with a small smile of his own, his heart beating golden light through his body, the love that you put there. His body finally relaxed and at peace, your hands holding his.

But then the smile falls from your lips as you see his eyes glass over. And even before he starts to tremble you pull him into you, wrapping your arms around him, his face hidden in your neck, his own arms snaking around you, holding you tight. And as the first tremors shake his shoulders, the first tears start to fall.

And you hold him through it. Taking everything that he needs to let go of in stride.

Because without the armor that he had built to keep his emotions at bay, swimming in the guilt and regret, once he finally relaxes, accepts that he’s safe and allows himself to be vulnerable, the dam breaks. And all the feelings come tumbling over.

The impotence. The sadness. The failure.

He’s not outright sobbing, the feelings working slowly but surely through him one by one. His body trembles slightly, a few tears falling onto your shoulder and a couple of sniffles here and there.

“I- I couldn’t-” He shakes his head and keeps silent once again. The first words that he’s said since he came home. The cracks in his broken voice forming ones in your heart. It stings more than salt in an open wound. You hold him as tight as you can. It’s like he needs to exteriorize these feelings and his body is allowing him to, but his voice can’t even go further than repeating that phrase over and over again. You shush him gently, letting him know that he doesn’t need to force himself to say anything. You’re here for him and that’s all that matters.

“It’s okay. You did everything you could, Jason. You’re a good man,” you whisper, trying to soothe the torture that he’s submitting himself to. But he shakes his head even more vehemently at your reassuring words and beautiful thoughts of him. Right now they don’t make any sense to him with how much he failed tonight. He’s not brave. He’s not kind. And he certainly isn’t good. He doesn’t know how you can say all of those things about him when he couldn’t-

You feel his internal monologue with how the time between his trembles, tears, and sniffles stretches. He’s lost in his head again. Thinking instead of feeling.

“Jason, hey, no. Stop,” you whisper gently but firmly. You unwind your arms from around him and take his head in your hands, holding his forehead to yours, looking into his eyes though his gaze avoids you.

“You are good. You’re kind, stubborn, funny, brave, determined, sarcastic, gentle, and loving. You’re all of those things. And sometimes things just go wrong and you can’t do anything to prevent them. You didn’t make any mistakes tonight, okay?” You don’t actually think that he can do anything wrong but you keep that to yourself. “Not being able to prevent something bad doesn’t make you any less of a good person.”

You can see how the thoughts race in his eyes.

“Jason. Look at me.” He finally locks eyes with you. “You know I’m not good at lying so listen to me when I say this. Whatever happened tonight is not your fault. You can cry. You should cry. You have to let go of everything that is storming inside you. What I’m not letting you do is convince yourself that you’re not good enough. Because you are, you hear me? You are.” You can’t help the tears that begin to prick at the corners of your eyes.

“I love you and I’m always going to be here for you for whatever you need, okay?” As a tear slips from your eye, Jason nods and hides in your neck again, letting his tears flow again. Letting himself feel. You envelop him in your arms once again.

“Okay,” he mutters against your skin. You sigh in relief and start to trace long shapes on his back.

You two stay there for a while, until both of you stop crying and his breathing returns to normal. And then you stay a little longer, just holding each other, Jason letting himself get lost in your soft skin and soothing scent, finally, finally, letting the night go. At least for now.

And then even a little longer, until the water turns lukewarm and a chill runs through your bodies.

“Want to go to bed?” you ask softly, threading your fingers through his hair, brushing away the damp strands falling on his forehead.

He nods slowly, lifting his head from your neck. “Thank you,” he whispers. You shake your head and he knows what you mean, You don’t have to thank me, I’d do anything for you.

“Come on,” you say and get up, offering him your hands. He takes them and gets up as well. You let the tub drain and step out of it, Jason following you. You quickly wrap Jason in a towel and then do the same with yourself. When you're done, he takes one of your hands gently and, while looking deep into your eyes, he kisses your knuckles. Thank you.

This time your gaze softens and you rest your hand against his heart. Of course.

After drying off you put your sleeping clothes back on and when you see Jason with the briefs that you brought already on and reaching towards the sweatpants, you gently swat his hand away. Let me take care of you.

He raises his hands in surrender and takes a step away from his clothes. Yes, ma’am.

“Are you hurt anywhere? Do you need me to patch you up?” He doesn’t seem to have any injury but you want to make sure. He shakes his head. You arch an eyebrow. It wouldn’t be the first time that he’s tried to lie to you about that. He nods, extending his arms so that you can examine him, showing how he doesn’t have any wounds. You wait for a beat before nodding.

You help him get dressed and all the while his fond gaze follows you. He’s sure that the best feeling in the world is being taken care of by you. That sunshine feeling blooming again in his chest. You’re so bright and he’s just so- No. He’s promised that he isn’t going to think like that anymore. At least not more tonight.

He follows your directions as you make him sit on the toilet and watches as you comb his hair. But then he can’t help but close his eyes at how relaxed he feels under your care. When you’re done you kiss his forehead and he hums as you run your hand through his hair. When he opens his eyes again, you’re extending a hand to him and he takes it without hesitation.

You turn off the bathroom light and guide him to the bedroom. You climb into bed, your side always the furthest one from the door, no matter where you are, at home, at the manor, or traveling, Jason makes sure of that, and you open your arms, inviting him into your embrace. Jason gets into bed, laying half on top of you, and wraps his arms around your waist as he nuzzles into your neck, your legs tangled. You drape the covers over you both, practically burying yourselves under them and wrap your arms around him, protecting him from anything that could hurt him. Your very own cocoon.

He gives your waist a slight squeeze. I love you. You kiss his hair in return, hugging him even tighter.

And as you hold him tight, the two of you know that what happened tonight out there would still haunt Jason despite all your reassurances. But just as you know that, you also know that you’re always going to be there for him. To love him and care for him. So, for tonight, Jason lets himself be lulled to sleep by the sound of your heart. Each rhythmic thump thump telling him, I got you, you’re okay, I love you, over and over again.

Just like for you with him, your arms the place where he feels safest in. Home.

Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

[yuurei20]

how muscle is the boy and who the most buff because i think silver gym clothes is lying

Hello hello! Thank you so much for this question! I have been hoping to talk about this for so long ⚔️

There is something special about the school uniform and gym clothes cards 👀

Summary 1) Sprites do not always visually represent what is actually happening in the game 2) Yana does not have full control over what can appear as sprites 3) Yana illustrated the gym clothes and school uniform cards from start to finish by herself!

Details/Sources 1) There is sometimes a disconnect between what the sprites are doing and what is actually happening in the stories, as the limits of the medium mean that they can only portray so much.

We will be told via dialogue that what is actually happening is different from what we're seeing on screen, which is where the "novel" part of "visual novel" has to do some heavy lifting.

(above: We are told that Idia is riding Ortho, Jack has tanned and Kalim is wearing glasses, without anything represented visually.)

This is also true of Silver being unusually well-muscled, with characters referencing such repeatedly! (especially in Book 7, for spoiler-reasons that cannot be shared on this blog)

(Ortho: "Silver is also incredibly built!")

In a vignette Silver explains he was able to beat a man in an arm-wrestling contest who had successfully beaten several "burly" members of Savanaclaw:

"All of Ruggie's burly friends had tried, but each lost within seconds. At first the owner went easy on me. Worried he would hurt me, he said. But once he realized I was no pushover, he stopped holding back...It was no easy feat, but all their encouragement helped me eke out a victory."

As for how Silver can possibly be so well-muscled, he explains it is from life with Lilia:

"I've never really struggled with anything involving physical fitness...my daily life back home was training enough. Drawing river water, chopping firewood...Chasing around the animals who lived nearby must have helped strengthen my legs as well...once I stalled while climbing a sheer cliff, and (Lilia) climbed right up beside me to show me how it should be done."

2) In a tweet posted on 2020/5/12 Yana talks about submitting her idea for Crowley to be wearing a vacation outfit in Book 4, despite expecting it to be rejected.

So it seems that she does not have complete control over how the sprites look: she designs the characters but is maybe not doing the game development work of physically implementing them, and there are others who can approve of or reject her ideas based on in-game limitations.

Was a canon-accurate Silver sprite maybe one of those rejections?

Effort was even made to give Silver muscle in the 2nd anniversary PV, so it does seem to be an important point.

3) We do not know too many details about the team that is helping Yana with card illustrations but we know they have been there from the beginning, with the recently released English-version of the first visual book (called "The official art book" in English) providing translations of Yana's notes to the colorists for the ceremonial robes and labwear art.

(Above: hand-written notes seen on Kalim's labwear and ceremonial robes base art)

She also references a graphic artist in her 2020 interview for the Magical Archives:

"As for the illustrations, this was my first time having my original drawings cleaned up by a graphic artist. I am a very rough draftsman by nature, and I make overall corrections before a piece is complete. No matter how careful I am in my original drawings, sometimes details get confused, so whenever I receive a draft back from the graphic artist, I become a useless original artist who is constantly going back to say, ‘I am so sorry, but can you please make these corrections?’" - Toboso Yana (Magical Archives game guide)

But the gym clothes and school uniforms (the original batch of R cards) were different: Yana says she did them all by herself from start to finish, as they were going to be most people's first introductions to the characters.

Disney Twisted-Wonderland has been released today.  ・Character design ・Main scenario creation ・Card illustration (all rarities / including finishing for the R cards) ・Supervision of personal scenarios (writing several as well) I handled everything above. I hope you enjoy it! - Toboso Yana (Twitter, 2020/5/8)

I felt that the initial R school uniforms and sportswear cards are special, as they are likely to be the first introductions to these characters, so I was in charge of them all. I am grateful to have been trusted with them. - Toboso Yana (Twitter, 2020/4/13)

So there we are! 🥳

If anything we can maybe consider the base card art for the gym clothes and school uniforms as more "canon" than the sprite designs of those same characters, even though the sprites are what we're used to seeing, as card art is not being forced to change the characters' appearances in order to fit the limitations of Live 2D sprites ⚔️ Maybe!

(The sprites have this same issue with height! At 156cm Epel maybe only comes up to Malleus' elbows? But in the game Epel is made taller while Malleus is made shorter, in order to fit his horns in the screen.)

[trainnster]

A Message for our Dearest Friends ✨

[[ Before anything, I do give a TRIGGER WARNING for those who may not want to read about anymore of Nirmal's escapades, and also who may not want to look into discussions of z!on!sm, harrassment of children, and just general nasty ass behavior from Karen Supreme over here. If you do read though, I very much thank you! ]]

So y'know unfortunately I was not added to The List™. Really sad, might just piss and die from it all. HOWEVER, I care about this fandom and I'm always for being petty, so I guess I'll take the bait and send a nice little message to our dearest friend @gordontheengineswifenirmal and her little bestie boo @drackara for trying to fuck with MY friends!! 😁

FIRST OFF, I am not nor will I ever take shit from some bitch who named herself after that fugly ass grey cat from Garfield, so no I am not scared of you and actually I'm SO happy you chose a fandom I happen to be in to try and be a little prick to so I can go into some of the shit you've done!! Like omg thank you SO much for this opportunity, girl! 😊✨

SECOND, you are old enough to be the parent to about 60% of this fandom yet lack the simple maturity basics that even a 5 year old has, so like idk but maybe you should look into going back to school and doing something with your life, since it's obvious you're just rotting in your friend's basement and don't have any sort of diploma or certificate to your name teehee!! 😘

THIRD, going on with how grossly uneducated you are at your crusty dusty ass age, let me remind you that nobody, I mean NOBODY- Actually, here, lemme add the definition so you can get it:

NOBODY [pronoun] / ˈnoʊ.bɑː.di / : not anyone

(SOURCE: Cambridge Dictionary)

Yeah, so that? Yeah, nobody owes you shit over actual families who are going through one of the worst mass humanitarian disasters we've seen in modern history! There's this other thing called "independence", yeah, and THAT means that we ALLL get to choose where our money goes! Isn't that so great? Yeah so that means… People get to choose if they want to monetarily support you!!! 🥳 Isn't that just so lovely?

And y'know, maybe it's just me, but I dunno if people would want to use their independence over their money to send it to a random 42 year old over helping people escape literal genocide. Doesn't sound so great does it? Yeah, maybe it's kinda like people have hearts and understand that genocide is far worse than some random 42 year old who spews z!onist rhetoric, disrespects sex work, and demands monetary gain from literal kids who she not only calls slurs but also actively exposes to NSFW content on her little confessions blog!

Y'know… maybe THAAAT'S why people don't send you money! Yeahhh it's cuz you're a basement-dwelling prehistoric z!onist toad who actively threatens the safety of literal children in online spaces!! I got it figured out!! And y'know, I got you figured all out too, darlin', because I sure as hell know this ain't your first rodeo and this post sure as hell ain't mine!

And y'know I could just keep going on and on, but considering you're probably red in the face and sobbing like the infant-minded subhuman creature you are over lil ol me simply going over just one single little atrocity you've committed on this fandom, I think I'll spare you from holding you to the mirror for ALL that!

Anyways, I do hope this all finds you just SO well, and maybe you can understand just a teensy bit why people y'know… Don't like you! Yeah, so uh hope your holidays go great, hope the new year treats you better than how you've treated ANY of us, and I do hope that poor single braincell gets some friends in the incoming year because he sure is real lonely in that hollow head of your's! Anyways buh-bye hon, hope you have a fantastic day 🥰

[kaiipivara]

‼️ AMAZING NEWS ‼️

Woke up this morning to see we achieved Mike’s surgery goal :’)

I just wanted to take the time to thank every single one of you that donated, commissioned me or even just reblogged my post to spread it further.

It truly means the world to me to see the kindness strangers on the internet still have despite how fucked the world can be at times, thank you all so fucking much for helping me be able to finally help my very old baby boy 🫂💗

i’ll post a few updates under #mikeupdate for those who want to see how he’s doing !! i’ll see everyone for updates on the 9th of January on his first consultation

Here’s some silly pics of him as a bonus 🌟

A very merry christmas to all of you, you guys truly have given us the best christmas present of all time 🎄💗

ps: my commissions & kofi will still be open in case anyone is still interested :)

‼️EMERGENCY COMMS ‼️

Hi there 👋

See this cutie dog with a diaper right here? His name is Mike and he’s 16yrs old !! I’ve had him since i was 5 (i’m 21) and he currently needs surgery but sadly my family cannot afford it :( So i’ve decided to open commissions to try and gain enough money for it !!

His surgery in total will cost around R$1.8k but since $1USD = 6x my currency at the moment, the total cost of his surgery + meds will be around $300 USD

Because of this I’m doing chibi art starting at $5 !! i also have a separate section in case people want more elaborate drawings, but truly any amount will help me out a ton

❀ Commission Form

❀ Kofi

Im extremely grateful for anyone that is willing to help me help my baby boy, he means the world to me and he’s been my whole life ever since i was 5.

Thank you to anyone that can help, even it means just a quick reblog and happy holidays 🫶🎄

[nightmare-of-homophobes]

You Know You're My Favourite - Avis Amberg X gp!reader

Words: 5,4k (more or less).

Summary: Avis searches for her favourite girl after a fight.

Warnings: porn without plot; NSFW; sub!Avis, Dom!reader; oral (both receiving); penetration (Avis receiving); swearing; use of titles; weird/unconventional power play; light praise kink; breeding kink; mommy kink; rough sex; flirts a lot with BDSM; tits play; implied previous conversations of boundaries; implied internal homophobia; implied unilateral love.

Tag list (those who commented or reblogged on the tag post): @alittlewitchyone @emilynissangtr @greek-freak101 @live-laugh-love-lupone @multixfan @thoroughly--confused @likealayka @thegoddamnfeels @kenzie-floops @amethyst-bitch @acciosoftbroom @missquints @mrsines

Special thanks to the lovely @live-laugh-love-lupone who kindly beta read this for me <3

English isn't my native language, so bare me! I didn't watch more than three episodes of Hollywood and hadn't written gp for a while, so I'm sorry if Avis is too out of character and if the sex is awkward 🥲. This story is based on an ask I received some time ago (I hope this finds you, anon!). I wanted to try something different by mixing the request - sub!Avis - with what I took from the character and from the fanfics I’ve read about her - the power play and titles.

Hope you enjoy it! Xoxo!

(Also, I wrote a good part of this while listening to “Red Wine Supernova” and “Good Luck, Babe!”, kind of mixing the songs to set the vibes to the characters.)

***

It was late and your shift was almost ending. It had been a boring day with no clients for you so you got pretty occupied with pumping gas and cleaning cars all afternoon. 

You were just about to go to the bathroom to change yourself out of your uniform when you heard a car approaching. You got irritated by that, but that slipped off your mind as soon as you recognized the car.

Putting on your best smile, you approached it.

– What a lovely surprise… – you said leaning into the window to look at the ginger woman. You didn't miss how she seemed distressed. – How can I help you, Mrs. Amberg?

– You're taking me to Dreamland.. – she demanded, her tone letting you know she wasn't in the mood for your playfulness.

You nodded quietly.

– I just need to let Ernie know you're taking me out. – you said and went back into the gas stations to do it, returning as quick as you could and entering the car.

She drove off the station in silence, the only sounds between you being the roar of the motor and the background sounds that driving through Hollywood involved. You could practically feel the tension irradiating from her body, so you put a hand on her thigh, slowly drawing patterns close to her knee - not wanting to drive her attention to you at all, but to calm her down a little. It seemed to work since she relaxed a bit.

– Tough day, mama? – you dared to break the silence.

– I don't want to talk about it. – she said, leaving no room for other attempts. 

– What do you want to talk about, then? 

She sighed loudly and you felt bad for pushing her, but she answered anyway:

– What about your career? Have you got any offers lately?

You hummed in confirmation. For some reason, Avis always liked to learn about her lovers and she loved to discover how you wanted to be a professional photographer. You deep down wished she would, one day, pose to you.

– Yeah, I'm covering an event this weekend. – you told her excitedly.

– That's great, what is it? – you told her the name of the event, but it wasn't one from her social circle so she didn't know it. – … But I know you'll do amazing, baby, you always do.

She met your eyes for the first time in the night, a small proud smile on her lips. That made your chest warm. It was good to know you had someone to make proud.

– You're just saying it because you know I'm a sucker for being told I'm doing a good job. – you accused her, earning a chuckle from her.

– You caught me. 

You fell into a very much lighter silence as she drove into the night. You weren't recognising the route she was taking, so you imagined it was somewhere she hadn't taken you yet. When she parked in front of an expensive looking hotel, you were sure you hadn't been there before. Not that she didn't take you to fine places, she did, but that was… Too much, in your opinion.

The parking valets opened the doors of the car for you both and you jumped out of it, feeling a little bit conscious of your clothes. Maybe you should've made Avis wait for you to change it when you were still in the gas station but now it was too late to regret.

Letting the ginger woman lead the way inside the hotel and into an elevator, you were able to relax again when the doors closed and you started to go up to your floor. But your relaxed state didn’t last too long since Avis was needier that night.

Being pressed against one of the walls of the elevator, your lips crashed against her red painted ones, her mouth as demanding as she always liked to portray herself. The kiss was messy and harsh, mirroring Avis mood and making you know exactly how she needed to be treated that night.

Holding onto her waist, you pulled her body flushed against yours, your tongue darting out to try its way into her mouth. As soon as she let it slip past her lips, you started to slowly dismantle her demanding attitude. Avis usually liked to have control over everything happening in her encounters, needing to guide what and how things would go. She tried to do it with you in your first encounters, but she was quick to discover that when it came to you, you simply wouldn't bend over anyone’s power without fighting for it - and that she honestly enjoyed having someone to tell her what to do sometimes.

You could still taste the wine on her tongue, which was another clear sign that something distressful happened and she really needed you to make her forget whatever it was that upset her. You could already piece together what probably happened: one more fight with the powerful Mr. Amberg. You didn't even know the man or had a hint of how he looked, but you despised him the same way. How could a man be married to a woman like Avis and not try to satisfy her?

The elevator’s door rang while opening and you quickly disentangled ourselves. She laughed at you.

– It's fine, doll. I made sure to rent a room on a floor that was empty. – she said, already leaving the elevator.

You laughed at yourself and followed her down the corridor. Your eyes didn't resist falling to her ass, admiring how rounded it was as you watched how her hips swayed as she walked. You couldn't wait to put your hands on it.

As she unlocked the door and pulled you inside the room, you met her halfway, crashing your lips together again as you closed the door with your foot before slamming her against it.

– Hmm, did you miss me that much? – she asked, putting her arms around your neck.

You hid your face on her neck, kissing and sucking it softly.

– No… I'm actually had been very busy fucking some pussies around. – you teased her, knowing how she could get jealous when at your work.

It worked because you heard how she grumply groaned and turned her face to the other side when you tried to kiss her on the cheek.

– Oh, mama, you let me get into your head so easily. – you poked her side. – You know you're my favourite client.

Though you meant those words, they left you with a bitter taste on the tongue. You had a strict rule of trying to not get attached to your regular clients, but sometimes you would get yourself wondering how it would be to be something else than just a prostitute to Avis. Something more.

But of course you would never speak those desires out loud. No. She was married and you were both women. And, in the end, she only saw you as a passing fun. Someone she could get distracted with when her true life got tough.

– You're distracted today… – she called your attention, making you snap out of your thoughts. She frowned. – What's in your head?

You let a peck on her lips, diverting her attention.

– Nothing at all. – you brushed off the topic. Letting your hands fall to her butt, you gave it a playful squeeze. – Now… What about going to prepare yourself for me? – you asked against her lips before leaning to her ear again. – I'm so hungry, mama…

You heard how her breath hitched and felt how her hands buried themselves into your hair. Leaning back to look at her, you saw how her eyes had darkened. You always loved to watch her eyes. Especially when she was under you trying so hard to keep them open while cumming around your cock.

Leaving your embrace, Avis went to the double doors in one of the walls of the living room (that you only noticed once she approached because you were too busy paying attention to her before), opened it and disappeared inside of it. The bed was probably inside those doors. You heard another one being opened before the shower was turned on.

She always liked to dress up on encounters like that, but she liked to be extra clean and use her fanciest gowns and lingerie for you. She was sold for compliments and you suspected that was a thing for her.

Trying to busy yourself, you poured down two drinks, swallowing yours in one go.

You hadn't to wait too long before you heard heels clicking on the floor and arms flew around you to embrace your body tightly.

– Do you want a drink? – you asked softly, enjoying how she cupped your breasts and kissed the back of your neck.

– Right now I just want to drink whatever comes out of you. – she answered, sending shivers down your spine.

– I can arrange that. – turning on her arms, you started to undo your belt, feeling how she was getting impatient. 

Drinking the shot of whiskey you had poured for her, you swallowed a little before bringing your lips closer to hers. She quickly accepted it, opening her mouth so you could spill the drink into it. Of course that wasn't what she meant, but she wouldn't deny you.

Kissing down her cheek and her jaw, you buried your face back on her neck, your hands found the knot of her robe to untie it. She was smelling so good you wanted to wrap yourself around her and never leave.

– I like this colour on you… – you muttered against her skin, hearing her whimper softly. – But unfortunately I need this off.

Letting it slide off her shoulders, it was your turn to lose your breath.

– Did you like it, baby? – she asked with a sultry smile and tone, faking innocence. She knew you liked it. Actually, she could feel just how much you liked it.

There, standing confidently in front of you, she was wearing a red corset that hugged her curves perfectly, but that wasn’t all. Your eyes ranked up her legs, admiring the black long socks attached to something underneath the corset - probably a, also black, garter belt. Finally, your eyes met what you considered to be the cherry on top: lace black panties that left so little for your imagination.

You ran your fingers over the details of the corset, your mind already picturing how it would be to take it out of her later. The rest would stay in place, it wouldn’t bother you.

– I loved it. – you said, playing with her garters. – And because of it I’ll let you pick what we’re doing first. What do you want baby to do? – you asked, pulling her hips closer so one of your knees was placed between her legs.

Under your intent gaze, Avis squirmed. She enjoyed your attention so much. Starting to undo the buttons of your white shirt, she asked:

– You mentioned being hungry, right? 

You laughed and helped her to get yourself undressed. Once you got rid of your shirt, tie and shorts, your hands returned to her hips, starting to push her in the direction of the couch, you made her sit down. She made mention of untying the garters but you pulled her hands off it harshly.

– None of it, I didn't ask you to take it off. – you reprimanded her while kneeling on the floor.

– I don't need your permission… – she said under her breath and lifted her hips towards you.

One of your eyebrows shot up as you looked at her. So she was naughty tonight? How bad.

– Are you looking to be punished, mama? – you asked severely. – You know how long I can keep you on edge.

She seemed to fight her pride and own words before looking away and muttering:

– I'm sorry.

– That's better. – you tapped the side of her thigh, satisfied. – Now where were we…

You spread her legs, starting to kiss the insides of her legs and massaging her feet while doing it. She loved receiving a good massage. 

– Yes… – she sighed, opening her legs even more, if it was possible.

Her skin was smelling so sweet and her socks brushing against your bare skin were so soft that you were feeling yourself getting hard faster than usual. Avis would certainly drive you mad anyday.

– Baby, please… – she whined, her hips bucking in the air, asking to be touched. – Please, Mama's so hot…

Complying with her requests, you brought your lips higher, your fingers cleverly finding her panties and pushing them to the side. You licked from her entrance to her clit, feeling how she clenched and how the foot you were still holding curled into your hand.

Bringing your hands to her hips, you pulled her further to the edge of the couch, placing her legs over your shoulders.

– Look at this, mama.  – you breathed against her core, letting soft kisses all over her mound and playfully sucking at her bundle of nerves, feeling her squirm and moan shakily. – Your pink hole is so wet for me already, I bet I could slip inside right now without any trouble… – you fully slid your index finger into her fluffy folds as if to prove your point to her. – See?

– God… – she groaned and you could feel how her hands were clutching at the couch on your sides. She could feel your finger searching for her weak spot, scratching her walls sweetly in its path.

You were steadily letting kitten licks on her clit, your finger caressing her point over and over again, reducing her to a pathetic moaning mess. When you started to suck her, her hands flew to your head, holding you impossibly closer.

– Fuck! Yes! – she rolled her hips against your mouth, starting to ride your face in chase of her orgasm.

You let her do it while adding another finger inside her, scissoring and opening her so you could replace it with your tongue later. 

– Hmm… Mama, you’re taking me so well. – you complimented her, your voice sending vibrations against her clit, making her grind harder against you. 

Her moans were louder with each thrust of your fingers, every rub of her clit against your tongue making her legs twitch and her hole clench around your fingers. You knew she was so close and you were loving it. Satisfied with the stretching, you finally slipped your tongue inside her, tasting her flavor straight from the source. 

Her grip on your hair tightened, her thighs creating a fluffy - and strong - cage as they closed around your head. A loud, obscene moan left her lips, her whole body losing control as she reached her orgasm.

– Ah, baby! Fuck! Fuck! – she cried out.

Her walls were tightening so hard around your tongue it was practically expelling you from inside her and you couldn’t help but whimper at that. Staying still, you let her use your mouth to ride her orgasm.

You caressed her thighs all the while, soothing her and waiting for her to calm down. It didn’t take her long before you could finally free yourself from her legs, resting your head on her thigh as you had done before. You looked up at her with what you knew were your loving eyes.

– Everything alright, mama? – you asked as she panted, her chest rising and falling heavily. 

All you received from her was a soft groan, her eyes shut tightly. Getting up from the floor, you sat on her lap, drawing her attention back to you. 

– I’m fine. – she said dreamingly, opening her eyes to meet yours. 

– That’s good… – you said and leaned to kiss her.

She welcomed your mouth with her tongue, more than willing to taste herself on yours, moaning at it.

– Can you taste how sweet you are, mama? – you mumbled against her lips, making sure to press your tongue down at hers, wanting her to commit her own taste to her memory.

The kiss was heated and messy and you didn’t even notice when you started to roll your hips on hers, brushing your covered erection against her corset, missing the feeling of her chubby belly. You liked the corset, it was pretty, but you liked even more to have her breasts and tummy on display.

– Stand up, let me take this thing from you. – you panted against her lips, getting off her lap to sit beside her.

She did it and you pulled her down on your lap, moaning at the feeling of her ass hugging your dick perfectly. She rubbed her ass over you playfully, earning a quick slap on her right buttcheek, which made her quiet down.

Starting to open her corset, you took the opportunity to also undo her complex updo. She usually didn’t let you do it, since it took time to put her hair back in place, but you didn’t think she was planning going anywhere or returning home that night. As you finished with the corset and brushed her hair with your fingers, admiring its redness, you made no effort to resist reaching around her body and taking her big boobies into your hands, loving their weight and softness. The sigh she let out told you how relieved she was to get rid of the corset.

– Feeling better, Mama? – you asked while playing with her breasts, squeezing them and rubbing her nipples to get them hard.

She only hummed in answer, her ass not staying still on your lap, teasing you as much as you were teasing her. You kissed your way to the back of her neck, biting down hard on the skin there, making her squirm and whimper above you, her hands reaching up to hold yours in place. You pinched her nipples and flicked it on your fingers, making her breath get elaborated again.

– Baby, please! – she finally gave up, understanding you wouldn’t take any action if she didn’t beg. – Please, I need you… – she tried to push one of your hands down to her pussy but you prevented her from doing so. – Please, I need you inside me so fucking bad!

Reaching to her neck instead of between her legs, you held it and squeezed it weakly, pulling her towards you until her head was on your shoulder.

– You know what to do if you need my cock that much. – you said against her ear, enjoying how her desperate eyes found yours. Such beautiful eyes.

You smirk down at her and bite her ear softly.

Sliding down from your lap, she got on her knees before you, her hands fumbling with your tight underwear while letting mouth-opened kisses on your erection through the cloth. She looked so sexy doing that.

– Aren’t you forgetting anything, mama? – you asked and she looked up at you confused. You gestured for her to keep eye contact and she nodded.

Letting her take control of that small moment, you leaned back on the couch helping her to take off your underwear by raising your hips. She bit her lips at the sight of your cock on display.

– See how excited I get everytime you come to see me, mama? – you asked, running a finger on her lower lip before slipping it inside her mouth, watching how she accepted it, sucking it into her mouth.

Bringing her closer by her chin, you let her replace your fingers with your cock, sighing heavily at the velvety and warm sensation of her mouth around you.

– That's it, mama… – you hold her head, not leading her, just letting it rest there. – Take it all inside.

She obeyed, bit by bit taking all your length into her mouth, not having any trouble. The idea of her being so used to doing that kind of turned you on. Between the two of you, you might have been the prostitute, but she was definitely the slut.

You moaned as she bobbed her head up and down a few times before returning to your head, sliding her tongue against your slit.

– Fuck, mama... – you bite your lower lip, your free hand going to your tits to play with them. – You know exactly what to do to make me lose control.

You groaned when she sucked the head, her cheeks hollowing as she did and her eyes searching your reactions through heavy lids and battling of lashes. That woman would certainly kill you one day.

Letting her work her magic on your cock, you took that moment to just enjoy the pleasure she was giving you, focusing on your sensations as soft groans and moans kept falling from your lips, your chest heavy and heart racing as you watched how she switched between sucking your cock and teasing the slit at the tip or sucking your balls while jerking you, all the while never breaking eye contact.

– You're doing so fucking good… – you panted as your release started building, your dick throbbing into her mouth. You almost came when, in one go, she put all your length deep inside her mouth, the tip reaching the back of her throat. – Fuck!

You held her head in place, closing your eyes at the intensity of the wave of pleasure that teased you, unaware of how she also closed her eyes, moaning around you and sending another wave through you. She always found it so hot when you were rough with her and she could feel her arousal sliding down her thighs, her pussy aching to be filled again as she made her best to not gag around you. You released your grip on her.

– Keep going, I'm so close. – you gasped.

With that, she doubled her efforts, your hips bucking to meet her meet her mouth halfway, your cock brushing the back of her throat at every damn thrust. A strain of swears were falling from your lips and, when you finally couldn't help it anymore, your hand hooked into her hair and you harshly set the rhythm you wanted, making her choke sometimes while supporting herself on your thighs, trying to relax her jaw the most as she let you fuck her mouth. She knew her throat would be on fire the next day but she didn't care. She would never stop you from doing what you wanted to her. 

She was exactly where she wanted, receiving exactly what she needed.

With a final rough thrust up, you held her still, cock buried impossibly deep inside her as she fought the urge to push you off her so she could breathe. When she couldn't take it anymore, she patted your thighs and you let her go while growling through your orgasm, your seed spilling from her throat to her face since she couldn't hold your dick down her throat for so long. 

Both of you were breathing heavily for totally different reasons.

– Sorry. – you apologized as soon as you got enough air to do it.

Her head was resting on your hip, her hair in all directions. Her face was flushed and painted with your cum while her lips were swollen and her cheeks had stains of tears. She was a fucking mess.

– It's okay, doll… – she muttered raspy, her chest rising and falling in quick puffs as she still was trying to calm herself down. – You know I like it.

Gentler than you were before, you ran your hand through her hair, putting it a bit back in place, not because you were finished with her, but because you wanted to bring her some tenderness after such roughness. You waited until she was ready to keep going.

Watching her standing up, you stood too, catching her lips into your in a soft, caring kiss.

– You know we can stop at any moment, right? – you reminded her in a whisper.

– I want to continue. – she reassured you. You nodded.

Taking her by the hand, you led her to those double doors, entering it to find your way to the bed. It was very large and fit the luxury of the place.

– Get on the bed. I'm gonna get another drink. – you said while caressing her back.

As she moved to do so, you returned to the other room, pouring you a drink while you still felt cloudy from your previous orgasm. Something strong like whisky would definitely help, you thought to yourself. Yet, it wasn't the whisky at all that snapped you from your current state of mind, but the vision of your tie lying in a corner of the room. An idea popping into your head.

Drinking the liquid in one go, you walked over and picked up the tie, returning to Avis immediately.

You weren't waiting to find her on her fours on the bed, waiting for you with her ass high in the air and face buried in the sheets. All the while she was touching herself, two fingers deep inside her drenched pussy.

That pissed you off.

– I didn't say you could touch yourself! – you exclaimed as you reached over and pulled her fingers out of her harshly. –You’re really looking for that punishment, lady!

You turned her over so you could pin her down, you face hovering over hers as you angrily asked:

–Now choose… – you lifted the tie. – Hands or eyes?

She didn't miss a beat before answering:

– Eyes. – she could bear not being able to see, but being restrained was a torture for her.

You grimaced at her answer, an unsatisfied expression on your face. 

– You don't deserve it. – you said. – Mama has been acting very bad.

You flipped her over again, using your weight to hold her still as she fought you and your decision to tie her hands instead. As you finished, you leaned and growled on her ear: 

– You will learn how to please your baby!

Getting off her, you helped her to return to her previous position: ass on the air and face buried in the sheets. Aligning your dick with her entrance, you entered at once, knowing that she was more than prepared after so much teasing. She moaned unashamed at that, ass moving to meet your hips halfway.

– Yesss… – the word lingered on her tongue, turning into a hissing as you slapped her ass once more.

Settling a steady rhythm of thrusts, you watched, hypnotized, how her pussy took your cock so well, as it was designed especially for you. A soft and warm place for your dick to rest and empty itself.

Oh, that was another great idea. You would adore to cum inside Avis again and again until she was filled and carrying your seed deep inside her.

Keeping to fuck her in that slow and steady rhythm, you knew exactly what you were doing to her: making her lose her mind again. It wouldn't take long until she was pathetically begging again, her brain melting from having what she wanted from the start but it not being enough to satisfy her.

And you were right, it didn't take long.

Once she realised you had no intention in changing your pace, she cried out muffled:

– Baby, please… – she tried to fuck herself against you, but reaceived another harsh slap. – Mama is so sorry, please… She won't do that again… Please, please, please… Mama will do anything baby wants her to do, promise… – her whimpers keep going, but you already have heard the words you wanted to hear so you leaned into her again, one hand getting tangled in her hair again.

– Anything, mama? – you asked and, to provoke her, you gave a particularly rough thrust. Just the way she liked.

– Yes! Fuck, yes, please… – she cried.

Your free hand winding its way through her body until it finds her clit, rubbing it in tight circles, enjoying how she gasped and moaned even louder.

– Do you know what I would love, mama? – you kept whispering against her ear. – To have you carrying my babies… – a soft “yes” came as an answer and you closed your eyes. – Wouldn't it be lovely, mama? Me buried deep inside you? Feeling you so good? Spilling all my seed so mama could take it in her perfect body for me? It would make me so happy, mama… 

Hearing her confirm every question you made her was an otherworldly experience, but the words that set you wild were those who came from her lips in sequence of that:

– Please, love, give me your babies… I'll carry your babies, please…

Pushing her face against the mattress harder and holding onto her tied hands, you started slamming into her, the sounds of your skins meeting each other extremely obscene. You were panting and whimpering, lost in Avis body as you finally gave her what she was so pleased to beg for, her moans fully turning into screams of pleasure now, her hands twitching and trying desperately to free themselves from the tie while her toes curled and she bit the sheets to muffle her sounds.

Every thrust of yours sent her higher on her from the force you were using to fuck her, almost as if trying to forge your bodies together, so it was a good thing you were keeping a good hold on her, otherwise her head would be banging against the headboard.

When she started clenching painfully around your cock, you knew she was close to her orgasm. You were too. Flipping your positions, you laid on bed and pulled her above you, untying her hands so she could support herself to ride you. 

– Yes! Yes! Gimme your babies, yes! – she kept exclaiming as she bounced hard up and down the entirety of your length, seeming to want as bad as you to bury your cock deep inside her. – Fuck, yes, mama feels so good! Mama is gonna cum!

You helped her to bounce, supporting her hips and meeting them with yours halfway as well, wanting to make her cum again. 

Sitting down on the bed, you held her hips down, burying yourself inside her while helping her to grind on you, one of your hands searching for her clit to send her over the edge. You were feeling goosebumps all over your body and it was becoming harder to fight your orgasm.

– Cum for me, mama, please. – you asked and, lowering your head to her chest, you caught one of her lips into your feverish mouth, sucking it hungrily.

That was enough and, with her orgasm finally washing over her, she stopped her movements, her entire body tensing up.  Being squeezed like that, you didn't even try to resist your own orgasm, spilling yourself inside her body as a guttural moan escaped from the back of your throat.

Both of you stayed still, practically breathing each other's air as you panted with your foreheads pressed together. For a long moment, none of you dared to move, both sensible to touch and still feeling the aftershocks of your blissful orgasms. Finally, you turned her again on the bed and slipped out of her, both of you moaning from the loss of the sensation.

You watched how your seed spilled out of her mistreated hole once you were out. You weren't preoccupied with coming inside her. She was past her fertile age and you were infertile, so there was no risk at all.

Laying beside her, you welcomed her into your arms.

– Feeling better? – asked softly, running your fingers through her hair and kissing the top of her head, your eyes were feeling so heavy.

– Much better. – she said and yawned.

– Go to sleep. – you told her, knowing that all would end very soon.

Soon she would have to return to her husband and you to your clients. Soon she would pretend that all those nights with you were nothing more than usual fun, even though both of you know she had stopped seeking other prostitutes after finding you. Stopped seeking men.

And you, well, soon you would have to pretend that you didn't let her affect you. That you didn't let yourself hope that, one day, she would need more than just sex. And, certainly, that you didn't caught yourself thinking of her when fucking others or wishing she would accept what the nature of your encounters were saying about her.

– Good night, doll. – she said sleepily.

– Good night, Avis. – you answered, kissing her head once again.

You knew she would have already left you when you woke up the next morning.

.

.

.

.

Comments are very appreciated because I'm a sucker for validation!

[morningsharksworld]

Funny idea of reader just saying "I'm going to gnaw on you like a BONE if you keep flirting with me, big boy." Like imagine the reaction Hazard would have

Keep Talking

Hazard x Reader [REQUEST]

A/N: The way that i immediately RAN to my computer to write this because I JUST LOVE THIS LMAO?? Big ol thank you to you my dear anon for being my third ask!

You and Hazard were walking side by side through the quiet, dimly lit streets. He was doing his usual thing—flirting and throwing out ridiculous comments—but tonight, his charm wasn’t quite landing the same way.

“So, I’ve been thinkin’…” Hazard said with that smooth Scottish drawl of his. “If ye were a dessert, ye’d be a fine piece o’ cake. I’m talkin’ one o’ those fancy cakes, the kind wi’ gold flakes and everything.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help a little smirk. Typical Hazard—no subtlety, no boundaries.

“Oh really?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’m a cake? You want to devour me or something?”

Hazard’s grin spread across his face. "Aye, sweet pea. Who wouldn’t want to sink their teeth into somethin’ as sweet as ye?”

You shook your head in disbelief but smiled, nonetheless. "Alright, enough of this cake talk. Keep flirting like that, and I swear, I’ll gnaw on you like a BONE.”

Hazard froze for a moment, blinking at you. He tilted his head, the usual confidence faltering for just a second as he processed your words.

“A bone?” He repeated, clearly trying not to burst out laughing. “So, ye want to sink yer teeth into me, aye? What kinda bone are we talkin’ about here? Like… a chicken wing, or…?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, deadpan. "Oh, I dunno, Hazard. Somethin’ big and meaty… maybe somethin’ you wouldn’t be able to get away from.”

Hazard dramatically clutched his chest, clearly in over-the-top mock horror. "Och, nae… please" he said, trying to keep his voice steady but failing miserably. "The thought o’ ye gnawin’ on me is almost too much for me heart to bear." He paused, then leaned in a bit, his face serious but the twinkle in his eyes betraying him. "I’m just so delicious, aren’t I?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, his over-the-top reaction only making you more entertained.

“You’re ridiculous” you said with a grin, trying to hide how much you were enjoying this. “But honestly, you can’t keep flirting like that without consequences.”

Hazard laughed heartily, clearly enjoying the game. “Oh, I’m all for consequences” he said, his voice a little too casual. But then, as if realizing what he’d just said, he cleared his throat, the smile on his face suddenly a bit more nervous. “I mean—ye know—if ye wanna bite me, I’d nae say no…”

You raised an eyebrow, not letting him off the hook. "Oh, you sure about that?" you teased. "Because I’m not sure you can handle it."

Hazard laughed again, a little louder this time, but you could see the blush creeping onto his cheeks. He tried to keep his usual swagger, but his attempt at hiding his flustered state was not very subtle. “Aye, I can handle it… I can handle anythin’ ye throw at me. Easily.”

But there was a slight waver in his voice that told you he was starting to lose the battle. His grin faltered, and he took a step back, pretending to compose himself, but his ears were definitely a shade redder than before.

“Aye, well… if ye do start bitin’, I reckon I’ll enjoy it more than I should” he added, trying to recover. “But don’t get too bite-y on me, eh? I’ve got a reputation to protect, ye ken?”

You smirked, enjoying the fact that you’d finally flustered him. “Reputation, huh? Well, I guess I’ll just have to find out if you’re as tough as you say, won’t I?”

Hazard’s confident swagger returned in full force, though there was still that faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Oh, I’m tough, alright” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “Ye won’t find anyone tougher than me.”

You couldn’t resist. “We’ll see about that” you teased, leaning in slightly, just to see how flustered you could make him.

For a moment, Hazard looked like he was about to burst into another round of laughter, but instead, he shifted uneasily on his feet. “Aye, alright, maybe ye’ve got me there” he said, scratching the back of his neck, his usual confident exterior faltering just a little more. “Ye know, I thought I could handle anythin’, but ye might just be… too much for me, sweet pea”

You laughed at his sudden bashfulness, the way he tried to remain tough but couldn't quite hide the fact that you’d gotten to him.

“Well” you said, taking a step back, “looks like you finally met your match, Haz.”

He paused for a moment, then, with a grin that was a mix of embarrassment and amusement, he held his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, ye win this round, sweetheart. But don’t think for a second that I’m goin’ down without a fight.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I’m sure you won’t. But for now, just know… I’m keepin’ my teeth to myself.”

Hazard let out a small, defeated laugh, scratching his head. “Aye, well, thank God for that. I might have had to run if ye really started…”

Despite his words, he couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at his lips. Hazard might have gotten flustered, but that only made him more endearing, and you both knew it.

[alisonkittredge]

BG3 Headcanons Nobody Asked For.

Part 1: Sleep.

Staring up at my ceiling waiting to sleep made me ask, "How do the companions realistically sleep?" Thank you insomnia for the inspiration.

Gale:

He has to be comfy. He's particular about his pillows and will be very angry if someone "borrows" HIS pillow. (Karlach and Astarion thinks his reaction is funny and will steal it, likely giving it to Lae'zel who has no idea how it got in her tent and insists AGAIN it wasn't her)

It takes him a while to fall asleep, he's a canon overthinker and what better time than alone, pent up, in a tent.

Speaking of pent up, he is likely to wank off to help sleep. It's science. (Is thinking of tav)

Tosses slightly in REM or at the beginning, eventually stays pretty much in the same position all night.

On particularly stressful days/nights, he sleep talks. You could have full conversations with him, even if they are whacko and hilarious (Shadowheart loves to mess with this). He also says funny gimmicks in his sleep like his "By Algeron's nose!" quite loudly. It does wake camp and will start with others messing with him.

He has a tendency to early to sleep, early to rise, UNLESS he has found himself caught up in a recent hyperfixation where he will be up all night and crash at daybreak. His sleep will be much different and he crashes on his stomach, drooling a lot.

Most common position is one leg straight, the other slightly bent (almost making the 4 pose), hand on either side of his chest, unintentionally touching the orb.

Has a magical alarm set the to same time every morning. He gets up promptly and is a bit peeved by those who seem to "Dilly Dally" (because he says shit like that unironically) in the mornings.

Karlach:

Almost complete opposite of Gale. The girl's got ADHD as canon so IYKYK. If you don't *Let me describe it to you*:

She crashes. Girl can be asleep in under 20 minutes and can do it in almost any conditions. Had to learn to sleep wherever chasing devils in the hells. She rocks out and goes down hard.

Tosses and turns all night. Full on starfish queen. Always starts the morning with "Gods I was so cold last night". Likely because she kicked off all her covers at hour 2.

Sleeps hard. Doesn't wake up for anything. Zariel's entire entourage could show up at 2AM and she would have to be woken up.

She has 2 modes: #1) falls asleep before dinner because she just wanted a "nap", wakes at 4am for a snack and falls back to sleep. #2) She stays up talking until everyone is going to bed, even staying up to talk with whoever is on first watch and finally crashing when the second shift gets up.

It takes her forever to get out of bed. Everyone could be up and nearly ready to go and it takes the smell of food or someone nudging her to get her to start. Even if she does wake up, she takes forever to get ready or even off her bedroll. If the group wants to leave in a timely manner, someone has to get her up early (usually Gale because being late makes him angyyy. Also Lae'zel is very punctual but refuses to wake Karlach because "she needs to learn to do it on her own")

She is super groggy when she gets up. Will not talk to anyone.

Has to hug something: Tav, Clive, a pillow, extra bedroll, Scratch, etc.

Talks in her sleep as well, but hers are unintelligible. Some words like "Heya" or small phrases can be deciphered, but usually its just loud mumbles. (Cannot hold full on conversation like with Gale)

Vivid dreams. Likes to recount them on travels and tries to figure out if they mean something. They are usually very odd and funny. Though, she does have nightmares of the hells more often than she will admit. Has only admitted such to Astarion, who can relate.

Lae'zel:

Irish exits to bed. Tells no one. If everyone is drinking and she just decides she's tired, she goes to bed. Most don't even realize she's gone for a while.

She sleeps like the dead, but will wake up wide awake. She can be woken up by sound in the middle of the night, but she easily goes back to sleep.

Doesn't move an inch after sleeping. Sleeps on her back hands on her stomach like the dead. Sometimes a leg will shift an inch or so.

She has the perfect internal clock. Has to go to bed around the same time and wakes around the same time naturally. Soldier's hours. She was trained at her creche to sleep and wake at exact times - no exceptions.

The first time she ever slept in was after a night of drinking where she went to bed after her internal clock was ignored. She had a full on panic attack and got very angry that no one woke her, despite everyone being hung over and not waking up early too.

Dreams are vivid, but she doesn't talk about them like Karlach.

Stretches before bed in her tent, trains before breakfast every morning.

If it was her way, everyone would be on her schedule. Hates the differentiation between habits. Used to the organization and tries to repeatedly convince the group that it's the only way they should be doing it. They oblige her for two days, then stop. Karlach is the first to quit. Shadowheart secretly likes the idea of organized wake and sleep times, but will never admit it to Lae'zel.

Shadowheart:

Has to have tea before bed. Convinced herself she won't sleep well without it and now she doesn't. When the group has to make quick camp and she has no time to make it, she is annoyed, but won't say anything about it.

Light sleeper. She will sleep a full night, but wakes up several times. Likes to tell the one on watch it's because she wants to check on them, but in reality, she woke up having to pee. Like every night. And because they were likely too loud doing something to keep themselves awake and it woke her up.

She sleeps like a normal person would (is anyone normal? I guess I mean what statically people have a tendency to do...). She tosses a little in REM and then stills. Side sleeper. She also snores when she is really tired, and it can wake herself up. Once Astarion called her out for snoring and she vehemently denied it, but she knew it was likely true. She's really self conscious about it.

Though she loves Tav, she doesn't love sharing a tent. She grew up sharing everything with initiates and having her own space for once is nice. She will snuggle for a few minutes then tell Tav they're a little hot and scoot away. Not even a foot touch. Girl needs her space.

Despite needing space the exceptions to this are Scratch and the Owlbear. She has to have them in her tent. She will bribe then away from other companions because she won't sleep without them. (HC is in her playthrough she romances Halsin and will sleep next to him as a bear, when she can change into her lycanthropic wolf form, she might sleep that way next to him too.)

Wakes up as soon as she hears people about, usually right after Gale and Lae'zel. Hates that Lae'zel likes to be the group alarm clock by using her sharpening stone to wake everyone up. She did try to call Lae'zel out on it, but Lae'zel just shrugged and told her everyone should be up by sunrise anyway. She is secretly thankful even if it's the most annoying noise ever because she would just sleep in if Lae'zel didn't.

Wyll:

He likes to stay up late and wakes up only when breakfast is ready. Not as bad as Karlach.

He is usually the one to take first watch, so he can stay up and read his erotica, take a private bath (he's got a routine), dance alone, train, have a drink, etc. Have "me" time.

He sleeps flipping from back to side several times. If he's really tired, he ends up on his stomach. Heavy mouth breather. Knows he is because he will wake up with dry mouth or drool crust. Very insecure about it. Half of avoiding sex with someone is the sleeping over. He thinks he's a bad sleeper. He's not that bad. One time someone called him out on it, has been embarrassed ever since.

Dreams of falling asleep snuggling with Tav, but in practice, it kind of annoys him and they keep him awake. Used to his own routines.

Has to have water nearby. Will wake up with dry mouth and chug it.

Has dreams, but rarely remembers them.

Won't really talk to anyone until he's had tea, coffee, or food. Gale makes him super annoyed in the mornings because he wants to talk immediately.

Halsin:

Can stay up late and rise early. Will often be found talking to Karlach well into the night.

Has a tent, rarely uses it. Can fall asleep by the fire with people talking nearby or even someone up on watch. Will move his sleep spot to places just outside of camp to get more of a "falls asleep under the stars" feel. Can sleep without a bedroll if he wanted.

Naturally warm (werebear HC all the way), he doesn't often need a blanket, let alone clothes. Will skip clothes when he's outside of camp or in his tent. Wishes the companions were more "open minded" about the benefits of sleeping nude.

When not asleep in camp where he can be seen, will definitely, almost every time, wank off to sleep. It's natural! If he's got Tav, he will respect their no, but will always ask for a romp before bed.

He reveries peacefully, even if he's having "nightmares". No one would know if they looked at him that he was reliving the day his archdruid mentor died. He won't burden anyone with it either.

Big cuddler. Likes cuddling before reverie if Tav is willing. Or even if on of the companions are. Doesn't have to lead to anything, a cuddle is a cuddle.

Wakes with the sun everyday. Stretches and takes a walk within minutes of waking. Sun in the first 10 minutes kind of guy. (He would love Andrew Huberman)

Will want to talk as soon as he wakes up too, to Wyll's chagrin.

Minthara:

Has shit reverie. Super light sleeper most nights, where she can't say she got much sleep. Then once or twice a month she will crash. Will sleep like Karlach and not wake for anything.

DO NOT WAKE HER UP SHE WILL HURT YOU (only verbally if you're lucky, there is a literal knife under her pillow).

Even if she has sleep issues, she insists on an image of "early to sleep, early to rise". She sees herself in a secret camaraderie with Lae'zel. She won't admit she wants Lae'zel to give her approval, but she smiles and nods at her every morning.

Eternal eye bags, but pretends they aren't there. She is gorgeous and she knows it.

Nightmares about her life in Menzoberranzan or memories of the love of her life alive are the regulars on the menu, though after a few months with the companions, she starts having reveries about Karlach in battle... a lot.

Knows she should take a shift of watch and would be the best candidate for it, but won't do it unless someone asks.

Doesn't move in her sleep and if she wakes up, she moves as fast as a spider when you try to catch it. So, once again: DO NOT WAKE HER UP.

Doesn't talk to anyone until everyone has eaten, even if she is wide awake. She hates talking to people in the morning, unless you're Tav... or Karlach (but as previously mentioned, Karlach doesn't wake until breakfast and doesn't talk until breakfast, so it's her dreams come true.)

Astarion:

Left him for last becasue talking about the causes of CPTSD on sleep can be heartbreaking and complicated. I'm thankful I don't often relive memories in my dreams, but I know many who do. And he sure does.

He has broken reverie, not just shit reverie like Minthara. Minthy still reveries. He dreams/reveries together. He can't tell what is a memory and what is a dream anymore. His memories have been so rewritten, he doesn't believe he actually remembers anything properly, let alone his life before Cazador. He considers anything that comes up from back then to be a fantasy his mind made up.

It takes him forever to fall asleep and he wakes up easily. He is getting only a few hours each night. Spends a lot of time staring up at the tent ceiling or secretly watching the first watch until his turn at second. Is very often on either first or second watch.

Knows a lot about how the rest of the companions sleep. You can just assume he took these notes that I'm now recording for you.

He has no real sleep routine because he thinks they don't work and is frustrated by them even though Gale insists he keep trying.

Even when he's tired, exhausted, body ready to pass out, his mind is awake. He will still just lay there. Chronic insomnia.

When he has Tav's blood for the first time, it is the first time he has a full night reverie in centuries. It's not even scary memories, but rather sad mundane ones (would be sad and traumatic to anyone else, but traumatic for him is much more intense obvs).

By canon will have severe nightmares when too hungry.

Usually has to hunt before bed if Tav (or another companion) doesn't give him blood (HC is that Halsin is one of the only other willing to share). Gets excess anxiety out, but also feeding helps him get at least to sleep, eventually. Nights he doesn't he pulls all nighters or ends up having very short, nightmare induced reveries.

If Tav sleeps next to him, he sleeps a tad bit better, but is extremely nervous his insomnia will keep them up. First few times lies there just listening to them sleep.

Will pretend to "wake up" after others have gotten up, but has been up for hours already. Is the actual first one up even if no one else knows. Often takes a walk in the early light (Has seen Halsin sleeping butt naked and has considered waking the bear with a special "treat"). But usually uses the time to feel the sun on his skin and wade in the river alone.

Thank you for enjoying my very detailed mindless imaginings.

[mono-blogs-art]

Pluto episode 10 is excellent and thank fucking god, the truth is finally out. May and Ai can finally see eye to eye (literally) and I loved the way the confession happened - May didn't orchestrate some weird plan to get to Ai again, no, Ai came back by herself because she can't let go. Because she's trying to bear all the burden and renounce all that was given to her but still, she can't help but want to leave a mark. Know that May is loved by her, and find some quiet comfort in knowing that in turn, maybe, Ai can be loved too. And so then, running into May was mere bad luck, or karma.

I wasn't a big fan of how the show had May regain her vision and deliberately choose not to tell Ai - for reasons beyond me, it's not like that would change anything about her original plan anyway. It's unnecessary and feels shitty in a way that takes me out of the immersion a bit, but I can also somehow see how it's in character for May, who needs to mastermind and control the narrative and thus, Ai's reactions. Well, she didn't calculate that Ai would just, not react at all and run away and leave her. Her plan failed. So she had no choice but to finally tell the truth. I wish just a tiny bit that May would have been more direct and just outright said everything to her face, but I also really liked the detail of her pulling the motorcycle keys out and just looking Ai straight in the eyes for that reveal. Very fun way to do that. The emotional breakdown afterwards was very raw and cathartic - May has already forgiven herself for what she did, but can Ai forgive her? And can Ai forgive herself? I love that we see those questions asked and answered explicitly because fuck yes, that guilt is exactly what's keeping this whole net of lies intact.

Now May and Aioon can meet for real, and start anew. And I'm very excited to see how they do it!

In the meantime, Oom - I owe you an apology. I said in the beginning of watching the show that you are the worse twin but I may have given you an unfair treatment. You are a bit of an ass, yeah, but you care. There's still 2 more episodes to go and the only mystery yet to be solved is the original question of "Who is behind Oom's accident?" so I know that the next two episodes will feature Oom heavily, and so my opinion is subject to change, but I'm once again in awe of how much this show let's its characters breathe and live, and I think I like Oom. In her own way, she's trying her best to do right by her grandma, her love, herself, and of course, her big sis.

[tamayula-hl]

I am sure many of you are surprised that I suddenly started drawing MC eyes (personalities) 🤣

1. As I started to draw the boys in a more realistic manner, I started to feel uncomfortable drawing the MC with no eyes drawn 2. started to feel difficulty in expressing MC's emotions without drawing his eyes 3. And after thinking about my future creative direction, I realized that what I really want to do most is to draw MCs with eyes (personalities) (there are so many attractive MCs in this fandom, I was afraid to present my own MCs with personalities… 🤣🤣🤣)

These are the reasons why all of a sudden I started drawing MCs with eyes! I'm sorry to everyone who has been looking forward to seeing MCs with no eyes (≒ readers), but I'm going to try my best with my new creative policy from now on🙇‍

First of all, thank you so much for liking my NSFW piece! I have been getting requests from various people about their aftercare, and I have a strong desire to draw it myself, but I haven't been able to come up with a good expression and idea for it yet 😂. I can't wait to draw how the Slytherins, who were dominant and devoured the MCs like animals during the intimate act, treat the MCs sweetly and politely during the aftercare 💪💪.

Oh thank you!😫🙏💕✨ おそらく同じ人からでしょうか？このように私の慣れ親しんだ日本語でたくさんの温かいお言葉を頂けてとても嬉しいです！ あなたがくれたたくさんのメッセージのおかげで、元気になれました！心からありがとうございます😌

Awww what a fragile, sad, yet somehow beautiful story 😭😭✨ Yes, the time when the Titanic sank and the time when Ominis lived are exactly the same… (I sometimes look at the movie Titanic when I paint to see what the characters are wearing 😌) The fact that Ominis and MC died at the young age of about 37 years old on the Titanic to escape from the spell of Gaunt is too sad. But I can't help but hope that their only son, the fruit of their love, survives and lives a happy life with the Ominis bloodline 😭✨

This adorable message from you (and this precious dog and cat!) made me smile! Thank you so much💕😌🙏

Wow, really? I've never helped with a drawing like that, but I'm very curious and would love to get a sneak peek of that work 😌🤣🙏. On a side note, I must confess that my recent drawing style has been very much influenced by a cartoon called “Veil” by Kotteri! It is my goal to create amazing and beautiful drawings like those vintage movies and posters 😍

Hehe, thanks! I am very happy to receive such compliments and warm words 😌💕🫶

I've always wanted to one day replace that famous 1852 painting of Ophelia as Sakurako, and the story of Hamlet Sebastian and Ophelia Sakurako would be very interesting 🤣💕💕. I love Taylor Swift's “Love Story” so I would love to paint a Romeo and Juliet homage Ominis x MC someday 😌

Very difficult choice 🤣. I can be a Seb girl or an Omi girl depending on my mood at the time, so it's really hard to choose one or the other! By the way, today I am Omi girl 😂💕

I actually haven't read most of attack on titan, but I know its famous scenes and I'd love to draw a touching comic that pays homage to them someday 🥲💪

[karasuno-planet]

Hi can i request a love triangle between Tanaka and nishinoya where the reader is a manager whose really sweet, the rest of the details is up to you. I'm also a big fan of your work!

a/n: wowowow it's been forever since I've written on here but it's winter break and I saw this request and want to revive the blog :) sorry it took me so long and thanks for reading! (fyi I am really in the mood to write for noya so if you have any requests plz send them my way!)

wc: 930

genre: just silly fluff

fem!manager!reader x noya and tanaka

Anything To Impress You

(gif not mine)

The Karasuno boy's volleyball team certainly never failed to make an impression. In fact, in hindsight Kiyoko's confusing words as you accepted to come along with her to learn about possibly becoming a team manager were really a much needed warning. As you walked into the gym for the first time, practically glued to Kiyoko's side, the boys seemed very nice at first, and honestly, a little timid. That is, until a little spikey-haired boy and his loud accomplice came walking in holding armfuls of volleyballs, until they suddenly were dropped to the gym floor along with the boys jaws.

"A new girl, really??" The spikey-haired boy exclaimed.

"Fresh blood!!"

Then they approached you like they had never seen a girl before, eyes wide and mouths wide open, pushing each other to try to introduce themselves first.

"Nishinoya Yuu! Guardian deity of this team, but you can call me-"

"Tanaka Ryunosuke!!"

Just as you were gathering yourself to speak, Kiyoko hushed them. "Behave yourselves.."

And just like that, they stood up straight, quieted down, pressed four fingers to their foreheads to salute Kiyoko and return to the rest of the team. But they had already found out everything they needed to know from your sweet demeanor and your failure to immediately shut them down. As they left, you caught Nishinoya mumbling "No promises.."

⚡︎⚡︎⚡︎

That was only the beginning of the competition. Once they learned your name, it was about every other word from their mouths.

"Y/N! Did you see that kill?!"

"Not as impressive as my serve receive... wait wait! Does Y/n know rolling thunder??"

And it was commonplace for them to try to keep you after practice for as long as they could. They'd volunteer to help you put the net away, and as soon as you knew it Tanaka's arm was slung around your shoulder, "So it's about time someone told you about your welcome-to-the-team party."

"What?" You looked at him, confused.

"You know, your welcome party. We always have those... Anyways, it's this weekend, at Noya's house."

Suddenly Kageyama scoffed as he finished picking volleyballs up off the court, "Do not go to either of their houses.."

Noya pouted, "C'mon man!! You're no fun. And no longer invited!"

Kageyama ignored him while Tanaka chuckled, "Fine, you caught us, no party...at least come get ice cream with us tonight?"

They turned and looked at you with pleading eyes, as if the teenage boys in front of you were convinced they were puppy dogs. But you didn't really have the heart to turn them down for something as small as ice cream, "Sure."

They lit up, throwing their bags together and getting out of the gym doors as fast as they possibly could, conveniently turning the lights off on Kageyama as they left.

After they finished fighting over who got to pay for your ice cream (They split it after realizing neither of them brought very much money), the night was relatively peaceful. Sure they spoke over each other, but whenever you had something to say they quieted as if listening to a sacred whisper, and kicked each other incessantly under the table when they wanted the other to shut up to ask you something else about yourself. They wanted to know everything.

⚡︎⚡︎⚡︎

Since the night you spent with them, their treatment towards you has only become more pronounced. You saw them in the hallways at school, even trying to catch your attention through the window when they passed by the classes you were in, and you knew they were bragging to the rest of the team about the attention you gave them.

They wrote cheeky messages on your locker in dry-erase marker, signing their initials underneath in case you were to suspect anyone else. And when you went along with the team for away games, they were downright vicious to any guy that looked your way.

"Did you see that idiot Loserkawa looking at y/n today?" Tanaka grumbled after a tournament match they played while Aoba Johsai played on the next court over.

"Tsk, least he didn't try anything. That's for the the better I think, y/n likes short guys anyways," Noya bragged.

"WHAT? That's not true! She never said that!"

"Did too! I totally heard it!"

"Well- Well I heard she likes guys with reaaal short hair... what do you think of that Noya?" Tanaka ran his hands through Nishinoya's hair, making a buzzing sound.

Sugawara laughed, "Don't joke about buzzing his hair- he might just do it.."

"And run the risk of looking like Tanaka? No way!"

While overhearing this conversation, you silently exhale after hearing Noya deny that he was going to buzz his hair. How ridiculous would it be to see them both running around like that...

⚡︎⚡︎⚡︎

As you walked to practice the next day, your attention was immediately grabbed by the sounds of muffled laughter coming from the gym and Asahi standing outside.

"Warning before you go in, y/n, Noya and Tanaka have, um... 'something real important' to confess to you?"

"Oh, uh, thanks Asahi," You say as you walk in, admittedly a little nervous. What could they have to say to you that causes such a commotion? Asahi clearly looked uncomfortable.

Upon your entrance, everyone quieted and Noya and Tanaka stood up straight, taking a breath and closing their eyes as if they had to work up the courage to speak. Your stomach began to turn, worried about what they could be thinking.

Simultaneously, they opened their eyes and burst out, "WHICH ONE OF US IS BETTER LOOKING??"

"Oh my god."

[masterlist]

[silentstaresfanficandfanart]

a reminder to all translators: YOU ARE AN ARTIST!

Translation work *is* art, and it's truly incredible what you do and you touch so many more lives than you realize- and often, those who's lives you touch with your translation work never realize just how much thanks they owe you, but from the bottom of my heart I want you all to know how grateful I am for all people in fandom and outside of it who translate things, those who do it professionally, those who do it for fun, what you do cannot be replaced by a machine, yes maybe it can give a literal translation but it cant really offer any of the human experience or creative choices that actual translators put into things! TO ALL MY BELOVED ANIME AND MANGA LOVING FANS ESPECIALLY i want to remind you to show some love to translators who make it possible for us to enjoy our favorite shows, as well as a special thanks to those who make fan translations of anime openings or things that never recieved an english translation! Pokemon fans you guys should get this especially, remember those guide books that answered so many questions we've had in the west that only got translated thanks to fan efforts and translators who were paid to translate some of the earliest guide books? Naruto fans! If you dont know, but you might, theres also a naruto radio show that theres translations for online that we ONLY have acess to because of fans efforts!

Don't get me started on all the people who make translations and EVEN SING THEM! remember how amazing some of those anime song translations and make them *actually singable?* Don't forget that doing that is a very creative act too! and people who translate fan comics!!!! or fanfictions!!!! please! appreciate them! It takes so much skill to translate the experiences of one culture into another, to make it understandable and meaningful across cultural and language barriers and to make it sound good on top of it all.

Tonight I cried reading an old translation of harmonia, one of my favorite naruto endings, it's 15 years old now, and i used to listen to it and sing it (with the help of that translation) with one of my little sisters, and its one of the only happy memories I have from that time in my childhood.

and so many other magnificent translators filled my childhood with wonder and joy, giving me the meanings of songs that changed my view of the world and helped me cope with hardship, and grow into a person i'm very proud of being.

Thank you, you'll never know just how many lives and hearts you touch. You are loved, you are appreciated, and anyone who thinks your art form can be replaced by a machine doesn't understand language well enough or culture well enough to know just how difficult it really is to capture the essence of someone elses art and I think in many ways, translation is a field where that which we call the soul of an art piece is most tangible, and can be most clearly seen, as it takes human experience and conscious choices based on an actual understanding of the real world and life itself to express that which is human in art. thank you, so so much for all you do.

i could go on for hours, but this is all to say, thank you

and if you THINK you can be replaced by machine translation please just go through an ensemble stars fan comic through google translate its utterly incomprehensible-

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

How do you think ghouls would react or cope with their(maybe occasional) impotence. Cause I have to imagine it’s hard enough trying to cling to yr libido amidst a fallout, & even w/ apathy/desensitization like… ghouls have endured Major nerve damage— burns are one thing, but radioactive burns from enough gamma ray exposure… anyway we take major liberties as fallout fans & I adore (most) every ghoul across the games(god they Always have to have a sad backstory…) but I keep getting hung up on like. The emotional toll, Especially concerning new budding relationships

Friend, I owe you a huge thank you, because this ask came at a perfect time for me; I got it when I was ironing out the finer details of the newest Raul long-form piece and it really helped gel things together for me . I had given this topic some thought before, especially with characters like Cooper and Raul (who are very similar men who have very similar reactions to their traumas IMO...maybe more on that later), who I think would neglect their sexual needs for decades on end.

The physical stuff almost goes without saying. Almost. Yes, I think a large part of the fandom, me included, usually takes liberties with how well most of our favorite ghouls can jump straight into the fray, but too much realism and none of our protagonists would survive very many intimate ghoul encounters. You'd literally have to die for the dick (or metaphorical dick), and not a sexy death, either. I often try to include some of the more realistic physical aspects of ghoulification, though, especially for older ghouls who would definitely be feeling the impact of their age at a few centuries old.

I'd say that the scarring and the nerve damage would tie for first in how much potential they have to hamper your sex life, but I suppose they sort of hold hands. Scar tissue often has nerve damage and hence is less sensitive (except to things like heat and cold, the sensation of which can be amplified by the presence of scarring). The lack of sensation could make it difficult to become fully physically aroused, even with proper stimulation, and it could make sex feel different than it did before, even if you're perceiving the sensations. Some aspects of it could even be unpleasant, painful. I think "outercourse" is probably a big hit with ghouls, honestly.

Scarring isn't the worst situation you could end up in as a ghoul, though. Gamma radiation is incredibly hard on connective and soft tissues, so if you live long enough, well...needless to say, many of the nude feral ghouls you see in-universe have no genitals. Those who are "flash-ghoulified" by a single massive dose of radiation like John Hancock also run the risk of coming out with burns so bad they cause contractures (an injury where the length of your muscle/tendon/skin is shortened and stiffened, causing it to lose much of its function), or burns so bad that flesh fuses to flesh. Ghouls have a wide range of bodies and injuries that decorate those bodies, some much more unfortunate than others. They all still want to be loved on some level.

In terms of the potential emotional roots to impotence, you'd think that that would be just as large a hurdle as the physiological stuff, honestly. I don't think there's a character in the Fallout universe that hasn't experienced significant personal loss and hardship at some point in their lives. For many, life is loss and hardship. Overall, it's a very un-erotic world full of emotionally unwell people. "Apathetic" is a great word to describe the average person you meet. It's not like you can just schedule an appointment with a therapist downtown, either, or call the crisis hotline when things are at their worst. Unfortunately, the most effective way of dealing with one's emotions while continuing to stay alive is to simply swallow them down or drink/use them away. That sort of emotional constipation can have unforeseen physical consequences, especially if it goes on for years and years.

But, as I've pointed out before, love often finds us at the most unexpected times in our lives. It's both a blessing and a curse if you're a ghoul; even those who don't hate ghouls often have no love for them, so actually being desired feels amazing, but to be loved is to be truly known, seen...a level of vulnerability most ghouls actively avoid, lest it be used against them. Tender emotions and sex are both massive, easy cudgels to wield. Ghouls also have to navigate the hostile waters of fetishization when it comes to people who do express attraction to them. Still, the temptation of love, true companionship is enough to make most risk it, and taking that risk makes it sting even more when your body doesn't want to cooperate.

It would be a bit of a vicious cycle: a lack of confidence and too many insecurities causes issues with one's performance in bed, which takes a further toll on your confidence and plays into your insecurities, which makes the issues in bed worse...and on and on. For many, it would definitely be an uphill battle. I imagine that for some, sex with other ghouls would be preferable simply for the fact that you both understand that sometimes your brain and body don't want to be team players. Though, I also imagine there are some who can't stand sex with other ghouls and consider it "depressing". Self-hatred is easy when the whole world seems to hate you, too.

[bokettochild]

Christmas of Closure - Day 5

I forgot who asked for this one, but thank you for reminding me that this exists! I've missed this story!

Anyways, here's some Twilight with the princesses!

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 (you are here!) | Day 6 (eventually)

Update under the cut!

-

  Much of the day passes with little interaction between the heroes.  

   Four does not return to the room the others linger in, and though Twilight and Sky do, it’s only for so long before apparently Hilda determines it fit to give them space of their own, but properly this time. This time they are given rooms. All in the same hall as their brother, even including the one they’d sort of picked out for themselves.  

  It doesn’t slip past Twilight though that they are arranged throughout the hall. Maybe he wouldn’t have noticed, except Sky is given the room directly beside that of the vet, and Hyrule the one across. The rest, he can’t exactly name a reason why, but he knows those two were intentional.  

  It’s nice though, having space. Much as he loves his brothers, they’re a lot to deal with on the best of days, and those recently are anything but that. It’s been a long time since he’d had any space to claim for himself, never mind one he could shut others out of. It is odd to him though, especially after Ravio’s outburst yesterday, that his is the one across from Sky’s and beside Hyrule’s rooms; the third closest. Maybe it’s because he’d helped, or at least shown he could. After all, the rancher muses, wincing, it’s not as though there is anyone close to the ornery teen, so perhaps it only made sense to the princess to place someone who could be helpful nearby, rather than the rest of the heroes. 

  Whatever the reason, given all that’s happened, he’s mostly content to stay in his room once he’s shown it. The only real reason he’d have to leave was if he was needed, and as there’s no knock save that of some servant dropping off food, the rest of the day is spent is silence. 

  It’s unnerving. 

  Lying in the bed offered, he’s struck with the fact that he actually hasn’t been properly alone since meeting the rest of the heroes, and while it’s a welcome thing, it’s also hollow. He’s still pissed with the rest, knows full well that if one of them was around they’d break into a fight, but it’s also so strange to be alone again. Again though, he doesn’t want to be near the rest! 

  Settling in, pulling the blankets over his head, he huffs.  

  Now he understands why Hyrule had chosen to haunt the door. 

 - 

  He’s not asleep too long before there’s a tap on his door. 

  Blankets fly free and away, but he doesn’t, instead staring out into the blackness of the room. His ears must be tricking him, no? Why would-? Yet there it is again, a tapping, hesitant but there. 

  The rancher sits up. 

  Is it one of his brothers? A servant? He hasn’t a clock on hand (or Time, who they would usually just ask) but shouldn’t people be…asleep? 

  But if they’re not asleep, then they have to be awake for some reason or another, and he might as well get up and just ask instead of sitting there all night long wondering and waiting for them to go away. 

  The floor is cold as he crosses it, and he half regrets not grabbing for his fur. He’d forgotten what it was like to stay in any sort of castle like building, and he could be wrong, but he swears Lorule is just a bit colder than Hyrule was. Definitely more so than in Ordon, where sleepwear as a concept is near laughable for how warm most nights are. As is, he very much wishes he’d grabbed something even a bit more concealing, his shirt maybe, to throw on, especially when he opens the door and finds not one, but two princesses looking up at him. 

  He thought it was one of the heroes. He never would have guessed it would be the two girls. 

  “Yer majesties,” he lacks cap or the room to bow, so a quick touch to the forehead seems appropriate. The last few times he’d forgotten, mostly because worry or tension filled the air, and while they’re not exactly absent now, it’s the least he can do as a show of respect considering…everything else. 

  “Hero of Twilight,” Hilda responds, gaze flat but ears twitching slightly. “May we have a word?” 

  “Of course.” He opens the door, because, well, it wouldn’t do to have the stand in the hall would it? Still, it feels odd, letting to girls in, and he’s careful to leave the door open, just in case. These are ladies after all and he wouldn’t want people talking at all, especially their idiot captain. More for their sake than his own, but Ulli didn’t raise no rake. 

  It’s a decent sized room, at least as far as he’s concerned, although on the smaller side for a castle. He’s gotten the impression they’re in an out of the way hall, and not one of the sort usually used for guests. Not that he minds at all, but it does feel rather… odd, especially with having only the bed to offer as seating. Which he doesn’t do, because that would feel wrong, and odd, so he just sort of… stands there. 

  The two princesses do the same, hands folded primly before themselves until they almost look like actual reflections of each other, save the little things like hair and colors and all that. The only real major difference, at least in his eyes, is the expressions on their faces. Zelda’s is more pinched, Hilda’s more authoritative, although less then the times before. 

  “It’s about Link,” Zelda starts. 

  He nods. He probably could have guessed. They wouldn’t have any other reason to talk to him anyways, although the words, and their tone, do make worry stir up all over again. “Is he alright?” Only respect has him not turning and immediately looking to the vet’s room, “did something happen again? If so-” 

  A gloved hand raises, the darker haired of the two girls answering before he can finish. “He is sleeping. Poorly, but that is to be expected.” 

  The urge to ask if he can check, all the same, rises, but he bites it down. He hasn’t the right after all. The only reason he’s been to see Legend was because he’d had knowledge they needed, not because the vet had wanted him there or anyone had thought it the best thing to do. Ravio had made that clear; he was their last resort, only there because they needed someone, anyone, who could help the injured hero. 

  Trust isn’t easily earned, and with the vet he feels that trust lost may be lost forever. As was, he’d barely been offered any before, Ordonia only knows what it will look like now, once Legend’s himself again. 

  If he’s ever himself again, a dark voice in his head whispers. 

  Aloud though, a softer voice speaks. “You mentioned knowledge,” the darker princess’s eyes are intense as they meet his, searching, head ever so slightly on one side as she watches him, something unreadable in the pinch of her brows and purse of her lips. “That you’d studied darker magic.” 

  “Never for any ill intent, I assure you, ma’am.” He’s quick to clarify.  

  “Why then?” 

  It’s…. It’s not something he’d wanted to talk about. Sky had asked, in a way, but, despite everything, the other had accepted rather easily when he’d said he didn’t want to talk about it. He still doesn’t, but he’s not sure exactly how accepting of that the two princesses will be, especially with Legend’s well-being on the line and he being part of the cause of that. 

  The rancher winces, hand trailing for his neck, gaze wanting to flick away but knowing- Minda’s voice sharp in his head, how that might be taken. “There was an outbreak in my home-town when I was a young thing. It- it weren’t purty, an’ I’d hoped to maybe learn why it happened, or maybe how to fix it.” 

  “Did you?” The expression in the lighter princess’s face is more easily readable then her counterpart; worry, concern, maybe even pity. 

  “No ma’am.” He tries for a hint of a smile all the same. “It was fixed though, jist, not by me.” 

  Red eyes trail over him, slowly, “understandable. You are no mage after all.” 

  “No, ma’am.” 

  “But you know about magic.” 

  “Yes, ma’am. Some.” He’s confused, although he tries not to show it. They’ll tell him what they want, when they want. That’s how royals are. After all, he’s had a dark and light princess of his own to teach him as much, and he knows where asking questions leads to, and that’s usually being ignored while they talk to each other instead. 

  Similarly, both girls turn to each other, exchanging some series of expressions and likely underlying thoughts, but he’s blind to what most of it means, instead standing there awkwardly and wondering what his chances are of crossing the room to his discarded shirt and tunic without getting stared at are. Probably not high, but he daren’t interrupt, and considering they’re here, he knows they’ll be saying something to him sooner rather than later. 

  He’s right too, for its only another moment or so before Hilda is turning to him again, and once more, he sees that flicker he’s seen twice before, that glimpse of brief uncertainty as crimson eyes level him. “You know how to shift back from a beast form, and into one, yes?” 

  “Yes,” he nods, finally settling on crossing his arms in order to best do something with his hands, and preserve some sort of warmth. Loosely though, so as to not look threatening. He’s well aware how it could be taken if he’s not careful, which he usually doesn’t mind, but wouldn’t bode well at all around here. 

  Ravio had threatened to have him put out like a dog if he misbehaved, and while he’s not entirely sure that wasn’t just emotion taking over and speaking, he’d rather not risk it. He’s never been to Lorule after all, and he’s not keen on learning the country at the moment. Even just the castle seems quite enough, if not too much, at this time. 

  “Could you teach Link?” Zelda asks, face pinching up in impatience and unsurprisingly, concern. Because of course she would be concerned, this is her brother they’re talking about, but also- 

  “Pardon?” 

  “Can you teach him?” 

  Twilight blinks, startled. He’s not sure what he had expected them to have to say to him, this whole night-time visit coming as a surprise, but…. “Me?” 

  Hilda nods, sharply. “You are the only one who has displayed any sort of understanding as to his situation, any sort of familiarity.” One gloved hand fists in her heavy skirt. “Prince Link requires help as he adjusts to all that has happened, and while Princess Zelda and myself are fully willing to offer our assistance, our own knowledge is quite limited in these respects; there are some things we simply do not know. But you do.”  

  It’s got to be a royals thing, the way that heavy eyes bore into those they fix on. Blue and crimson both hold his own, watching, intent, focused, and more terrifyingly; the slightest bit of hope touches those two tired faces, like he’s some answer to a prayer they hadn’t dared to breathe.  The expectation is heavy, and strong as even he is, he’s not sure he can carry it without faltering. 

  But it’s also a promise. A chance. It’s a way to help, to atone for what he’d done. It’s a chance to see the vet for himself, to make sure he’s okay. 

  Yes, he’s got a protege already, yes, he barely has a handle on teaching Wild anything. But this is different; this is helping someone learn to live again with something that is beyond their control, but within his to help. It’s heavy, yes. He’s not that strong, yes. But Legend needs someone, and Twilight will be darned if he turns his back this time. 

  His silence though must be read otherwise, because Zelda sighs and Hilda’s eyes slip away, downwards, voice softer this time, slower, less clipped. “You’re the only light being who’s handled dark magic without corruption before. I understand what we ask may seem-” 

  “I’ll help.” 

  Blue and red rise to meet midnight. 

  “This is our fault,” he sounds again, echoing the words that have been on the tongues and minds of all of them since it all began. “We did this, an’ we ought to be the ones bearin’ the consequences.”  

  “Link isn’t-” 

  “Link-” and Ordonia help him, it’s still hard to use that name on another, “-is my team-mate- my friend if he’s still willin’ to call me that. He doesn’t deserve to face all this, but he has to, he’s stuck with it, fer better or worse, so I might as well pull my own and do what I can to make that easier for him.” And there’s no smiling on this, no assurance he can give, just the plain bare truth as he meets those heavy eyes. “I can’t promise I won’t mess up again, or that I’ll do everything I ought, or even that I can keep my temper with him all the time-” and despite expectations, Zelda cracks a tiny smile towards the floor at that, although Hilda looks none too impressed as she stares at him, “-but I want to try. It’s the least I can do.” 

  Dark painted lips purse with a small nod. “Excellent.” 

 Zelda, in contrast, just stares at him, doesn’t speak, doesn’t answer, doesn’t really make any expression either. It’s uncanny, and all the more so for her similarity to her brother. 

  “It will be some time before he is recovered fully, but should it be required, we might send for you if he needs help.” 

  “I’ll be here,” because where else would he be? “Jist….” and it’s been bothering, so while he’s not sure if he has a right to ask, if he really wants to know, he still speaks, “are you sure it’s alright? Yer- Ravio didn’t seem fond of my bein’ near him.” 

  This time it’s red turning to blue for answer and the light princess sighing, wincing really, like the very question pains her. “My beloved brother has-” a huff, a twitch of long ears, “Link is afraid of dogs.” 

  “Which is not to be shared nor mocked,” Hilda affirms quickly, gaze darting, but easing at the nod he gives immediately. 

  Both girls relax some when he says nothing of it. 

  “You’ve seen it, how small that form is,” the lighter speaks again. “Even hylian though, he’s been hunted. He hides it best he can, but-” 

  But he’d still known Legend was hesitant near Wolfie, near avoidant at times. The first he’d made to have contact was back the same day as both their secrets had been spilled to the other. He hadn't thought much of it then, but it makes sense, he supposes, even if it does sting a small part of himself, be it out of further guilt or more sympathy. “I see.” 

  “We would not have asked,” Hilda murmurs, now much softer, gaze the same, “except for how you handled everything before, this morning.” 

  “I jist-” 

  “He calmed,” where one softens the other firms, Zelda’s voice stronger now against the stone of the room, almost ringing back but for lack of volume, although not force. “Say what Ravio might, but Link doesn’t do that with anyone he doesn’t trust. He calmed in your presence, and let you keep him close when he was vulnerable, confused, and no doubt scared. Regardless of your actions, and that of your companions, he doesn’t remember any of it enough to see you as a threat or enemy.” She has Sky’s eyes, he finds himself thinking, turned on him with that same strained, searching pain he’d seen from the skyloftian earlier in the day, standing in the hall outside of their vet’s door. “That may change, or perhaps not, but for now, for his sake, we’re willing to offer you the same if you help him.” 

  It’s not as though there’s any real choice, or real deliberation. There’s doubt- concern, yes, but regardless of who, or how, or where, or when, this is a fellow hero, a brother if anyone still would think to call them that, and Twilight will and has ridden through fire for his little brothers. Doing it for another- doing far less- is only natural. 

  “Just give a call if you want me, or if he does. I’m here.” 

  “Thank you.” 

  “Nothing to thank me for,” he almost feels he ought to bow to the hylian princess, “it’s the right thing, plain and simple. I’m just glad you’re willing to give me the chance.” 

  That face, so like their vet’s, yet softer, sweeter, twists up, tension in proud shoulders and tightly clasped fingers. “We’re not, but Link is, and somehow, between the four of us,” another glance between the two royals, “he’s always been the wisest on these matters.”