#even if my recent posts have indicated otherwise

[lostyesterday]

Who’s had sex with who? (DS9 Edition)

I decided to make a DS9 version of this, for some reason. Note that this has little to do with which characters I think are actually attracted to each other/would be in long-term or romantic relationships, and it definitely has nothing to do with what I ship.

#star trek ds9 #lane posts #this chart is “technically” canon compliant #in that anyone who canonically had sex is labelled as such regardless of my personal feelings as to how much it made sense #i’m not taking any of this seriously it’s just for fun #but i absolutely do have at least some rationale for everything on the chart #disagreement with anything here is welcome as always #i promise i do make posts about topics other than which star trek characters have had sex #even if my recent posts have indicated otherwise

[janmisali]

what do you think of tone indicators in general?

unfortunately my thoughts on tone indicators are somewhat nuanced. fortunately, this is tumblr not twitter, so I can just write out my full thoughts in one post and be as verbose about it as feels necessary.

speaking as an autistic person (and I know there are other autistic people who don't hold this same view, this is just my perspective), I think as an accessibility tool, the extended set tone indicators in current popular use is fundamentally misguided.

the oldest ones, /s for sarcasm and /j for jokes, make sense. their notation isn't the most intuitive thing ("does /s mean sarcastic or serious?") but it's not too difficult to explain what they mean. I've had to spend my whole life learning by brute force what different tones of voice mean and what they change about how I'm supposed to interpret something, so I already know what "read this in a sarcastic voice" and "read this as a joke" are supposed to mean. my existing skills can be translated into the new form without too much effort.

the same thing applies to emoji and emoticons. I know what facial expressions mean, because I had to learn what they mean. figuring out if :) is sincere or not from context is a skill I've already needed to develop. it doesn't come naturally for me, but it's something I already at least somewhat know how to do.

most of the tone indicators in current use uh. don't work like this.

tone indicators like /ref or /nbh don't correspond to specific tones of voice. I don't have a "I'm making a reference" voice or a "I'm not talking about a person who's here" voice that I can picture the sentence being read in. these do not indicate tones, they're purely disambiguators. they clarify what something means without necessarily changing how it would be read out loud.

and on paper, that's fine, right? like, it's theoretically a good thing to take an otherwise ambiguous statement and add something to it that clarifies what you meant by it. the problem is that these non-tone tone indicators are not even remotely self-explanatory. it's up to me, the person who is being clarified to, to know what all these acronyms are supposed to mean, and how they change the way I'm supposed to interpret what something means.

it's, quite literally, a newly-invented second set of social cues that I'm expected to learn separately from the set that I've already spent my whole life figuring out, and it works completely differently.

sure, these rules are (in principle) less arbitrary than the rules of facial expressions and tones of voice and how long you're supposed to wait before it's your turn to speak, but they're also fully artificial and recently invented, which means they're currently in a constant state of flux. tone indicators go in and out of fashion all the time, and the "comprehensive lists" are never helpful.

in theory, I appreciate the idea of people going out of their way to clarify what they mean by potentially ambiguous things they post online. if it worked, that would be a really nice thing to do.

however, sometimes I imagine what the internet would be like without them. what if instead of using /s, the expectation was that if you're sarcastic online there's no guarantee that strangers reading your post will know what you meant? what if instead of inventing more and more acronyms to cover every possible potentially confusing situation, we just... expected one another to speak less ambiguously in the first place?

so, I on paper like the idea of tone indicators. I think it's good that some people are trying to be considerate by being extra clear about what they mean by things. but if tone indicators didn't exist, and people who wanted to be considerate in this way instead just made a point of phrasing things more clearly to begin with, I think that would be vastly preferable to even the most well-implemented tone indicator system.

also /pos sucks because there's something deeply and profoundly wrong for an abbreviation that means "I don't mean this as an insult, don't worry" to be spelled the same way as an acronym that's an insult

#tone indicators #jan misali

[tinydefector]

Hi!! 😆

Can I have Soundwave x human reader (smut pls (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง)?

People didn't write him much, my husband need more love 😔🤌❤️✨

Thank for reading this!!

Stress relief

Soundwave x human reader

Warnings: Smut, Oral, Cockwarning

Word count: 1.5K

Request and ask open, read pinned post

__________________

"Soundwave can you re-check that scanner for me, I can't reach it to recalibrate its systems from here" the human's voice calls out to the intelligence officer, as they move around Soundwave desk in a scattered fashion trying to find maps and energon signals.

 Soundwave helm tilts slightly at the request as he turns to observe his human.he runs his own diagnostics, clearly indicating the scanner does not need recalibration. Soundwave almost uncanny mix of voices patch together speak:  " assistance not required. Scanner functioning adequately."  He remains standing quietly, typing away at the large computer with his servos while his tendrils rearrange scattered data pads. 

Their eyes meet his visor, looking up at him slightly frazzled. "Are you sure they are?" 

 With a sigh, he re reviews the scanner readings again, analysing more closely given the human's evident fatigue. His displays flash as data is processed.  "Confirmation: scanner calibration within normal parameters. However, you appear in need of recharge." The mixed voices of Knockout, Starscream and their own voice echoes back at them as He awaits a response, sensors attuned to subtle cues that could indicate the depth of exhaustion and other issues requiring assistance. 

"I'm fine soundwave" they call out while moving back to continue working, soundwave wraps his digits around them, pulling them back against his form, his visor tilted down to look at their eyes, he knows full well they are exhausted and Fatigue was catching up to their smaller frame. "I promise soundwave, I'm fine"

Soundwave detects elevated stress levels and the possibility of accident or harm at the current state of exhaustion. Soft ventilations cycle through his frame as his digits gently but firmly enfold the human in a protective hold.  "Statement: physiological indicators suggest otherwise."  His visor dims softly. Forcing the issue would risk negative impact, not only on his work but their work too.  

"I'm not gonna win this argument with you am I?" 

 Soundwave's visor remains dimmed calmly as the human speaks. He processes their words carefully before responding.  "Negative." They sigh softly and press their head against Soundwave's shoulder plating, each of his steps echoing throughout the halls.   "Are you going to stay with me tonight, or does megatron have you working even more?" Soundwave processes the question, sensing his partner's wish for company while recharging.

 A brief comm link check confirms he has no urgent tasks requiring his attention for night's cycle. "Megatron: aware of mission status. No tasks assigned to Soundwave at this time. I will remain for your recharge cycle"  he responds as the doors to his quarters slide open upon their arrival.   

A soft nod comes from his little lover as they lay against him. Their body is exhausted, but their brain isn't willing to shut off. After laying against soundwave for another ten minutes with no luck with falling asleep, they sigh, fidgeting around while trying to get comfortable.

 His vocalizer hums a deep, resonant tone, One digit begins tracing lazy circles on the back, slowly tracing their spinal column, "Systems are monitoring. Please attempt to rest,"  comes another of his recordings.

"Not tired," they whisper while looking up at Soundwave, leaning into his touch, enjoying having him focus on them instead of work. They had both been overrun with work as of recent.

helm tilting minutely as nonverbal concern radiates through his plating.  " Do you require distraction from responsibilities through additional stimuli?"  

They sit up resting on Soundwave's lower torso, hands spread out across the Decepticons chassis. "I am tired, horny and frustrated, soundwave, and with  everything happening, when we get even a small amount of time together, you get called away," they mumble. 

 Soundwave cycles a calm ventilated sigh, processing their words. His field pulses with understanding and care for their concerns. "Your doubts are logical. However, my function is to maximise efficiency of all personnel. A brief interface encounter now could provide valuable recharge. I will ensure we are not disturbed."  His field and plating radiate gentle invitation. 

 A soft gasp escapes their lips as soundwave pulls them further up his body. The Decepticon's digits caressing their body. Leaning in closer, they press their lips to his visor.  A low hum resonates from Soundwave's vocoder. One digit trails tenderly down a flank as another cradles them, holding their form against plating of his chest as a loud purring sound vibrates from him.  

A small squeal leaves their lips as Soundwave discards their clothing quickly with nimble digits. Dimming the lights, Soundwave carefully lowers his battle-mask with a soft hiss, His purple optics glow softly in the darkness, as a talon traces down his lovers form, tracing patterns into their skin.

Leaning close 'til his ex-vents whisper against skin, Pressing a gentle kiss to willing lips in silent promise, he commits this moment to memory. A soft content sigh falls from the human's lips as they kiss him back. It's slightly awkward but neither cares at that moment.

Soundwave runs soft kisses along their neck, chest, and hips as he brings them closer.

At the human's content sigh, gentle pulses from his plating as cooling ex-vents whisper against sensitised skin, his touches trailing softly yet deliberately to relax tense muscles and ease away lingering worries. 

As Soundwave’s glossa finds its way between their legs, soft moans fall from their lips. Small hands move to grip his helm. "Soundwave." At the human's soft calling of his name, Soundwave rumbles acknowledgment against flesh, his servos gripping hips to hold them steady as he runs his glossa across their needy sex. drinking in their essence, committing every hitch of their breath, and fluttered responses to permanent memory files saved only for him. 

As warmth spreads within the human's pliant frame, Soundwave's field surges in adoring pulses, lips, and glossa blessing willing flesh in turn as his devotion shows through electronic hums and tender strokes. Their head rolls back as their back arches, soft whines leaving them with each stroke of Soundwave’s Glossa as it presses into their sweet form. "Soundwave, please," they whine out, their hands attempting to pull the mech's face closer. 

At their breathless plea, Soundwave rumbles acknowledgment, Talons gently part willing thighs as his glossa delves with new focus, oral prehensors savouring each hitching gasp and soft cry his ministrations draw forth. As warmth peaks within the willing human, Soundwave dedicates all sensors to saturating their body. It doesn't take long for them to reach release, so much pent up energy, stress and frustration slips away as they go boneless in the Decepticon's hands. Soft pants leaving their parted lips as soundwave cleans up the mess with his mouth. Gentle affectionate rumbles leave him, field swelling with pulses of devotion and gratitude as he cleans every trace of pleasures with care. His glossa traces tender after-touches as their body goes lax in his hold. 

Optics remain darkened as he simply dedicates sensors to monitoring each slowing ventilation and relaxing muscle, wishing only to ensure their full tranquillity. Soundwave raises his helm to cradled hips,kissing it lightly and nuzzling farewell against flushed skin beneath laboured breaths, inhaling the musk of their sex and skin. 

A final hum resounds through his plating, and powerful yet delicate digits stroke through human hair with utmost care. his array's interface plaque shifts aside, hisses open and pressurises his spike.Optics flare softly to gaze upon at his lover's relaxed features. Secured in cradling servos and pulsing field, the human's lax yet willing frame I'd slowly pressed against his body, content simply to maintain sensory contact,

soft whines fall From his human's lips, as they take him in their body stretching with a loud moan. A few soft thrusts are all it takes for Soundwave to settle into them, cradling their body close, At his lovers soft sounds of pleasure, Soundwave rumbles gentle reciprocation, cradling their sated form securely against his form with one arm as his other arm retrieves a datapad

Ever once in a while his optics flicker down to monitoring his partner's relaxation even as his digits skillfully operate the pad's controls. Data streams across the display - ship schematics, translation algorithms, delicate encryption sequences - yet his true focus remains solely on the human resting atop his array. 

Here in isolated peace, all doubts dissolve. His frame supports theirs. Tired eyes slowly drift closer as soft breath even out, indicating they had fallen asleep, small hands are spread out across his chassis, their body moving slightly with each breath they take. This was true contentment. At the human's soft, steady ex-vents and relaxing muscles, Soundwave's field cycles in waves of tranquil pulsations, a digit gently strokes their hair, back and shoulders as his embrace holds them securely. 

“rest well little one” his voice mumbles softly for no one to hear but himself. 

#transformers #transformers x human #transformers x reader #transformers prime #soundwave tfp #soundwave transformers #soundwave #soundwave x reader #Soundwave x human #valveplug

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Spring Vault Debut: Super Mario Galaxy

Oh boy, a vault! A spring vault! A vault full of goodies and treasures, perhaps? Only one way to find out! Come on, Spring Vault, you have nothing to hide! Open up, and let us inside!

Uh oh, lasers? Those goodies and treasures aren't good or treasured! Nevermind, Spring Vault. You can keep your goodies to yourself. I don't want them and neither does Mario.

This is Spring Vault, from Super Mario Galaxy! I didn't know they were called that, but as it turns out, the wiki didn't until pretty recently either, so I'm not alone. Spring Vaults are a stationary enemy that attack Mario by shooting circular laser beams from a safe distance!

Which raises my first question: are "circular laser beams" even something that can exist? Does light work that way? I wouldn't know! That sounds like a physics question and I know next to nothing about physics because I'm bad at math. I got my degree in Applied Weird Mario Enemies Studies at Wet-Dry World's Wet n' Wild Wuniversity.

If you can hop over Spring Vault's possibly impossible circular laser beams, then you can jump on Spring Vault to reveal the real treasure: Spring! Jump on Spring Vault with the spring revealed, and you can get some impressive vertical, bringing Jump Man to heights never before thought to be possible...

Don't worry too much about breaking the Funny Robot though. If you leave it undisturbed for long enough, it'll fix itself by Recalibrating Its Spring Senors or some other vaguely technological-sounding mumbo jumbo. I don't know anything about computers either! I'm writing this post on a stone tablet!

If you're familiar with your Weird Mario Enemies, you may note that Spring Vault looks similar to the Topmen from the same game, especially the Spring Topman, which loses out on its laser functionality to let you enjoy Springing on the go! But just as the Topman is a whole family of enemies, Spring Vault has a bit of a family of its own, which I'll cover beneath the cut!

First up, we have the Sentry Garage, which is probably the closest relative of the Spring Vault. Sentry Garages are a similarly stationary enemy that can be jumped on to reveal the spring within, but instead of shooting out lasers, they shoot Topminis! I'd make another joke about the miracle of childbirth, but the name suggests these are just a Topmini storage unit...

Sentry Garage looks like a pretty stylish place to keep your Topminis, but if a plumber comes by and spins them into next Thursday, don't say I didn't warn you!

Sadly, Sentry Garage is about as interesting as the Spring Vault family gets, because the rest of these are more "obstacle" than enemy. Like Ring Beamer, for example! No eyes or anything. Just a bunch of spikes. But sea urchins have no eyes and a bunch of spikes, and they're awesome, so maybe we should extend the same love to Ring Beamer. Make it feel loved. Make it feel like part of a family.

It's not trying to make you feel like part of a family though! Lasers? Spikes? Everything Ring Beamer does is a pretty clear indicator to Stay Away!

Up next we have the Ball Beamers, but you can call them Banjo and Kazooie, because they have Nuts and Bolts! Like the Ring Beamer, these are more obstacle than enemy, but unlike Ring Beamer, they don't have spikes or anything. This makes them safe for Mario to stand on, but it also means you can't compare them to sea urchins as much. You win some, you lose some.

They're still not completely safe though, because you know. Circular laser beams.

The thing is, whether they're an Enemy or Obstacle, Nintendo must have really fallen in love with the Ring Beamer family, because they've kept making new variants in subsequent 3D Mario games! Meet Ring Burner, introduced in Super Mario 3D World! Rather than lasers, this one shoots fire, but otherwise it has the same basic attack patterns.

Or at least it can have the same attack patterns, because some Ring Burners shoot fire in squares instead! Haven't you heard? It's hip to be square! This feels like it goes against the name, but oh well. Like Ball Beamer, these ones are safe to stand on, and they won't fire while you stand on it. Are they scared? Does Ring Beamer have feelings? Is that skull marking its actual face?

That being said, by the time Super Mario Odyssey came out, "fire" and "being safe to stand on" were out of fashion again, because Pulse Beam brought back the lasers and spikes! Or rather, laser and spike. Pulse Beam thinks having more than one spike is excessive.

Pulse Beam also values its personal space, and as long as you don't disturb it, it won't disturb you. Pulse Beams will only start shooting lasers when hit by Cappy, so leave them be, and they'll leave you be! That being said, their lasers can clear out other small enemies, so it might be good to activate them if you're getting overwhelmed...

But be careful! Pulse Beams tend to activate other Pulse Beams, so once one goes off, you'll probably have to deal with a few. Time your jumps well, and you should be A-OK.

But hold on, what if I were to tell you that the Ring Beamer family wasn't restricted to the Mario franchise...?

Happy Tunky Tuesday, because thinking so much about circular laser beams you gotta hop over reminded me of the Wave Breaker from Splatoon 3! This special weapon uses basically the same attack pattern, releasing circular shockwaves you need to jump over to avoid getting damaged, and since this is a competitive shooter, getting hit by the Wave Breaker also puts a target on your back, letting everyone on the enemy team know your exact location! Imagine, getting doxxed by a cup and ball toy. Those Splatoons have it rough.

Clearly the Splatoon 3 developers fell in love with this mechanic, because it shows up even in other game modes, with DJ Octavio's boss fight, the Amped Octostamp, and the Big Shot from Salmon Run using the exact same shockwave mechanics. The sheer scope of Ring Burner's influence can not be understated!

It's weird that talking about a Funny Spring Laser Enemy from Super Mario Galaxy eventually led me to talking about a different franchise in a different genre, but it's apparent Nintendo has fallen in love with this sort of obstacle. Gosh, Nintendo, if you love Circular Laser Beams You Need To Jump Over so much, why don't you marry them?

...I can be Spring Vault/Ring Beamer/Ring Burner/Wave Breaker/the rest's bridesmaid if they need one! I promise!

#spring vault #super mario galaxy #mario #mario enemies #mod hooligon

[lightwing-s]

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊__ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐏𝐓 𝐈𝐈

pairing: jason todd x villain! fem! reader

summary: they should hate each other, but from how long they each stay on the other's mind, they clearly were not paying attention to that. they took I'll fuck you in the complete opposite direction.

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

word count: oh god 6,8k warnings: smut, unprotected sex, chocking, dirty talk, oral sex, foreplay, language

a/n: so yeah, here's finally to part 2! thank you to every single message i got about pt 1, i was so overwhelmed by the response to it that i had to make some time to wrap up the story. also, special thanks to @igotanidea for being the most supportive person I've ever met online and for handling me breaking down over this week while trying to finish this post. to you i owe so much ♡ a/n 2: guys, pls, go easy on me as this was my first attempt at writing smut. so so sorry if this ends up looking ridiculous lol

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

pt i

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

For the past 48 hours, Jason had been absentmindedly searching for Y/n. Searching for signs that everything that happened two nights ago was real, and not just a product of his imagination.

Two mornings ago, he woke up confused, not knowing exactly where he was or how he had gotten there in the first place. He woke up in his brother's living room, laying in his brown leather sofa, shirt missing and head banging from pain, with the extra addition of the sun beaming its morning rays straight into his eyes. 

Handing him a cup of warm milk, Dick filled in on how he found him passed out on top of an abandoned building, just as the sun was coming up in the horizon and he was ready to drop his vigilante outfit for the night. According to him, he was already missing his shirt then, his broken helmet was beside his body, and he was the only thing in the otherwise completely empty building, not even his motorcycle in his line of sight. He couldn’t figure out what had happened to Jason earlier, and he only wondered just how the hell did he get there?

Jason couldn’t offer him an explanation, though. 

He had a hunch of just who had put him there. But he wasn’t sure. Everything that happened that night, the kisses, the touches, they couldn’t just not be real. They had to have happened, the memories were too clear in his mind for it to be just a dream. It felt too real to be just a hallucination.

It had to be real, or someone had been playing with his mind way too well. The Mad Hatter is known for his devices, Ivy had been on the loose for a while. Or his mind had simply just acquired the skills to produce extremely realistic scenarios in his head, better than any porn he had watched recently.

That or he was just too addicted to Y/n.

It felt massively wrong. Like he was committing the worst of sins, or something like that, he wasn’t really religious to understand. She was a thief, a villain, someone he was supposed to hate and fight against, throw her in jail and never think of her again until she eventually fled Blackgate just like every other criminal in this god damned city. 

But here he was. Standing atop some old factory in Gotham, heavy traffic not flowing just below him, while he looked for any clues or indications she was still around. 

Someone just radioed GCPD that there’s a drug trade going on in Tricorner Island, he heard through the coms.

I overheard two guys talking about it. Oracle, send me the location, I’m on my way.

Just did it, Robin. Nightwing, how’s north Gotham doing?

Er… Going, his brother answered through the sounds of grunts and punches.

Where’s  Jason? Haven’t heard of him all night and…

Before Barbara could say anything else, Jason turned off the coms, not wanting anything else adding up to his bad temper. He didn’t even know why he had come to patrol tonight, as fighting crime was the last thing he had on his mind. Returning his gaze to the traffic below, he let his thoughts wander elsewhere.

The loud sounds of honks and engines reverberated in the air, with the screams of angry drivers rushing their ways home to rest for the night playing along. The muffled sound of an ambulance siren got lost in the distance, hopefully driving someone with a chance of survival to Gotham General Hospital. All of those noises entered Jason’s ear on one side and left on the other, seemingly going unnoticed by the tall man. It was like he wasn’t there. Physically he was standing on top  of that building, mentally he was somewhere else. Where, he didn’t know. With whom, though, he had a clear answer. 

She had been missing from the streets for a while, but very much present in his mind. Cupid, Y/n, or whatever she went by, lived in his thoughts. The whole entire day, every second he wasn’t busy with something, he was thinking of her. And for that he was a goddamned loser.

Fortunately, or not, he was constantly thinking of something else he was missing too. His precious motorcycle had been MIA since the incident, and was, for some reason, untraceable by the Cave’s systems. Not riding it for two full days was getting to his nerves, and added to the agonizing feeling he had been under lately. 

Riding was his therapy, the cure for every troubled time he went through. There was no anxiety attack, no emotional turmoil, no stupid  fight with Bruce that couldn’t be erased by a 100 mph drive along Gotham’s damp streets. Not doing so made him feel like at any moment, anything, even the smallest of words, could make him explode.

Alone, he sometimes could hear the roaring of the V4 engine coming from nowhere. He’d look left and right, searching for it, but finding nothing. Loud, explosive, distinguishable. A hallucination, a very realistic hallucination. Very real. Very… Real?

Speeding up the road, he saw it. Cutting through the traffic, dodging cars and other vehicles, he recognized his motorcycle making its way in his direction. It was it, he was sure. There was no universe where he couldn't identify his favorite thing in the world, even from  afar. Moving closer to the parapet, almost flying over it, he tried to get a glimpse of who was riding it, but if anyone asked he’d have a guess.

Her. It had to be.

Whoever was on it was dressed all in black, and as it got closer he saw the same jacket he had seen two nights before. Hooded just like his. And, as the vehicle drove past him, the dark helmet turned, looking directly at him. As if she knew he was there. As if she knew he was waiting.

She definitely knew. She knew pretty well all his movements at this point, understood him well enough. How she learned all that, how to manipulate him like this, he didn’t know, but he knew her intentions. As much as she knew him, he got to know about her. She knew he’d recognize his motorcycle  anywhere, and she knew he’d want it back. 

So, somehow, he followed her.

The neighborhood he found himself in was dark, the streets were wet and the air was humid. Light rain had just started pouring down on him, as he followed the trails left by the mucky tires of his bike, leading him further down the road. He should’ve been more careful, hiding in the corners and studying the place before making his way in. But tonight he simply couldn’t, all sense of carefulness completely gone, being replaced by hot tempered decision making. 

Jason arrived at an old abandoned parking garage. The first two floors were empty, dark and smelled of mold and trash. Climbing the ramps to the last floor, though, he spotted the red motorcycle right in the middle of the lot, parked and with its light still on, blinding anyone who’d go in its direction. They stopped him from seeing much else in the area, but considering that the only sound he could hear was from his own boots hitting the concrete floor, he quickly understood he was also alone.

His footsteps echoed through the walls, the muddy lines left by the tires beside him. As he reached the vehicle, for the first time in days, he felt a portion of tension that he was holding onto for a long time, leaving his body. With a heavy sigh in relief, he turned off the lights before quietly caressing the scarlet tank, the leather seat,  admiring his most faithful partner in its long awaited return.

“I took good care of her, don’t worry” he heard someone say. Startled, he lifted his head from where it was looking down, and instantly recognizing the voice, he searched for the source of the heavenly sound.

Then, he found her.

Resting against a concrete column at a far end, Y/n watched the outside, the falling rain and the night sky. Where she stood, the moonlight hit her precisely, like a spotlight in a play, like the moon knew no one else but her. Like she was a favorite. The light made her skin glow, her eyes sparkle. It made her look like a goddess.

He didn’t remember her ever looking this good. Maybe he was too blind by anger he didn’t notice, or there was something different tonight. He knew she was pretty, really pretty for that matter. But he was still so intoxicated from last time, so captivated, bewitched. Looking at her now, he knew getting rid of her thoughts would only get harder. Damn it!

Wearing a similar outfit to the one she wore on the underground, he noticed her jacket was open, and a silver necklace decorated her collarbone. The wind blew at her hair,  exposing her chest, her neck, her jaw, her lips. Speechless, Jason stood there, admiring her, for way longer his conscious self would be proud of. 

Following his silence, he heard her chuckle, bringing him back from his land of dirty dreams.

“You took my bike” he simply stated, mentally slapping himself for not being able to form a coherent sentence.

“A bit obvious, isn’t it?” she replied, finally looking in his direction, smirk glued on her glossy lips. Licking his own, he didn’t know how to reply, preferring to thank her for delivering back his vehicle  scratch free. “It wasn’t difficult. I took care of you, didn’t I?”

So it was real, he thought. He wasn’t going crazy. Or was he? One could argue that. Y/n was driving him insane.

“Thank you… for helping me that night” he said. “How did you know I was there?”

“I was following you.” she replied.

“Why?”

Shrugging, she gave him her answer. 

Truthfully, Y/n didn’t know why she was following him that night. After they left the subway tunnels she could have gone home, done with the last favor she owned Cobblepot. However, deep down her mind, he was there. And she worried about him. She knew Penguin well, she knew what he could do. And she didn’t want harm getting in his way. So she followed him.

She wanted to make sure he was alright. Why? God knows why. Y/n doesn’t. Or she refused to admit the real answer.

Jason. The sweet name stuck in her mind since he’d given it to her, and she urged to know what he looked like behind the mask. Put a face to the name, as they say. Did he look as fine as his name sounded? As his voice did? As his body would let on?

“You were pretty quiet these past few days” he said, circling the motorcycle and moving her way.

“I took some time to think.” she replied, returning her gaze to the rain.

“About what?”

“Curious much?” she joked, entertained by his need to get to know her. “About my life. Or what’s left of it”

“Hmm. Could have guessed you were working on another plan.” he joined in with a light joke.

“I got plenty of time for that, too.” she threw him a smile, blinding him for a second. “There’s just so much going on right now. Its…”

“Exhausting?” He cut her. “I guess working with Penguin does that to you”

“I don’t work with him” she threw back at him, her tone a bit sharper.

“For him, with him. It all sounds the same to me.” he said, opening his arms in contemplation.

“You wouldn’t understand,” she said, shaking  her head.

“Then explain it.” he requested. “Why do you do that? Why do you…”

“Steal, rob, trade, cause chaos” she cut him off. “I’m broke”

Pushing herself from the column, she moved to rest her hands on the window opening. The way she licked her lips and shook her head. The way her voice sounded ever so slightly broken. How she uncomfortably shifted on her feet after that comment. It wasn’t much of a choice, her way of life was perhaps the only solution. Jason felt sorry, he wanted to get closer, but he knew to stay away for now.

“I’m fucking broke. My family is gone. I don’t feel like working my ass off all day just to get paid in crumbs. So I decided to take my life in a new direction, and it turns out I’m good at that.”

“I’d say, really good at it.” Jason complimented. 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to enjoy that” Y/n looked at him over her shoulder and, shaking her head, gave him a smile.

Shrugging, he said: “I like a good challenge.”

Jason liked whatever this was much more than the angry, frustrated talks they had while chasing each other. It was light, fun. He could work well with that.

“By the way. I took it for a ride, hope you don’t mind” she said, resting her elbows on the short wall, and her cheeks on her hands. “That’s a really, really, sweet ride you have there” 

Gulp. With air tightening at his throat, he opened his helmet, taking it off and placing it on the tank of his bike. Jason's sweaty hair stuck to his face, cheeks still puffed from the heat after running all the way to the parking deck. 

That’s something I would like to take a sweet ride on, Y/n thought, but shook it away as soon as possible.

“What was that?” Jason asked her.

“What was what?” she pretended not to know, begging the universe he didn’t notice.

“What were you shaking your head at?” Eyebrows arched, she knew he noticed. “Like what you see?”

“You’ve been staring at my boobs from the moment you got here and I haven’t commented a thing” she said, turning her face so he couldn’t see her cheeks growing red.

Raising his hands in defeat, Jason tried to change topics.

“It was custom made.” he explained.

“Then you’ll have to tell me who did it, because I might be interested in getting one myself”

“I built it” Jason proudly informed. “It took me a while, but I got it done just how I wanted.”

“Wow” she moved one more time, facing him fully now, and crossing her arms over her chest. “You must be great working with your hands then”

Looking down, Jason stared at his own hands. Calloused, with a few bruises here and there, and desperate to have them exploring all over her. “I have my talents.”

“I see.”

A moment of silence followed. Not awkward, not tense. Just quiet, as both tried to stray their eyes from each other.

“Just don’t put anyone in danger, alright?” was all Jason asked, turning around to leave. 

“So you’re really leaving?” Y/n blurted out, not proud of sounding desperate, but desperately not wanting him gone. “Just like this?”

If he was stupid, he wouldn’t have noticed the slight tint of sadness on her voice, or the light touch of desperation ingrained in it. But he wasn’t, he heard it. And mysteriously, it boosted something deep inside him, an ego he didn’t know he owned.

“I have work” liar.

“Do you?” she questioned, walking in his direction. 

Jason was already mounted on his motorcycle, ready to turn the engine on. But the sight of her getting closer stopped him from doing anything else. He felt trapped somehow, like something was keeping him tied there. But there was no rope, not chains, not guns pointed at him. Just her.

All the way, her eyes never left his, looking at him through seductive eyes, challenging him, inquiring the truth. However, he saw, deep down, they were also begging him to stay. Watching her every move, lips sore from biting, his mouth hung open when, upon reaching him, she crossed her right leg over the tank of his motorcycle, sitting on it.

Her knees touched his thigh, the space between them minuscule. She was close, oh so close to him. His hot breath hit her face, making her eyelashes move. Her own blowing directly at his lips. 

“Do you really have to work tonight?”she questioned him one more time, hands sliding up his tights, eyes hanging low and falling on his lips. His own hands traveling to her waist, as Jason saw himself drawing her even closer. 

“Not if I don't want to” he stated in a breath, voice weak and desperate. He could feel his pants getting tighter, and heat building up from his neck.

“Don’t then” she whispered against his lips, hers dangerously close, almost touching his.

“I won’t” he said, one hand flying to the nape of her neck and finally, finally, closing the space between their mouths.

Ferociously, Jason’s mouth wandered over hers, tongue immediately sliding in. He held strongly at her neck and waist, as her hands laid and caressed at his tights. The kiss was wet, hot, and desperate. He wanted to drown himself on her lips, lose himself in her touches. And Y/n was just as needy, as her hands traveled up and down his tights, and her sweet moans filled Jason’s ears like a soft lullaby.

Lifting her legs over his, tangling them around his waist, she drew her body closer, locking the small gap they still had between them and grinding on his clothed crotch, while her hands dangerously made their way to where he wanted them most. Palming his dick, Y/n let out a surprised gasp, as her small hand barely cupped his size entirely. 

Y/n already expected him to be big. Looking at his body size, it was an easy assumption to make. Sometimes when they met, she would notice the bulge in his pants and spend the rest of the night just thinking about his potential. And, when they were making out on her guest room bed, she could feel just how big he was. 

With Y/n massaging him up and down over his pants, Jason would release deep guttural noises, but never bothered about ever ungluing their mouths. His kiss was sloppy, wetting even her chin. He’d suck at her bottom lip, biting it occasionally. The silvery taste of blood filling his taste buds.

As she tightened her hold on him, he grunted loudly into her mouth. Taking both her wrists with one single hand, he took them away from his crotch and held them tightly behind her back. Lowering her onto the panel, being careful to not hurt her head, he stood on his feet as he dry humped her jeans. The thick fabric of her pants adding to the feeling on her already sensitive clit. WIth her legs still wrapped around his waist, she assisted his movement with some of her own, moaning out his name like a prayer, as nibbled at her neck. 

He kissed his way down her neck, sucking and biting on it, certainly leaving his mark on her skin. Knowing the bruises she would have by the next morning only grew his lust, a sense of power in having her marked as his own. With his big hands, he wrapped them around her breasts, picking at her nipples over her shirt. Y/n moaned, arching her back and exposing her neck even more for him to reach places he couldn’t before. 

He wanted her stained, body covered in purple, as his little art project. He wanted her mindless, no thoughts in her head, drunk from pleasure. He wanted her under his power, dependent, addicted. He wanted her so bad, so good, so wet for him. He wanted to fuck her here and now.

But he had to wait. Against his own nature, he had to stop, before it was too late.

“Get off” he demanded, raspy voice making shivers run down her spine. Pushing away, he unhooked her legs from around him and with the back of his hand, he tried to clean his lips. 

Upon his words, her eyes shot open, confusion and disappointment evident in her irises. Jason had to hold himself as to not fuck her then and there, as she looked fucking desperate for him. Needy of his touch.

“I’m not fucking you on my motorcycle.” he state, handing her his hand to help her off his bike. “I know a way better place for us to go.”

“Are you gonna be able to wait till we get there?” she asked, still breathless from seconds ago.

“You made me wait two days already. I guess I can handle a few more minutes. Can you?” he traded a question, raising one eyebrow at her.

Biting her lips, she rolled her eyes at him and shook her head, looking all messed up still. A part of her told her to go, leaving him hanging with his own ego she knew pretty well was getting inflated by each second she spent under his touch. But her horny side, the one speaking the loudest tonight, just wanted to get its release. 

Climbing over the back of his bike, she wrapped her arms around him, feeling the ripped muscles of his well shaped abdomen, and rested her cheek on his back.

Turning on the engine, he looked at her over his shoulder. “Hold tight”

A fan of speed, Jason had a feeling he had never driven faster. 

All over the city, he had secret hiding spots where he’d store weapons, money, and gadgets he needed for patrol. Small spots, needed mostly for storage and the occasional stitching up after a tough fight. But one of them was larger, his safehouse, built from two stacked up containers at an abandoned port storage lot. Jason considered it almost like a home, being there most of the time while out of patrol and not being busy with his civilian stuff.

He knew it was dangerous to bring her there, she could very well be tricking him, trying to get deep within his skin and rip something out of it. But every ounce of carefulness left his body the moment he crashed his lips to hers.

Parking outside in the dark lot, they climbed out of his vehicle and Y/n waited as he opened the container’s door. Inside, she was surprised by the tidiness of the place, not something she was expecting to see. It was clean and well organized. It contained a small kitchen, a living room and a bedroom on the opposite side to the door.

Y/n curiousness was heightened. This was so different to what she expected his home would be like. She thought he’d be like every other guy she had met, with a messy bedroom, unorganized book shelves, clothes hanging from everywhere. Sure, she hasn’t been with the type of guys that wouldn’t be messy, but his bunker was a very welcome surprise.

A stack of books decorated his coffee table, the only slightly “messy” thing in the entire unit. Taking the one from the top of the pile, Y/n was satisfied to see the early edition of Jane Austen’s Emma among his recent reads.

On the wall, a display showed a series of guns, knives and other weapons, drawing Y/n’s interest in seeing them from up close.

“Admiring the knives, Y/n?” Jason asked, breaking the silence hovering between them since they arrived in the place.

“You have quite the collection.” grabbing a larger knife in her hands, she turned back to him and continued. “No ropes, but knives. I see you’re into some kinky shit, Jason”

“We all have our thing” he didn’t deny. “Fire, isn’t it?”

Y/n liked cocky and fun Jason so much better than the angry annoying one she’d get most nights. Although she enjoyed annoying him, seeing how frustrated he’d get every time they met, this new calm, tranquil version of him was growing in her heart. 

It was hard to admit she had a thing for him, the guy who so desperately wanted to take her behind bars. She didn’t blame him, she knew what she did wasn’t that great. She didn’t have to do it like that, there were other options that wouldn’t have been as “easy”, but wouldn’t certainly get her into this much trouble. But all his trouble led her here, to his home, or she so assumed this unit was.

Almost every night, they’d meet, even if briefly, between all the other chaotic events in the city of chaos Gotham City. And every time they meet, religiously, Y/n would spend the rest of the night with him on her head. There was something about his hooded self, the mystery behind the mask, that attracted her. The fact he would do anything in his power to send her to Blackgate or any other prison added a risk factor that only made him hotter.

Then, she became obsessed. She'd learned his watching spots, always making sure to show up just around the corner. On the day of the Tiffany’s robbery, she knew he was close, and decided to strike before anyone else got close.

She didn’t think he’d like her back though. That night in her apartment came as a very welcoming surprise.

Everything that led to this event came as a surprise too. She was supposed to go home, rest after being done with her last debt to Penguin. But she saw him on her way, tiredly looking beyond at, seemingly, nothing, just waiting for something to happen. And then, she just stood there, watching him under the bridge, watching him fight with the two idiots she had met before at Penguin’s club, and watched him almost getting beat by Solomon Grundy. If she didn’t intervene soon enough, he’d have. But she wouldn’t let him, not under her watch.

Taking him from the floor, she carried his body with much difficulty to her apartment. Not all the way, as she stopped to rob someone’s car to drive him there, ensuring the driver she’d would return the car the very next day. She did, and even left him a thank you letter. 

Bringing him home was a stupid idea. At least at first. But when he looked at his cuts and scratches, she couldn’t help the primordial instinct of taking care of him. And when he looked all hot and needy, and when he kissed her passionately, bringing him home was suddenly the best decision she had made in a while.

But she couldn’t let it happen then. She was a criminal, but she still had a moral code. Don’t steal from the poor, only the rich. Help those around if you can. Don’t fuck anybody with the slightest level of unconsciousness due to alcohol, meds, drugs, or whatever. Basic human ethics everyone should know.

She regretted it, of course, as him doing things to her body were all that clouded her mind the entire day, her hands and toys not doing enough to send those thoughts away.

There was also the thought in the back of her head telling him he only wanted to fuck her because she was “hot”. Sure, maybe she wasn’t the prettiest, or had the hottest body, but it seemed like was more attracted to her than into her. She couldn’t say the same, feeling exactly the opposite. She imagined once he’d fucked her, he’d fuck with her and had her trapped and sent away.

She didn’t want him to break her heart. Yet, where she was now, she was waiting for it.

“Penny for your thots… Er-hm thoughts” he coughed, worrying about her sudden silence.

“Nothing important.” she replied quietly.

“Really?” he questioned again, wanting to be sure she was fine. “Anything I can help with?”

He was walking closer ever so slowly. Reaching her, he set his arms around her, on the same table she was holding herself against, trapping her in place and forbidding her from getting away.

Just fuck me out of this thoughts, she mentaly replied, for some reason too ashamed to say it out loud. 

His face rested mere inches from hers, and she could feel his minty breath once again.

“I want to kiss you” he admitted. “Can I?”

Biting her lower lip seductively, eyes glued on his, Y/n closed the space between them one more time. This turn, though, the kiss was softer, more contained, yet still as hot. His hand flew to caress her cheek with his thumb, palms resting on her jaw and the nape of her neck.

This slower pace, although really enjoyable, from Y/n perspective just wasn't enough. Her underwear felt sticky from the arousal she had earlier, and her core still twitched in desire. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him even closer and speeding up their kiss, becoming slowly as sloppy as it had been before.

He held onto her thighs, wrapping them around his waist. The close contact between their cores heating up their surroundings. She grinded on him, begging for some attention down there, as his lips wandered from her mouth to her neck, leaving bites all along. 

She could feel his hardening member growing inside his pants, the junction of his bulge and the hard fabric causing the friction against her clit to feel even better. Her moans were becoming louder and couldn’t stop fleeing her lips. Jason, on the other hand, kept his composure.

The tables were turned now, and Y/n was the one desperate for release. 

Sliding his large hands under her shirt, he pulls it up her head with ease. He watched her chest heaving under her pink lacy bra, the sight driving him closer to the edge. While he stared, Y/n swiftly slipped her hands down to take off her jeans too, as Jason took the hint and removed his jacket and his shirt too.

Y/n pulled him by his belt, ending their distance to kiss him once more. His hands flew to her boobs, tightening his hold and playing with her hardened nipples. Slowly, he made his way down to the valley of her breast, kissing and sucking every inch of skin he could find. Looking up, they locked eyes, Jason making sure to not look away as he pulled the cloth covering her tit with his own teeth.

The sight couldn’t have been sexier, Y/n not noticing the moan she let out just at that. 

Mouth clashing against her soft skin, Jason sucked violently on one boob as his hand played with the other, causing Y/n’s head to roll back and hit the knife display on the wall. Her sudden move dropped a few of his knives onto the table, but they couldn’t have cared less, both letting out breathy laughs over the incident.

When he felt he was done with her breasts, he licked his way down belly, sending shivers down her spine. When he reached the waistline of her panties, Y/n’s breath hitched. The hot air from his breath hitting her core. She watched him attentively, waiting for his next move.

“I can smell how excited you are, Y/n” he commented, eyes glued to her core. “I wonder how you’d taste like”

Y/n had to hold tight onto the table to not let out a scream, Jason’s warm tongue sending jolts of electricity up her spine. He licked up and down her folds, one stroke at a time, driving Y/n nuts from impatience. He noticed her despair, and he enjoyed it thoroughly, slowing his pace even more, taking his sweet time licking at her clit.

“Jay…” Y/n begged, a hand moving to grasp at his hair.

“Pantience, sweetheart.” he mumbled between her tights.

“P-please”

Deciding to attend to her pleas just this once, Jason shoved his face down her soppy pussy, tongue moving at a much faster pace. Y/n’s legs went instinctively to rest over his shoulders, and he grabbed them tight to keep her trembling body from moving. Y/n’s lower abdomen twitched, as Jason devoured her intimacy like a hungry man. 

Jason was focused, himself enjoying every moment he spent licking her cunt. Sometimes he would give some much needed attention to her clit, and watch her squirm and shake above him. Her warmth overcoming him, her liquids sliding down his jaw, face all wet from her pleasure.

“Ah, you’re doing so good!”

“We’re just starting, Yn.”

And dropping her legs down, he stood up from the floor, shin glistering. Confusion and disappointment much more evident on Y/n face this time, frustrated with being so close to release. 

Jason breaks them apart, Y.n’s head rolling backwards immediately, as she begged for air. For a few seconds, he took some time  to admire her pose, boobs hanging out, face crunched from pleasure. But he didn’t waste any time before shoving his mouth on her nipples, drawing a surprised scream from the back of her throat.

“W-why did you stop?” she asked under heavy breaths.

“C’mon Y/n. I’ve never been easy on you. What made you think I was gonna do it this time?”

A smirk on his face, he spread her weak legs apart and stood in the middle, cupping her cheeks and leaning in for a kiss. Y/n could taste herself in his tongue, his soaked face staining her own with her juices.

“Do you wanna go to Blackgate?” he suddenly asked. Not understanding a thing, Y/n just stared at the muscular guy ahead. “Answer me Y/n. Do you wanna go to Blackgate?”

Y/n just shook her head.

“Good” he said, giving her a chaste kiss. Reaching behind her back, Jason grabbed one of the fallen knives. “I guess you won't be needing this tonight”

Gliding the blade carefully up her tights, Jason cut her panties and with a swift movement threw them aside. He grabbed the back of her legs and wrapped them on his waist, propping her up to carry her to his bed.

As she laid in his bed, exposed and vulnerable, she took some time to admire his strong body. Ripped muscles modeled his arms and abdomen, and basically every body part she landed her eyes on. Standing at the edge of the bed, staring her down while holding a knife, he looked dangerous and borderline frightening.

“Tonight, Y/n, I’ll be giving you a sentence.”

Slapping hard at her cunt, Jason’s hand massaged her clit with his thumb as two fingers slid inside of her. “And you’ll leave here a good, reformed citizen”

Y/n couldn’t hold back the loud moans that escaped her mouth. Arching her back, she screamed his name like a prayer. Hands grabbing onto the bed sheets, Y/n saw her mind go blank with her first orgasm of the night.

“Such a good girl”

As Y/n heaved and panted, trying to ease her breath, she listened to the sound of his belt falling to the floor. When she looked up to face him, Jason was  stroking his dick, grunting by himself as he watched her struggle to keep herself together. She observed his red tip drip with pre cum, her tongue instinctively hanging out.

“Do you wanna lick?”

She nodded innocently, moving to stand closer, but he pushed her back to fall on the bed again. 

“No. Not tonight.” pulling her to him, he slapped his dick on her soft cunt, teasing her entrance with his own tip. “Tonight I’m fucking you”

With one hard movement, Jason slipped his entire length inside of Y/n. She cried out his name, as his thickness stretched mercilessly, the sharp sensation causing tears to form in her eyes. He thrusted hard into her, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the room.

“Oh, god. F-fuck!” she cried out.

He held her tight for support, pulling her and he pumped his cock deeper, getting lost in the warm sensation of being wrapped inside her tight wet cunt. 

“Sweetheart, you’re so fucking tight. You’re making me feel so good.”

He watched her clothed tits jumping up, and angrily removed her last clothing item from her body. Palming her breast, he played with them as his thrusts started getting sloppier. H could finally feel his frustrations fading away with every thrust, and as she sang out his name he could feel his release getting closer. 

With one last hard thrust, he pushed himself out.

“Turn around” he demanded, and she quickly obeyed.

His hard hand hit her ass, surprising her and drawing out a loud cry. He slid his hand once more between her folds, watching her tremble under his touch.

“Jason, please, please. Just make me cum”

“Not yet, princess” he warned, as she cried in complaint, but as he kept stroking her clit she came undone on his fingers. “Tsc tsc tsc. I told you not yet.”

“I’m s-sorry, Jay. I just couldn’t… you were making me feel s-so good. Aah”

Jason pushed her head down onto the mattress, holding her in place by the neck.

“You better keep yourself together. Or do you want me to send you to Blackgate right after we’re done”

“No, please”

“Then wait till I let you cum” she nodded her head, tears soaking the bed.

He lined himself at her entrance once more, teasing it with his tip and he felt her cum melting on his tip. Snatching her hands from where they were supporting her up, he held them fiercely behind her back, as he made his way deep inside of her.

His cock hit heavily at her cervix. Her wall is tightening around him, sucking him even deeper. He was losing himself on her while he fucked her dumb. After so long trapped in intrusive thoughts and in unholy dreams, Jason felt in heaven. He grunted out her name, thankful for choosing a safehouse so far from everybody.

His thrust were getting clumsy, his dick missing entrance her a few times. As she placed him back where she wanted him most, she thrusted back, giving him a moment to rest before returning his moves once again.

“Jay” she whispered out. “I getting close”

“Shhh. Not now, baby. Just a little bit more.”

Grabbing her by the neck, he yanked her up to meet his chest. Her head rolled back to rest on his shoulders as he gained speed, the new position making him hit her favorite spot. Y/n cried out in his ears, when he fingered her clit for a third time.

He bit and sucked on the skin of her shoulder, holding back moans of his own.

“Jay, I-i” she tried to speak, but he cut her off by crashing his lips to hers. Still clutching her neck, he sucked on her tongue as he felt her nail dig into his ass.

“I’m almost there” he announced, sucking on earlobe. “Just tell me. Tell me you’ll stop.”

His drive never seeming to slow down, he requested, voice muffled her neck. he requested. 

“Tell me you stop stealing, robbing, dealing. Tell me you’ll stop, then I’ll let you come”

“I’ll stop. Yes, please. I’ll stop, I’ll stop. Jason, please let me come.”

“Look me in the eye tell me this again. Like you mean it” he demanded, capturing her chin and moving her look him deep in the eye.

“I’ll stop. I’ll be a good girl… just for you.”

Jason’s hands rubbed her harder, his thrusts making her mind go blank from ecstasy as her body melted onto his. The know below his stomach coming undone as he filled her with his seed, her own orgasm makes her body spasm against his hold.

Riding out his high, he pushed in at a much slower pace. Leaving butterfly kisses on her back as he lowered them both to rest on the mattress.

When he pulled out, Y/n groaned, already missing the sensation of him filling her up.

After cleaning themselves, Jason watched her back rising and falling, breathing finally even , her eyes closed as she laid on her belly. It wasn’t a sight he expected to see anytime soon, or ever, really. But he was glad to be seeing it, he was glad she was here. With him.

Getting back on the bed, he pulled her and hugged her from behind. He laid a soft kiss behind her ear, hearing the quiet sound of her breath.

“Do you bring many of his villains here?” she gently asked.

“Only the potentially dangerous ones.”

“I hope you have tapped your night with the Joker then. I’d be really interested in watching that”

Throwing his head back, Jason blurted out laughing. Y/n’s heart beat faster at the sound, wishing to hear it more often.

“Relax. He didn’t catch my attention like you.” he confessed, returning to leave kisses on her skin, something he found himself addicted to. “No one did.”

“Good!” she said, and she tightened his hold onto her middle. “I don’t want your attention anywhere else.”

. tag list (i can't believe i've got one of those lmao, thank you so much for the love you've given this story ♡

@dolliezxo @stevesdick @miraculous-panic @kk00789 @alecmoress @parkjammys @biggetywitch @jasontodd-artemisgrace4life @dakotali @theendofthematerialgworl

#jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd scenarios #jason todd smut #jason todd #jason todd fanfiction #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood #red hood smut #jason todd x female reader

[a-d-nox]

pluto in aquarius: a prediction of what's to come

this is a huge astrological event, pluto is moving into aquarius for the first time since the late 1700s. last time pluto was in aquarius america fought for independence from britain, uranus was discovered, the french revolution began, the bill of rights was ratified, etc.

so for day one, i want to create predictions of what is to come!

some house matters!!!

TWO PLUTO RETROGRADES WILL OCCUR - june 11th - jan 20th, 2024 is the first so we won't see too much wildness just yet as pluto will return into capricorn during this time and THE FINAL RETROGRADE BACK INTO CAPRICORN will be september 1st, 2024 - november 19th, 2024. then we are full steam ahead with pluto in aquarius until march 9th, 2043.

i personally am NOT a witch or anything wild, everything i am saying is purely theoretical - it is not fated to happen just because i am saying it. i am simply socially aware. i know what's up generally in the world today and what was up in world in the 1700s - "history typically repeats itself."

i live in the usa so my post likely will be slightly more focused there examples wise so i apologize in advance! feel free to comment, dm, or reblog with other examples from your country based on my prediction key phrases.

i am going to start light and get darker so mentally prepare yourself for that (tw: STI/STD outbreaks, war, 9/11, COVID-19, and other abrasive topics that may make people uncomfortable depending on where they are currently reading from) - but we are talking about pluto so... expect the unexpected?!

let's do this.

renewable energy sources

aquarius is electricity, light, inventions, electronics, telephones, televisions, etc while pluto can be change! i recently bought a new tv and the back of the remote has a solar panel instead of a battery pack. i do believe we will see more evolution with technology; perhaps we will see solar changed phones! otherwise pluto is also pollution and natural disasters - the climate is in crisis mode perhaps we will see more responsibility and thus changes in our sourcing of energy! example: recently i read that japan has a great source of geothermal energy. currently the conversion to using this source (instead of coal, gas, and nuclear energy) is being held up by a higher up in the hot spring business who claims switching to a new energy system "threatens centuries-old traditions" (bang - a capricorn term - tradition - so perhaps after the retrogrades are through we will see a major shift in energy sourcing).

general technological advancements/inventions

last time pluto was in aquarius the cotton gin was invented; which aided in quicker production of goods and higher demand for american cotton. i strongly believe this is a general indicator that AI is going to become an even bigger part of day to day life. i have seen AI already replace those who take orders in the panera drive thru, there is a higher demand for philosophy/english grads to help teach AI, etc. aquarius is also new teachers/occupations so AI could become the new teachers OR new careers could be coming in the area of interacting with AI generally so it gains more consciousness. so it could be AI or it could be something else that is only just a dream in the back of someone's mind at this moment in time.

altruistic extremists

we may see utopian dreamers rise up! they are likely to advocate for the deconstruction of pre-existing political institutions in favor of either self governance or egalitarian policies. they will likely do whatever it takes to make this statement; we may see more protests / political statements similar to wynn bruce's.

fanatical/extremist announcers radio/tv

we already have biased stations and channels (fox, abc, cnn, nbc, etc). we are likely to see a further rise in politically biased newscasters and announcers.

demonization of astrology

astrology is aquarian in nature but pluto is fanatics, evil, demonics, etc. the community has been saying about the next world war for a while now. we are moving out of conservative pluto in capricorn, so we may find that those of deep belief systems accusing us [astrologers] of conspiring with the devil if/when something militant arises (similar to how the tarot community gets told constantly by christians that they must be satanists).

something with birds

i don't have this nailed down yet specifically, but both aquarius and pluto are rulers of birds. aquarius is large birds while pluto is wading/swamp birds and/or flesh eating birds. no one freak out and start thinking that i am indicating something like the 1963 horror film the birds. if anything i can see more bird-spread illness and/or parasites. OR pluto can be archaeology! there may be a bird related discovery or something to do with the distant relative of the bird - aka the raptor (dinosaur related).

a new STI/STD discovery/outbreak

aquarius represents the distribution of bodily fluids while pluto is often representative of sexual activity. this could either be an outbreak because pluto can be death, extremes, catastrophes, and/or casualties OR pluto can be ph balance in the body (possible new discoveries for feminine sexual health), kidneys (perhaps a discovery will be linked to the diminished functionality associated with syphilis, hiv, etc and how to combat more symptomatic issues), and even purification (aka a cure perhaps to help viral carriers to no longer pass the sti/std to sexual partners).

collapse of congress / house of commons/representatives

i mean it only stands to reason that the bill of rights was created/approved last time pluto was in aquarius that either those rights will disappear (pluto also represents dictators) OR simply the people rise up and demolish the institution as it stands: "...whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government..."

airplane catastrophes

aquarius rules over planes and pluto can represent accomplices, catastrophes, casualties, b0mbs, and t3rr0r!sm. we may experience another event similar to 9/11 OR we may see air strikes in a potential world war 3 scenario.

societal change: crime, war, leadership, and more

world war 3 is on the horizon so say pluto in aquarius (probably in the wake of election year in the US - when the final retrograde into capricorn concludes). but this could also just be governmental restructuring - this could be seen as rebellions (similar to the French Revolution), the rise of organized crime if good become more scarce, religious shifts (pluto is the antichrist, aquarius is freewill (first amendment), and capricorn is the old church (christian schools of thought)), etc.

aquarian terms i can't think of change in but seem important to note / keep in mind: freethinkers, hamburg germany, heart weakness (biden - perhaps the early death of a president in office?), motion picture (already changing as more theaters close), photography, psychology (we are already starting to care more about everyone's mental health), science (general scientific discoveries?), social affairs (there is always something going on - the question is how big will this be?), society, sweden, syria, and xray.

plutonian terms i can't think of change in but seem important to note / keep in mind: abductions (aliens - ufo sights?), aliases, alibis (governmental riffing similar to how no plan was in place when for COVID-19), assass!nat!0n (hopefully not), betrayal, bootlegging (bootleg tiktok if america bans it?), cemeteries (removal of that method if too many are dying at any giving time - mass graves?), convicts (prison release due to overcrowding? the mega-prison of el salvador?), corruption (governmental likely?), demolitions, earthquakes (more environmental issues?), electrocution, executions (war?), fanatic, extremes, floods (environmental? emigration - society is aquarius after all?), liars, massacres (the rise of crime?), murder, nihilism (the rise of philosophy at the time of war?), ransom (war?), satire (rise of political satire?), stolen goods, and taxes (trump-esque no?).

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#astrology #astro community #astro chart #astro placements #natal chart #pluto #pluto in capricorn #pluto in aquarius #astrology transits #retrograde #pluto retrograde

[nikki-tine]

Pretty hastily slapped together, but here's a comm sheet for those who were wondering about the prices in my pinned post! I'm a little nervous about taking comms from social media again, but I'm open to it as my family needs the money so often now...

More recently, I've taken to working on iPad - this will be a more common thing as the summer months roll around and it becomes too stuffy to stick to my PC for working on art.

Here's what I CAN do, for the moment:

Cute, simple designs - Pokemon and simple (rookie-level or earlier) Digimon are a strong suit of mine, but if you have a wonderfully simple OC I can work with too then it'll do!

Cats. I loooove drawin' cats! If you have a Warriors OC, chances are I can draw em.

Fluffy stuff overall! (As long as it's simple enough, obviously - Fluff is another comfort thing I looove to work with. This means literal fluffy stuff like fuzzy animals/critters, and figurative fluff like cuddles and tickles!)

Sans!! (No seriously, I funkin love drawin' sans. If you got a Sans I can draw, I will happily draw him!)

Here's what I CAN'T do, for the moment, on the other hand:

NSFW art (This is because a) there's minors who follow this blog - I have to keep that stuff away (and keep them safe)! and b) I'm not ready to take NSFW commissions, and probably won't be a for a while.)

Heavy gore and themes (It's a lot to work with, and it's not something I personally dabble in if at all, so the result would NOT be to your liking if I tried more than likely lol)

Intricate Detail (I have my reasons for this! My wrist has been acting up more often in the last few years and so intricate detail is... overwhelming for me, right now, outside of personal work. It's just not a strong suit of mine, as much as I'd love it to be - it's not quite a part of the art style as it is right now.)

Added notes:

- I have the right to decline a commission if it either makes me uncomfortable to work with it or otherwise is overwhelming. That is to say, if one artist can't achieve what you're looking for then usually that's an indicator to hold onto your money for a bit until you find the right person!

I send the paypal link at the halfway point (the sketch, just before lineart) normally - but if you want to pay upfront, then please let me know. (I don't wait until the piece is completely done as a safety measure to ensure the person commissioning me doesn't nab the piece and run lol)

I CANNOT REFUND ONCE THE COMMISSION IS PAID FOR. The money goes STRAIGHT into family-related necessities like bills and groceries, and I absolutely CANNOT afford to return money when we are consistently struggling to even get food for the house, nevermind commissions. (It's also just kinda mean?? :c)

I am on commission burnout - what this means is that my work may take longer than usual to get done, but I hold to my word that I get it done no matter how long it takes. If you need the piece done as priority, then make sure you specify when giving the details for your commission! (I do best, however without a time limit or deadline to work with.)

As of right now, I'm practically (metaphorically) crying for simple designs due to this burnout! I need something I can just fly through to get done so I don't stress myself out further on a queue that's been waiting to be done for a hot second.

#If y'all need to check if my comms are open please remember to check my pinned post first before asking in DMs or asks! #art #nikki-tine #commissions #comm sheet #commission sheet #commission details #chibies #chibi art #digital art #sfw tickling community #sfw tickle community #commission work

[wyattjohnston]

never said a thing - pierre luc dubois

summary: everyone knows that luc wants a trade... you're just the only person he hasn't told directly.

word count: 2,667

main character: gender neutral reader

note: this is a very very late pinch hitter fic for @pcttymcrlecu as part of the summer fic exchange 2k23. thank you for your patience!

i had to fudge the timeline because i didn't realise luc's trade request happened post-season. i really feel like it happened before the trade deadline

You’d known about Luc’s trade requests before you met him—the entire city of Winnipeg, the province of Manitoba and the entire NHL fan base knew. It was inescapable, just like it had been when he was moved to Winnipeg after requesting a trade out of Columbus.

You were happier about the first one, less so about the second and that only got worse as time went on and the official third one came.

Meeting Luc wasn’t anything you’d planned but had still taken longer than you’d expected it to. Winnipeg wasn’t small, though it certainly wasn’t the largest city, and everyone seemingly had some sort of connection to the Jets—even if it was a Six Degrees of Mark Scheifele sort of deal.

A friend of a friend knew where the younger Jets players liked to spend their free time, as if that wasn’t widely known by everyone in their 20s anyway, and you found yourself in the same bar as Luc, Logan and Jansen.

You found yourself at Luc’s house a lot after that.

Nobody seemed to mind the weird, nebulous state of your relationship—situationship is probably the best word to describe everything that you were. It hadn’t mattered, not really, that you showed up at Luc’s house at the first text with little care for the time he sent his you up? text because he was always just as quick to show up when you sent him a photo of your empty bed without any words to accompany it.

It was always You and Luc, even though there was no You and Luc.

The trade request rumours go unmentioned in the time you spend together—the first alleged request being negated by a one-year contract and the second, the most recent, never coming up. You couldn’t forget them, though. You caught yourself looking at Luc when his back was turned, hoping you could will him to talk to you. Hoping he would explain the request. Hoping he would tell you directly.

Time passed, though, without any mention from Luc that he no longer wanted to be in Winnipeg. Without any mention that whatever You and Luc were had an expiration date.

The Jets lost four games in a row, ending their season in the first round of the playoffs. It hurt because they’re your team—a crushing disappointment especially after winning the first game so soundly and taking game 3 to second overtime—and you watched every game from start to finish.

It was another turning point in your situationship with Luc. As much as you were always a text message away, Luc never asked right after road trips. You never expected him to. It was a boundary set in place that you were more than happy to adhere to.

Except.

The text wasn’t even the usual you up? but an explicit come over that had your heart rate spiking. It was the most direct either of you had ever been and you didn’t know what it meant at all.

He’d barely arrived home when you were buzzed into the building if the suitcase at the door was any indication. He looked exhausted, standing beside the intercom with his forehead pressed against the wall.

You didn’t wait before moving towards him, your footsteps disgustingly loud in the otherwise silent apartment, and pressed your forehead into the space between his shoulder blades.

In a hoarse voice, muffled by the wall he was leaning against, Luc asked, “When’s it my turn to win?”

He wasn’t crying, something you were grateful for because you knew you were ill equipped to deal with it, but he may well have been. The sagging of his limbs, so tired and dejected that his muscles weren’t even tense, and the defeat in his voice were foreign to you.

“What do you need from me?” you asked, unable to think of anything else and not wanting to make a wrong move and upset him even more.

He signed, his entire body shaking with it, and admitted that he just wanted to go to bed.

You agreed, despite it being far from what you’d gone for. Moving him was easy; he put up no resistance as you led him down to his room. You’d never seen him so low, never moved him so easily, and, as many times as you had undressed each other in that very room, taking his clothes off was the strangest part of it all.

He helped you undress him in so much as he moved his limbs when he needed to, but he was very much just doing as he was told.

“You’ve got so many more years in you, Luc,” you said when you were finally laying in the bed.

“It never feels that way.”

Waking up in Luc’s bed wasn’t strange by any means, nor, quite frankly, was the morning wood pressed against your lower back. Being the familiar territory that it was, you roused Luc from his sleep and started your morning the right way.

He was visibly happier than the night before—or, maybe not happier but definitely less noticeably distraught—and falling into old habits was simple and welcomed by both of you. The closeness, physical and emotional, something he needed judging by the way he held you through breathy moans.

It wasn’t until you were showered and sitting at his kitchen island with a coffee as he got ready for end-of-season interviews, grumbling as he moved throughout the house.

Your timing probably wasn’t the best, waiting until you were standing at his front door saying goodbye just before he fronted the media, but you had never shied from the hard conversations. Even if you delayed them until the last—often worst—possible moment.

“I’ll see you when you’re back for training camp?” you asked tentatively, wringing your hands in your lap.

Luc hesitated for so long that you thought he might never say anything. He couldn’t meet your eye when he said, “Yeah. End of August, probably.”

You watched him carefully, scrutinising the painful casualness of his response, the lack of any giveaways that he was lying or that he hoped what he was saying wasn’t true.

You knew too much, though.

His casual demeanour faltered as you met him with an equally long silence—you weren’t hesitating for any reason other than to make him uncomfortable.

He shifted his feet and looked everywhere in the room except at you. He was opening his mouth to speak when you finally decided to keep talking, cutting him off.

“Are you ever going to talk to me about requesting a trade?”

Luc’s demeanour changed from confused to defensive immediately when he asked, “Do I need to?”

“I mean… yeah?” you asked, stumbling over your words. “You were really just going to leave for the summer and never come back?”

“I—” The colour drained from his face. “Yeah.”

With your hands pulling at the bottom of your hoodie, you felt your heart rise into your throat. There wasn’t anything else for you to say, which was a blessing because if you opened your mouth, you weren’t sure what would have come out.

You nodded once, stiffly, and then again after a beat before you let the barstool screech against the tiles as you stood. He didn’t make any move to stop you as you grabbed your purse, and you could feel him staring as you walked out the door. You cursed the apartment building for having quiet closing doors when all that would have made you feel better was hearing something slam behind you.

June came and went, July disappeared as quick as it arrived and August… well August dragged on painfully.

You worked through the perfect weather and the perfect photos your friends posted of their perfect vacations. It wasn’t all that different from every other summer since you graduated and it was no different to the previous summer because you didn’t see him then anyway.

A lot of energy had been spent trying to get him out of your mind, not least because all of your work colleagues seemingly spent their every waking moment talking about Pierre-Luc Dubois and his trade request. When the trade to LA had finally happened, all they could talk about was “eight years and eight point five million, who does he think he is?” or “he’s just going to ask for another trade in 2 years so jokes on them!”

You, though? Mostly you’d been able to move past it. August rolled around and you didn’t care about Pierre-Luc Dubois.

Until, that is, you were standing in The Forks Market, ready to eat your weight in mini donuts because it had been a long, long week, and, above every other head you saw him.

You couldn’t leave in the rush that you wanted to, or at least suddenly speedrun the market, because you did want your donuts more than you wanted to leave so you turned your head, tried to hide behind some other people and hoped that he’d never spot you.

That was too much to ask for, of course.

The stall called your name and you knew that everybody in the immediate vicinity had heard it but still you collected your food and tried to make a beeline for the exit only to have your name called again.

You stopped but didn’t turn around, hoping that maybe Luc would just turn and leave but you knew that was foolish. You felt his presence as he got closer, his body so much larger than those around him that even without seeing him you just knew.

He said your name, in such a deceptively soft voice that you had no choice but to turn around, to look at him and see a sorrow on his face that you hadn’t ever expected. Definitely nothing you’d ever seen before.

“You got something to say or?” you prompted when he just continued to stare at you.

“How are you?”

You recoiled at the question, your eyebrows pulling together, followed by an eye roll so rapid that it actually hurt. Luc flinched himself but didn’t rush to say anything else.

“That’s not the conversation I want to have,” you said, brutally honest. “Especially not with you. So, I’m going to take my food and leave. Enjoy LA.”

You stepped away, causing him to stand up straighter and reach for you—but only briefly before he thought better of it. Still, he said, rushed, “Come back to mine.”

“And why should I do that?”

“I have—” he cleared his throat. “I have to talk to you and I don’t want to do that here.”

You hesitated but ultimately agreed when curiosity got the better of you. As much as you’d not wanted to think about him, it had been impossible to shake the desire for any sort of explanation.

Walking into his apartment again didn’t feel like a bad idea, but it did feel weird to see it mostly empty with packing boxes stacked against the walls. You didn’t need to be reminded that he was going—gone—and yet the reminder still had you looking away instantly back to Luc.

Luc pulled out the food that he’d bought at the market—an actual meal—and set it down on the kitchen island where the only remaining seats in his apartment were, just three barstools.

“I hope they gave you a fork because I don’t have any cutlery,” he said sheepishly.

You sat down beside him, placed your own bag down and told him, smiling to yourself, “I don’t think I need a fork to eat mini donuts.”

The laugh that erupted from him shocked both of you. You more so, you thought, because you weren’t sure you’d ever heard him laugh so heartily, so carefree. It ended up being the reason for your abrupt silence, the joy being pulled from you and a donut being shoved into your mouth to avoid any questioning.

He didn’t seem to notice that your laughter had stopped for any reason other than deciding to eat, so he ate his curry still smiling and starting a conversation about Ryan Gosling as Ken that you had to admit was endearing even if you didn’t want to. Your own contribution to that conversation was minimal despite how much you had enjoyed the movie in the first place.

“Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?” you asked during a break in the conversation where Luc was getting ready to start playing the movie’s soundtrack. That was so far past normal that you had to get out of it, that you had to bring him back to the reason you’d even gone to his apartment in the first place.

Luc looked chastised as he put his phone back down on the table. He turned the stool so that he was facing you, the one stool still in between you, and all joy had fallen from his face. He reached one hand out, resting it on the empty stool, and inhaled.

“I asked for a trade.”

“So, I heard.”

“I can’t keep losing.”

“Oh,” you said, feigning sympathy, “Because the Kings got so much further than the Jets did. Understandable.”

Whatever was left of his openness disappeared, his face making it clear that he’d shuttered. You didn’t care, really, when that was the lame excuse you’d gotten.

“I don’t even care about that,” you said, waving off the poor excuse. “Honestly, I don’t care that you requested it because whatever it’s your career and your life, you can leave if you want—why didn’t you tell me, Luc? If I hadn’t asked, I really don’t think you would have told me.”

“I should have,” he admitted, without hesitation, his face relaxing into something somewhat remorseful. “I know I should have. Even if we’re just… casual, fuckbuddies, whatever we’re calling it, of course I should have told you. It just took me until you got mad for me to realise that.”

 “What? You didn’t realise I was human until that moment?”

“I didn’t realise you cared.”

That chastened you quite effectively, because it was true that you’d never given much—or any—indication that it was more than just sex. Not a great deal more, at least not until you thought you were going to lose him, but enough that the friends in friends-with-benefits had clearly meant a lot more to you than it did to him. You couldn’t have expected him to know that when your conversations were limited to if the roads were okay on the drive to one another’s place.

You admitted, quietly, your eyes averted to your lap, “I don’t know if I did until I heard you wanted out. Then I thought about it at length and by the time I asked you about it… Lying to me is just about the worst thing you could have done.”

“I didn’t think you’d bring it up,” he said slowly. “I really just thought you would leave; I’d go back to Quebec and then, when the season started, I’d be somewhere else and then you asked and… I realised I cared about leaving you behind.”

Your eyes fell shut, overwhelmed by what he’d told you. You were sure nobody had ever cared about leaving you behind before. You wondered, briefly, how long it would have taken Luc to contact you if he hadn’t seen you that evening, though it was something that could be found out later. More pressing was the confession you’d just received.

Your eyes opened, and Luc was looking at you with a softness and longing that overwhelmed you all over again. All you did was laugh nervously, shyly, to yourself, and tell him, “I don’t even know anything about you that I haven’t learnt from the Jets’ broadcasts.”

“I don’t think I know anything about you either,” he confessed, unabashed. “I want to learn; if you want to teach me.”

Please consider leaving feedback—reblog and write in the tags or send an ask, I’m not fussed. I just want to know what you’re thinking!

i forgot i have a tag list rip (very sorry if you’ve already seen the fic!!)

@fallinallincurls @spine-buster @2manytabsopen @xcicix @sorryjustafangirl @senditcolton @shinyfalcon4 @laurenairay @jarmorie @diary-of-jj @its-bitchin-belle-bitches @sssstarstruck @pr3nt1ss

#pierre luc dubois fic #pierre luc dubois imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fic #homemade fic #the summer fic exchange 2k23 #a patented antoineroussel ending™️ #fic: kings

[badbatchposts]

Quiet Corners of the Galaxy

Happy Bad Batch Eve! I'm obsessed with the new season but the content isn't coming out fast enough so I felt like I needed to write my own.

Tech's not dead and Crosshair rejoins the team partway through Season 2 after Mayday's death rather than being imprisoned by the Empire, but this is otherwise canon-compliant. No Season 3 spoilers.

While on a routine mission for Cid, the Bad Batch encounter a woman fleeing from the Empire. Crosshair suspects her seemingly free-spirited, nomadic existence is actually a cover for something else, but struggles to keep his attraction toward her in check as their personalities and ideals clash.

Chapters posted 1-2x weekly!

Chapter One

“We will be landing on the outskirts of the city ruins shortly. Scanners indicate that it is abandoned, but there is an Imperial outpost located ten klicks East, in the next valley over. This should be a relatively simple operation: make our way to the city center, locate the cargo, and return to the Marauder.” Tech was at the controls of the ship as usual, setting them down in an open, overgrown area where the ruins of the city—little more than rubble and scrap now, haphazardly heaped stoneworks and scorched earth where once there had been homes, streets, marketplaces—were fewer and further between. The remaining members of the squad did their final checks of their equipment, adjusting armor and securing weapons as the hatch hissed open. Wrecker was the first out.

“Woah. What happened here?” The largest member of the squad looked around incredulously. The destruction was not recent; a thick layer of soot, grime, and overgrown weeds was evidence of the neglect that the ruins had been left to. It did not seem that anyone was deeply interested in rebuilding.

Tech had the answer, as always. “A particularly destructive battle toward the end of the war. The city was occupied by Separatist forces. Citizens who were unable to evacuate before the droids moved in were held in a makeshift camp on the North side of town. Luckily, this means that many of them made it out alive once the Republic regained the territory. Their homes…were less lucky.”

Crosshair, Hunter, and Echo followed the pair down the ramp. “What cargo could there even be left to recover in all this?” Crosshair asked skeptically. His voice, as usual, dripped equal parts disdain and boredom.

“Cid’s intel says mostly expensive droid parts,” Echo intervened. “The town had a factory. When the Separatists occupied it, they planned to begin shipping the parts off-world to help with production of their army. The Republic moved in too quickly for them; the factory was destroyed, but the crates were being housed underground awaiting cataloging. As far as Cid’s source knows, they’re still there.”

Hunter looked thoughtful. “Anything to worry about with that Imperial outpost, Tech?”

“Doubtful,” the other replied, examining his datapad. “The cargo is not significant enough to merit their attention, and forces are largely dedicated to patrolling a nearby spaceport, where it would seem most of the refugees have relocated.”

Hunter nodded seriously. “Alright then. Crosshair, get a good vantage point on the hilltop where you can keep an eye on us and any activity from the outpost coming our way. Everybody else, let’s locate that cargo.”

Their forces divided, the rest of the squad beginning to pick their way among the ruins toward the city center, while the slender sniper hiked in the opposite direction. The hills were dotted with trees—not heavily forested, but enough cover for him to dig in and wait. Soon, he crested the peak, settling in at a good vantage point where he could watch the outpost in the middle distance through his scope. Activities at the facility were regular and rhythmic; troopers on patrol, units coming and going from the nearby spaceport. Nothing extraordinary.

“In position. All clear,” he reported over his comm.

“Acknowledged,” came Hunter’s reply. With any luck, the others would retrieve the cargo within a number of hours. He waited, patient and disinterested. He was good at waiting.

Some time later, his comm crackled to life again with a status update. “Cargo located.” It was his turn to acknowledge their progress. For a brief moment, he thought idly about whether he preferred missions like this one—smooth, uncomplicated, if a little boring—or those where everything seemed to go right to shit. At least, he smirked to himself wryly, the latter required more significant use of his skills.

When he heard the screeching sound of failing engines and saw the dark plume of smoke trailing behind the ship on its downward trajectory, all he could think was that the galaxy must have been listening in on him.

It crashed down northeast of his position, the impact of the wreckage echoing out across the valley. The response on his comm came through almost immediately.

“What the hell was that, Crosshair?”

“Downed Imperial shuttle. Drawing attention from the outpost now. Get moving.”

“Well, with any luck that’ll keep them occupied long enough for us to get outta here. Stay outta sight,” Hunter replied. Crosshair shifted his scope from the troopers mobilizing at the outpost toward the crash site, just in time to see a woman emerge from the ship, coughing in the smoke. He had expected a detachment of troopers to come stumbling from the wreckage, not a lone woman. She was human, silver haired, staring back at the shuttle with a look halfway between rage and despair. She slammed her fist against the ship’s hull in frustration, and he smirked a little as she winced, rubbing her hand in pain. She ducked back into the ship, emerging momentarily, pulling a poncho over her head as she strapped a blaster to her hip and pulled on a pack.

He scanned the area around her as she began marching south from the crash, glancing furtively in all directions. She was heading on a trajectory that would intersect any moment with two troopers on speeder bikes. She was moving too slowly, limping a little. This should be interesting, he thought dryly. He was sure the Empire were very welcoming to unauthorized crash landings of stolen shuttles near their facilities.

When the woman and the troopers came face to face, he could only imagine the dialogue accompanying the silent pageant he could see through his scope. The woman slowly raised both hands, throwing a flattering, charming smile at the troopers. She thought she could talk her way out of it, he reasoned. So the flash of the blaster bolt caught him by surprise when she snaked one of her hands behind her head, grabbing a concealed weapon off her shoulder, and fired off a shot.

“Is that blaster fire, Crosshair?!” Hunter demanded over the comm.

“Not mine,” he replied calmly.

“Then who?!”

The round had caught one of the troopers in the chest, toppling him off the speeder bike. The woman took advantage of the confusion to dive for cover behind a tree, exchanging fire with the remaining trooper. What she couldn’t see, of course, were the other half dozen Imperials making their way toward her position. Any moment now, she’d be surrounded.

“Status?” Crosshair queried over the comm.

“Making our way back to the Marauder.”

The woman managed to get a good shot in on the remaining trooper, and he toppled to the ground. However, just as she made a dash for the speeder bikes, two green bolts flashed by, wrecking her getaway vehicles and forcing her to dive once more, losing the smaller blaster. She recovered quickly, unholstering the larger piece at her hip and taking shots at the oncoming troopers as she ran for cover again. It was pointless, he thought. She didn’t stand much chance of escape, alone, on foot. Not this close to the outpost.

From his vantage point, he could see the troopers fanning out, boxing her in. She had the hillside to her back; the elevation would slow down her retreat, even if she could keep up enough cover fire to out-maneuver the speeder bikes. And—the only part that mattered to him—she ran the risk of drawing Imperial attention to the adjoining valley before they finished loading up the marauder.

However, before he could further consider the implications of her retreat, he saw her move to fire off another shot from around her cover. In the brief moment she was exposed, a blaster bolt from one of the troopers clipped her side, propelling her forcefully to the ground. She was close enough for him to hear her strangled cry at the hit, echoing out against across the valley. She scrabbled backwards in the dirt, blaster thrown out of reach. One of the troopers swung off his speeder bike, approaching her slowly as he took aim. They weren’t planning on taking her prisoner. He couldn’t hear whatever words they exchanged, just see the snarl on the woman’s face before her features calmed, peaceful, as she closed her eyes before the inevitable.

Crosshair dispatched the trooper closest to her, expertly, just before the Imperial could squeeze to pull the trigger. He followed it up with three more in rapid succession, the troopers falling dead before they could hope to locate the sniper’s position or find cover. The final two, he saw with some surprise, were caught off guard by the woman, who had managed to crawl over to her lost blaster in the confusion.

She was attempting to limp her way over to one of the abandoned speeder bikes when he caught up to her.

“Stay back,” she warned him, eyes glinting as she aimed her blaster at him.

“Are you even sure you could ride one of those things by yourself right now?” He drawled back at her.

“Of course I can,” she snapped. As if to prove it to him, she gripped the handle of the first one she came to with her left hand, knuckles white, right hand steady as she kept her blaster trained on his chest. She swung her leg and mounted the bike. He watched her grip on the handle loosen as the shock and pain caught up to her, her eyes rolling back in her head as she collapsed.

#the bad batch #star wars #clone wars fanfiction #clone force 99 #bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb crosshair #clone trooper crosshair #crosshair x oc

[whxre-bxby]

The recoms x reader with competitions sounds hilarious

I can totally imagine them having weird ass competitions Lol

Can't wait for that one

Yeah, this has been in my inbox for ages so glad to finally post it

"Pecking Order"

f. Y/N Recom x Recom Quaritch /Lyle /Prager /Mansk /Brown /Lopez /Ja /Walker /Zdinarsk

Masterlist

Summary: Being a recom soldier is difficult. Especially when dealing with the new instincts and needs the body requires. To keep his team sane, Quaritch comes up with a solution in which Y/N is shared with everyone.

Warnings: indication of smut, little bit of fluff, depressing ending, outrageously minimal wordcount (my apologies)

Word Count: 1590

(I'm sorry about how short this is, but I'm really struggling to write at the moment because I have so much going on)

(Once again I am pretending that Warren and Zhang don’t exist, I am sorry to those who like them but I really don’t.)

Being on Pandora is weird. It’s a whole new planet. But what’s even weirder is being on a foreign planet in a foreign body. Another human’s body wouldn’t have been so bad, but no, you’re blue now. You and your squad along with your Colonel have all permanently become Avatars. It takes a lot of time to get used to the changes. It seems like you discover something new about yourselves every day. Luckily it’s been almost two months since you woke up from criyo. 

It seems as though the foreign environment and new feelings have almost strengthened the connection of the team. You all got along when you had to before but now you feel like they are all close friends to you. 

One evening at dinner, Lyle had brought up how most soldiers used to have fuck-buddies to get through life on Pandora. Most of the team did back then too. Now, it seemed as though no one had even thought about it. You and the others didn’t exactly know how everything worked so the subject was ignored and brushed off. But it was definitely not forgotten.

It had quite literally been years since any one of you had experienced any form of sexual pleasure. That was suppressed in the beginning but the Avatar’s body language was more visible than a human's and it was more difficult to control and suppress emotions. 

At one point in time, all recoms including you were constantly tense and distracted. No one was able to fully focus during training anymore and Quaritch noticed this. He himself had the same problem and he knew he couldn’t send his squad out into the forest like this. You would die on the first day out. The Colonel would rather solve the problem in any way possible than explain what is happening to the General. The recoms are meant to be reliable and professional. What is happening to all of you is getting in the way of both those things. 

The Colonel forced everyone to attend his ‘emergency meeting’ even though you all had the rest of the day off. The atmosphere was thick and you found it hard to breathe even though the room was ventilated. 

Quaritch had made you all sit down to listen to him but your attention was barely on his words. Instead, you were subconsciously studying Mansk. He was calmly fiddling with his fingers but you noticed how strained his arms were and how far back he had his ears pinned. Nobody was relaxed. 

You also realised earlier today that you basically lost control of your tail. It’s just doing its own thing at this point and there is nothing you can do about it. 

The Colonel started explaining his recent observations of our behaviour and you immediately thought you were all being scolded. But you were wrong. 

“The only option I see te’ help us with our probem,” Quaritch says, inhaling deeply as if he were not sure how we would react. “Is to fuck it out.” 

Lyle snorts, thinking his superior is joking but Quaritch is dead serious. 

“Suggest otherwise, Corporal Wainfleet.” The Colonel says, sternly glaring at Lyle. I stare at both of them with wide eyes. No way is he suggesting this. 

There was some kind of argumentative discussion between the two but you have tuned out, blankly staring past Quaritch and at the wall behind him. This room had no windows, so no one could see or come in here because it was a recom only area. 

“Y/N.” Quaritch’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. You glance up at him while Mansk shifts his gaze to you. 

“You’re with me.” he orders, watching your surprised yet innocent face process the information. 

“No fuckin’ way.” Mansk interrupts. You stare at him now, completely surprised by his words. Mansk never objects or argues with people. He’s the best soldier when it comes to following orders. This is out of character for him. 

Quaritch doesn’t seem pleased by his words but once again to your surprise, he doesn’t put Mansk in his place. Since this isn’t a professional environment anymore, it seems as though the ranks between the soldiers don’t play such a big role. 

A few other recoms back Mansk up, not liking that the Colonel wants you to himself which still baffles you. 

But it turns out, they all seemed to have taken a liking to you. Most soldiers were ignorant and self-centred. You weren’t. You seemed almost naturally submissive to the others, especially as an Avatar. Something about you, perhaps your scent of strong pheromones, drew them to you.

So that evening, while you were being eyed hungrily by every single one of your teammates, they made a fair plan. In their free time, they would hold weekly competitions to figure out the order of who gets the most time with you. You were included and nothing was forced on you.

Since life in the RDA was really dull and colourless, these planned activities and competitions amused everyone. 

To keep it fair, it wouldn’t always be the same task to win, it would be changed so that everyone gets a chance. Otherwise, it would always be the same people with you. 

The first and most obvious challenge was a physical strength competition. This one lasted a long time and it went all the way from who could hold themselves in a plank position the longest to wrestling in the gym. In the third week, things took a drastic turn when Lyle decided to time himself to see how fast he could make you cum. Any technique was allowed and on the same day, everyone had their turn which had you not only fucked out but completely dumb and tired for the rest of the day. 

Z-Dog won that one and right behind her was Walker. Lopez was next and all three of them took great pride in it. It seems as though oral sex was the way to go.

Quaritch was always near the top and most often the first on the leaderboard in the physical challenges. Which meant you spent a lot of time in his room, which you honestly didn’t mind. While he was a brutal and cold-hearted man on the outside, he took care of you behind closed doors. Miles picked you up and walked you to his room when it suited the two of you. There, he took his time with you. Nothing was ever rushed because he wanted you to enjoy it as much as he did. 

Let’s just say, you always slept well after having sex with him and he took care of you in his bed, letting you sleep in it. You always left his room feeling satisfied in the morning. Lyle, Mansk and Prager were also usually quite at the top so when you and Quaritch would finish, they would get a day of the week each to spend with you. Sometimes, you had a few of them at once. 

Normally, you would feel bad about yourself for sleeping around so much but they made you feel like you are all that matters to them, so you rarely worried about that. You didn’t feel used, you felt loved. Something you had been deprived of since you left Earth years ago. 

Once everyone had a turn and the feral instincts calmed down, the competitions continued but they became more funny than serious. At this point, you were all just doing it for shits and giggles because there really wasn’t anything else to do. Except for finding Sully but that mission wasn’t ready yet. 

So the subjects of the competitions started to change along with everyone’s behaviour. The lust has been brought under control so you weren’t as tired anymore and only occasionally had sex with the recoms that needed it. 

A cooking competition was held which turned into a completely messy disaster. Mansk won it by far but at what cost? The oven had exploded because Ja refused to take the food out, claiming it wasn’t done yet. Lopez put metal in the microwave which really damaged the machine and you can’t quite remember how it happened but Z-Dog and Walker had accidentally set a curtain on fire. Instead of trying to put out the flames, they got angry because “What’s a fuckin’ curtain doin’ in the kitchen anyway?!”.

Another one was who could breathe oxygen for the longest because we were now adapted to Pandora’s air. Prager won. He said he used to dive regularly back on Earth so he was able to hold his breath for a long time. 

Brown and Walker almost lost consciousness. 

It kept going on and on like this because it was all the fun you had. Even when the mission started, the challenges were who could tame their Ikran the fastest, who could guess the Na’vi words correctly and who could properly land a fall from the Ikran. You started taking part in the competitions just for your own fun. It really had brought everyone together but eventually, all good things must come to an end. 

When you started encountering Sully, you began losing soldiers and once some teammates were gone, no one was feeling good enough to even suggest anything fun. From that point of, you all just wanted to finish your mission and end this.

Enjoy the bunnies instead of the abrupt ending :)

Tag List: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @jatwow @numarusworld @number1gal @ikranwings

#private mansk #avatar mansk #recom mansk #mansk #mansk x reader #recom squad #avatar recoms #james cameron avatar #avatar movie #avatar the way of water #grillmaster mansk #mansk grillmaster #recom lyle wainfleet #lyle wainfleet #fanfiction #avatar #fluff #smut #avatar imagine #mansk smut #recom smut #recom mansk smut #mansk fluff #atwow #atwow mansk #atwow x reader #avatar 2 #avatar x reader #atwow smut #na'vi mansk

[gothhabiba]

hello! i am a longtime huge admirer of your clothing/fashion sense, as well as a longtime backreader of your #victorian and #goth tags. i am really interested in what you've written about Victorian dress, and i am looking to get more into 19th and 20th century clothing for gender + diy craft reasons. i'm so sorry if you've answered similar questions before, but do you have any tips for where a newbie should start researching? either way, thank you thank you, your blog opens my mind wide and brings me much joy and reflection!

General research:

Spend some time searching the 'net, museum websites, and archive sites for fashion plates (such as archive.org—link leads to a date-restricted query for "fashion"—or the Smithsonian—link leads to fashion plates in their image collection). Take note of what you like, as well as which styles correspond to which decade. Karolina Żebrowska has a good rundown of English fashion over the decades.

The undergarments are what does the most work creating the necessary silhouette to make Victorian & Edwardian womenswear fit properly. If you've figured out a decade you want your outfit to draw on, doing a quick search for "[decade] undergarments" should bring up plenty of blog posts, which may or may not cite primary sources (such is the fickle nature of the historical blogosphere). Bustle pads and sleeve supports can be purchased or made; they're both pretty simple, and tutorials abound.

Purchasing clothing:

Reproduction made-to-measure clothing can be readily found on etsy, but can be in the several-hundred USD range. I've had some luck finding vintage reproduction clothing (like, a skirt someone made by hand in the 1980s to a 1900s walking skirt pattern), which tends to be much cheaper.

Men, women, and children wore stays and corsets. As far as I know, Orchard Corset has the cheapest OTR corsets that are good quality and safe to wear. If you get a corset in the style of a specific decade handmade or made to measure, make sure that the seller tells you what the boning material is, what construction the boning is (spiral steel is sturdiest and most flexible), how many bones there are, what the corset material is, &c.—otherwise it's an indication of an unserious maker. Follow general advice for wearing corsets at a waist reduction (lace up slowly, break it in, &c.).

Antique Menswear on youtube gives a lot of good, practical advice for wearing late 19th-century and early 20th-century men's clothing (including where to buy reproductions and how to treat them, how to modify modern shirts to 19th-century standards with basically no sewing skills, &c.).

Actual antique clothing can be found and purchased online or at estate sales—usually in very small sizes, but I've seen Edwardian skirts and petticoats in an XL (also a small size, but...). You can also just simply browse this kind of thing for inspiration and save photos of anything you think you'd like to recreate.

Even clothing that was not "meant" to be worn by re-enactors can be clearly historically influenced (e.g. the huge boom in Victorian- and Edwardian- style blouses in the 1980s), so keep an open mind when shopping for vintage clothing! A lot of 1970s dresses that look "hippy" on their own can look very Victorian with the right undergarments and an updo. A lot of 1980s men's trousers also approach the right silhouette for the 1910s-inspired three-piece suit I'm trying to put together. Witness also the recent trend for big puffed sleeves!

Making or modifying clothing:

Victorian and Edwardian manuals for garment drafting and sewing can be found online—go to archive.org and search for "sewing," "drafting," or "dressmaking," then use the filters on the left to chuse which year(s) you want to see results from. Most of these have patterns that are sort of vibes-based: The work-woman's guide is one manual that claims to have patterns laid out strictly according to a grid.

I don't sew garments, but if Victorian pattern-writing for sewing is anything like it is for knitting, that may not be super useful. People do sell updates and graded 'translations' of antique patterns (which tend to be written in only one size) on etsy and ebay—just make sure from the description that it's 'deciphered' and translated rather than a scan of the original pattern!

One of the easiest things that you can do to add some Victorian or Goth flair to an otherwise plain-looking garment is to add trim. You can knit, crochet, or tat your own trim from Victorian lace-making patterns; purchase antique trim from resale sites; or buy braided or lace trim very cheaply at any craft store. Trim doesn't just have to go around the hems and cuffs of a garment: lace "insertions" between two pieces of fabric, as well as raised geometric patterns over the surface of a garment, are common in 19th-century clothing.

[ID: first image shows a black overdress showing lace insertions between strips of fabric of equal width, creating a striped effect. second image is the back of a black blouse with trim in a geometric design centred around right angles and parallel lines. end ID]

Jewellery (women's and men's):

Actual antique jewellery (including men's jewellery and fastenings) is not as expensive as you might think. Even if you're not willing to spend a lot of time learning what to look for and scouring estate sales for people who don't know or care what they have, late Victorian mass-manufactured costume jewellery often goes for sub-$50 or even $30 prices at auction on ebay (USD, in the US—in my experience it is even more plentiful and cheaper in the UK).

Specifically, I've lucked out with lots ("lot" as in, a bunch of small things being sold together) of "vintage men's accessories" going for $20 or so that contained Victorian cufflinks (in low-karat gold, mother-of-pearl, and jet), collar studs (in low-karat gold and base metals), and shirt studs (in low-karat gold, with garnets and seed pearls, &c.). Searching for lots of accessories is generally a good idea since by and large people do not know what these things are... but if you're willing to spend a little more for something that has been identified and is more likely to still be with its set, use the specific search term for that item (e.g. "antique collar studs").

Answers to Questions About Old Jewelry (though aimed at estate sellers and, if memory serves, full of regrettable pæans to Queen Victoria) is a good reference text to dating antique jewellery. I also recommend Miller's Illustrated Guide to Jewelry Appraising. Both of these texts are available on libgen.

Feel free to ask me follow-up questions if you want more detail on any of these points. As you can see I am perfectly happy to blather away on this topic

#questions #Victorian #Goth #long post / #Anonymous

[curry-and-gunpowder]

Okay so I have some stuff to get off my chest, might get a bit heated, but I mean no disrespect to anyone, just expressing my genuine confusion and frustration and trying to make my stance on some matters clear.

Clearly I ship Odazai. But that does not mean I reject other interpretations of their relationship. Be it platonic, queerplatonic, brotherly, it's all lovely to me - I genuinely just enjoy their unique dynamic.

However, I am constantly on the brink of losing it over hearing them referred to as a father/son pair by so many people in the fandom. And I'm gonna attempt to break down why this interpretation bothers me so much.

Firstly, it just flies in the face of my personal experience of intergenerational friendships - I'm a young-ish Millennial with many Gen Z friends. And I find it completely incomprehensible to try and force people who are relatively close in age into such a dynamic. I'm aware that a lot of bsd fans are teens or young adults who maybe don't have much social contact with people outside their age range. But as a 30+ person on the Internet, let me tell you, five years? That's nothing. The plain truth is, the older you get, the less age starts to matter. Once you get out of school, you will interact with people of all ages regularly and you will have friends who are older or younger than you and nobody fucking cares. The thought of seeing any of my younger friends as my children is, pardon my french, fucking ridiculous.

Secondly, and I've spoken about this before, the fandom's tendency to parentify Odasaku way beyond what the text ever implies. It's easy to put him into the role, considering the way he cares for his orphans. In that way, he has some parental traits - but it's only a facet of his personality, and, i would argue, one that the fandom puts way too much emphasis on, imho. I'll gladly write some more meta on that at a later time, but doing that here would make the post even longer than it already is. Just to quickly reiterate, for anyone who hasn't read the dark era lightnovel - Oda does explicitly NOT treat the kids like his children. Why then would he treat Dazai like one? Dazai, whom he explicitly invites to go drinking with him in TDIPUD? How does that track? Is he supposed to be just a shitty parent? Or could it maybe indicate that he sees Dazai as his equal more than anything?

(Tangentially, I would argue that Oda's perception of what constitutes a child/an adult is horrendously skewed, considering his own past.)

Thirdly, and this is probably gonna be the one that might get me into hot water with some people, the thing I like to call the Cope. The tendency in fandom to manifest a hard line between groups of characters that somehow should never be crossed when shipping, otherwise that makes the ship badwrongtoxic. This is a phenomenon I've observed developing more and more in recent years, and it's ngl pretty worrying, because it's generally used to present one's own ship as "superior", and all "rival ships" as less than/bad. Ships with "significant" age gaps tend to fall into that category relatively often, but I suspect very few people actually genuinely care about the characters' ages, but rather use it as a shield to justify why these relationships are To Be Avoided. Odazai is an absolute stellar example of such a ship - by all means it should be way more popular than it is, considering the themes that surround it and the way its absolutely center to the nareative of bsd. But without fail, when I look up media for the ship, be it YouTube videos or simply browsing the tag on tumblr or pinterest, I see the same mantra repeated over and over - "how can you ship them, they're like father and son!"

(I'm concerned about the relationship you have with your parents, I say to myself in response.)

And its, quite frankly, just not the case. I cannot for the life of me find any indication of this so-called parental relationship anywhere in the text. All I can see is two people who are friends who have a deep and sincere love for each other.

In conclusion, not every relationship has to fall into the category of familial or romantic. Sometimes... people are just friends. Sometimes friends are some years apart in age. It's not shocking or special or anything, it literally happens all the time.

Just let them be friends. It's fine, really, it's allowed.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #text post #long #bsd odasaku #bsd dazai #bsd oda sakunosuke #odazai #bsd dazai osamu #yeah okay this got away from me ngl #sorry its a bit rambly but I'm not exactly a practiced meta writer lol #anyway here's what grinds my gears #the parentification of oda sakunosuke #<- is now a tag i have #and just to be clear #i am not saying anyone who's like #uncomfortable at the thought of shipping oda and dazainis wrong #because everyone has their preferences and boundaries #i just wanna implore people to try and examine thei reasons for that discomfort #that's all #J out✌️

[i-never-forgot]

I wanted to ask for curiosity sake BUT!!! What does Lu wear/look like when he’s evolved into a fully fledged Lucario? We’ve seen Eliana but I don’t think we’ve seen him yet, and I’m SUPER interested :O

I’m not great at drawing Pokes besides Eevee (especially from memory) so the one other time I’ve drawn a Lucario recently I decided…not to post it🥲

But! I don’t give Lu enough attention (plus I’ve been meaning to post some more refined sketches of this duo), so…here you go!😊

Team Relic!

I’ve previously shied away from giving them any specific identifying features because I am frankly terrified of unique character design (I’ve never been particularly good at it tbh…I always draw a blank on what I could include that wouldn’t be terribly cliche…all my OCs weep bc of this lol), but I decided to try my hand at it.

Eliana as an Eevee is taller than average, perhaps the greatest indicator of her physical age despite being a first form Pokémon (still tiny tho). Her paws are a darker shade of brown, similar to the tone in the inside of her ears, and instead of having a somewhat coarse, stiff, straight fur like most Eevee, hers is smoother, silkier, and almost curly (to reflect the texture of her hair as a human more closely). Her fur is also a tad longer, so some of these errant cowlicks are visible. She wears the knot of her scarf in the front sometimes because she does (thankfully) have enough dexterity to tie it on her own, but it takes her a while. Most of the time Lu does it for her.

[Lu develops a habit of either smoothing down said curls with his paws or introducing her to the concept of mutual grooming as a response to either of their occasional insomniac episodes or when one of them is anxious, but only in the privacy of their room. Otherwise, he keeps a paw between her shoulder blades under her ruff and strokes the fur under his pads as a self-soothing tactic, such as when running into Team Skull.]

As a Leafeon she grows extra lithe and lanky, so she has a bit of fawn clumsiness at first because she’d gotten so used to her shorter legs. Her nose scar from Grovyle is fully healed by this point, so it’s faded a bit, but she hadn’t been able to see the dead patch of skin where Dusknoir’s Ice Punch frostbit the flesh around her throat and rendered it hairless before, so she wears something over it almost all the time bc she hates the reminder.

[Later on she continues to wear it bc it distresses Dusknoir to see it a whole lot—it’s hard to coax him back from his guilty spirals, so she only goes “naked” when her things need to be washed after exploring.]

[She doesn’t even realize she has to allow herself time to photosynthesize a certain amount of time per day so the first week she couldn’t figure out why she felt so awful until Sunflora pointed out that her ears and tail looked a bit wilted. Sun baths and afternoon naps become a main stay after that point, although Lu does have to occasionally remind her when she starts to feel down without realizing she’d forgotten to do so.]

[She feels a little naked without her ruff because she’d grown the habit of tucking her chin/mouth into it when stressed out, so when she swaps her Guild scarf for a Virid Collar, she’s grateful to have the extra fabric to nuzzle into when she’s overwhelmed.]

[She can also contort into the oddest shapes to sleep. Lu can’t understand it, but it’s because she and Treecko would often have to wedge themselves into crevices and cracks to rest.]

Lu is pretty much your run-of-the-mill Riolu, although he’s a little slimmer and taller with a bit of a longer narrower snout.

However, when he evolves into Lucario, he fleshes out and gets a bit bulkier after all the exploring they’ve done. His chest spike is broken in an accident, and he develops early gray hair along his muzzle (losing your best friend prematurely to sudden vaporization will certainly affect your stress toleration in the long run huh).

[His fur thickens up in the winter and he’s the best to snuggle with, but given the fact that Treasure Town is coastal it rarely actually gets cold enough to last the whole night without having to peel yourself away for a chance to breathe.]

Let me know if there are any other details or questions you wonder about :)

#fisara’s answers #ao3: in the morning light #pokemon #pokemon mystery dungeon #explorers of sky #my art #eevee/eliana #riolu/lu #lucario/lu #leafeon/eliana

[fractualized]

Hoo boy. TMWSL #11 dropped a bomb today. Or a potential bomb? There's still one issue to go.

I'll just get into it.

(big ol' spoilers and SO MANY explosions)

We open with Sewer Rat Joker in the middle of kidnapping several Gothamites.

I'm not sure about that guy on the left, but the lil goon on the right is freaking Albert, the dying kid from the hospital, just… tagging along? I love it.

The janitor is loaded into a van with a few others, and "a few blocks away"…

LA Joker's got a bun now!

That is not Mr. Waffles holding an umbrella to protect the bun from the rain. Waffles is elsewhere on his own special task. At first it's like, aw, I'd like Waffles to be attending to the boss like this. But, uh, we'll learn soon it's actually better that Waffles is otherwise occupied.

Anyway, this Joker has been looking and looking and looking for his counterpart, who's managed to elude capture even while while most of his henchmen have been taken out. And this failure is not looking good on LA Joker, who is very frustrated!

It's so funny that the man they're looking for is nearby in an unmarked van. So maybe the goon who Joker threatened actually deserves it when Joker tells the others to throw him off a bridge. 😬

Joker goes back into the warehouse where Killer Moth is watching TV.

Come on, he's just putting on a show!

Before we find out what Sewer Rat Joker is up to, we cut to Manhunter investigating the van he was using. But he, his crew, and his captives are gone. Ravager is there with information from Jason.

Wait wait wait. Is… Is Jason gone because of the Gotham War thing? Are these supposed to be happening at the same time?? I know Knight Terrors indicated that the events in Batman happen around the same time, but this issue has to take place while Bruce is asleep for two months post Knight Terrors. Right? The goings-on in TMWSL couldn't have been paused for that long. It also doesn't make any goddamn sense, because in Gotham War Selina has supposedly enlisted like 95% of the henchmen, and Jason is acting like he has no clue what's going on with Joker, and nobody is talking about all this Joker-related stuff going on. Like obviously this was never going to end with Jason killing Joker, so I was just assuming Gotham War happens after TMWSL with Jason still on the hunt, but... Good lord, Jason better show up in #12, or I'm going to lose my freakin' mind.

We get a panel showing that Mr. Waffles is watching the two women before we cut to midtown.

Now you think, oh, Sewer Rat Joker is still clothed and not naked, so what's his plan? But then he unleashes a hoard of goons and mid-level rogues on the cops, and you realize this is actually LA Joker, suddenly dressed down in a very similar way to Sewer Rat Joker. I assumed this was for some sort of "Shoot him!" // "No, shoot him!" situation later, but… you'll see.

Hee hee, Moth is using his wings to protect himself from the rain and it looks so cute.

Aw, Joker. :( Don't be so mean to the henchmen. At least it wasn't Waffles.

We don't have to wonder what the purpose of the mess is, because back at the warehouse:

Distraction action! This is not a good issue for henchmen, I gotta tell ya.

Uh… sure, Albert. Good guys.

Also, regarding the newcast, is Joker somewhat diminished "in recent years"?? Joker War wasn't that long ago, even less long ago in-universe, I think. Maybe it just means more rogues are stepping up as larger figures, like Bane and Scarecrow, and I guess Failsafe the angsty robot since if that happened before Knight Terrors, then he's a known quantity here.

Meanwhile, the reportedly naked Joker is not so naked.

I'll never not enjoy confused conversations.

Killer Moth gets a report that the warehouse is radio silent, and that someone spotted the imposter in Chinatown at a hardware store. And then…

See, if Mr. Waffles had been hanging with Joker, he might be dead! For real this time!

This shit is why most henchmen must work with Joker because of obsessive reasons, not for money.

Joker and Moth's amazing escape is not very triumphant.

As they hurtle to the ground, we check back in with Manhunter at the warehouse.

Sewer Rat Joker has also done a costume change! Presumably it's part of him retaking his place as the Rightful Joker. So if there's not going to be outfit confusion, I suppose the other Joker just changed for… comfort?

But there is still confusion for Manhunter, who refers to events in Los Angeles, but if course this Joker says he hasn't been there in a long time.

Albert's parents really should have explained to him who the Joker is.

So LA Joker has forced Killer Moth to walk with him to Chinatown to pick up on the imposter's trail, and they meet up with their remaining henchmen. "Remaining" because of all the ones that died at the train wreck, and some other casualties. They also give Joker the bad news that, like Clayface, basically all the villains that were helping him (Zsasz, Firefly, KGBeast, etc) took off because of how badly this search is going. But Joker will press on! He orders the henchmen into the hardware store to get the imposter.

At least we're all having fun heading toward the finale!

Back at the warehouse standoff, Manhunter has a realization.

Joker has definitely murdered pizza boys. Also, aw, he misses Jason. :( Sadly, Jason isn't who shows up to Manhunter's rescue.

Seriously, if Gotham War is the reason Jason isn't here, and he's not present to close this title out, I'm going to be so annoyed. No shade on Ravager and Manhunter, but we started with Jason. This should finish with Jason. Jason helping Selina for nonsensical reasons is a terrible reason for him to not be here hunting the guy he's been obsessed with for 10 issues.

Sigh. Anyway, Joker sics some poor toxin'd doppelgangers on the women before he escapes with Albert.

Buzzing? THAT'S THE SECRET WORD!

Alright, because of the spy adventure, Mr. Waffles cut it a little close this time, but look at the bright side. Now he meets up with the real deal at last!

Ooh, more hints of the real story, as Waffles lore, heck yeah. The henchman was Mr. Waffles' buddy? Was it just like the "flashback" in the last issue, or different?

Wait, what? WHAT? WHAAAAAAAAAAAOkay okay okay okay. That's a big dang reveal, but there's still one issue left. Can't let the instinct to trust our beloved Mr. Waffles toss aside the options for the final issue:

1) This is all true. Sewer Rat Joker has actually been the imposter all the long, despite his elaborate dream with Batman making that seem silly. EXCEPT. John Keyser not knowing that Batman is Bruce Wayne would be an explanation for why he treated them as two separate people in the dream. Even though there was still an obvious link by putting Bruce in the TKJ outfit and having him behave erratically. Regardless, maybe Keyser really is that deep in. (Though if Joker used the brainwashing technology revealed in Task Force X, I think Keyser would know about Bruce Wayne, putting the explanation back at Weird Dream Thing.)

2) Waffles is straight-up lying to save his own life from a pissed off boss. The reason he's so buddy-buddy with LA Joker is because they were buddies before the transformation.

3) Waffles is being truthful, except something happened during the creation of the second Joker that caused John and Joker to switch places, and Waffles just doesn't realize it.

And I'm hoping #2 or #3 is correct. LA Joker had some fun moments (particularly his relationship with Waffles), but I'm definitely more attached to the underdog, the Joker who had that great nightmare and whose inner thoughts we've been privy to. I wasn't at all expecting Joker to have drastic character development or a heel-face turn or the like, but if it turns out that all those vulnerable moments treating Joker as a three-dimensional character instead of a flat, only-evil-and-nothing-but villain are not about him but some delusional henchman… Hrm. HRM. I know it's gonna bug me. It's gonna bug me a lot.

Whatever happens, I'm just hoping Rosenberg sticks the landing.

Oh, and as a side note, unless there was another henchman involved in this mysterious gas experiment, none of this appears to explain who the Joker appearing in Batman Inc was. Theoretically that could've been LA Joker having some fun on the side when he was away, but there's been nothing in the text saying so. I'm getting the strong feeling that, with how unconcerned DC has been with establishing a clear timeline for their intersecting titles, we're never going to get an answer. Or they'll somehow blame the damn omniverse.

#the man who stopped laughing #joker #spoilers #my jibber-jabber

[pegaace]

Analysis on Witch from Mercury, Colonialism, The Tempest, and Caliba(r)n

Okay I know this is my first post ever but I was tryna find somewhere to put my thoughts after seeing a bunch of people everywhere slander Caliban and why that is not it and how my boi is innocent, good actually. For qualifications I did an undergrad lit class that covered The Tempest like 2 years ago so that's fine right (apologies to my profs if I fuck any of this up)

Okay so for starters yes by now everyone knows WfM is The Tempest, Prospera is Prospero (or Prospera actually, there was a 2010 film adaptation that had the gender switch already), Aerial is Ariel, etc etc. So therefore Caliban has to be this villainous, "monstrous" creature right?

Haha no sit down cos no that would be boring. (and also kinda racist as I'll explain) Notice how in the original Prospero isn't the villain of the story, not really, he's just getting revenge for being wronged years ago and trying to ship the kids together. But if recent gwitch is any indication, Prospera truly is the villain of this story, breaking hearts and stopping at nothing to destroy the Benerit group AND earth. Now I wonder which other adaptation of The Tempest has Prospero as the big bad HMMMM :thinking:

Enter Aime Cesaire and A Tempest. Written in 1969, it deals with a lot of the more unpleasant connotations of Shakespeares play. Let me lay it all out for you. So you're saying Prospero, a white dude, comes to this island, uses his western magic to overthrow the native witch (Sycorax), wrecks the land of its magic, and then enslaves her son to do his work for him, constantly insulting his appearance and intelligence? HMMMM seems pretty sus (racist and colonial) to me.

Cesaire, writing during a time of decolonial movements throughout the world, was rightfully really mad at colonizers for forcing their way upon natives with violence, and especially with the use of language to control said populations. Caliban has also been repeatedly dehumanised through previous adaptations of Shakespeares work slowly turning him from a man into a monster, not even human. This is similar to how non-european people have constantly been treated in the past.

Now like wait... Forcing communication through a set language? Dehumanisation? Colonisation of oppressed peoples? Where have we seen that before...? HMMMM

(its almost like... permet scores and gundam technology... Calibarn being free of permet links is like Caliban refusing language...)

And here's where I see the great potential of a Gundam Caliban. Gundam is certainly no stranger to decolonial movements (shoutout to my fave Gundam ZZ and the bois in Blue team and the African liberation front) and I think having Caliban as the Gundam to finally end Spacian oppression (perhaps in a sequel idk if Suletta is getting that far after bonking her mom by the end of the season) would be a great take.

As a side note, Aerial is kinda portrayed negatively in Cesaire's work for choosing to work for Prospero in exchange for their own freedom, as kind of a sellout who makes things worse and is ultimately tricked and trapped anyways and... hey! She's in a giant coffin now and Suletta is unhappier than ever! Oops.

Also like I qrted this on my twt but like its important to remember that Caliban is human too, and will respond to accordingly. They (and this might be where i disagree with @adracat a lil on their otherwise excellent posts) arent just a violent unthinking monster, thats just unfortunately how racism often portrays people of colour. If Suletta shows compassion and humanity towards Calibarn, like how she did to Aerial, and how Eri was able to connect with Lfrith in the prologue when Vanadis had failed, I'm sure she'll be able to bring Calibarn over to her side. And because they can connect so fully via human emotions and love (this is where I do agree with adra that love is the answer and key to open the door) (wooo yeah another love powered robot!! G Gundamming time) I dont think Quiet Zero will be able to stop them, as Suletta will have made the ultimate, unmediated connection between woman and machine, becoming one with it in the way Cardo Nabo had always truly hoped for. To don Gundam and live in space.

Okay sorry for the disorganised post but like one last thing I know I said it'd be nice for Calibarn to show up again in S2 but the other theory I have (which might or might not be true cos lets be real gwitch only rhymes, never copies, and i dont even know where schwarzette fits into all this [goatmom gundam my beloved i miss schwarzletta theory still]) is that the ending of A Tempest has Prospero send the girlies off as usual, but then still choose to stay on the island to fight with Caliban forever, till he can finally fully dominate him, cos racists are shit like that. This continues for a rlly long time cos his magics kinda prevent him from just dying of old age and he lives on, like a vampire sucking life from the island (wow capitalism huh) and its implied he and Caliban are just locked in this long struggle to the death until the day he finally croaks and the colonized can finally be free. Now what other gundam has an eternal struggle with fascism hmm?

idk just thought it might be cool for the gundam sisters to push suletta out of the way (maybe out of quiet zero?) whilst trapping prosperas grudge within it for all time, that would also be dramatic and neat lol. Come to think of it if Prospera does it itd be like ZZ again too lol with Haman pushing Judau away.

#g witch #g witch spoilers #suletta mercury #caliban #prospera mercury #the tempest #ok im so sorry for making such a trash first post rip #this is why they taught me essay skills but its okay no ones grading this one #except the opinions of the internet oh no #if this turns out to be true im gonna pop off so hard #yay obscure decolonialism and tempest lore

[yamayuandadu]

Do you think Zanmu and Hisami could ever indulge in a proper romantic relationship, as supposed to the one sided crush poor Hisami is trapped in right now? Additionally, do you think Hisami is actually connected to Izanami, or just another member of the youkai species her servants are?

I think this is the first time in ages that I got a shipping ask. I’m pretty happy about this. I actually like talking about shipping a lot even if my blog is dominated by posts like “check out this obscure religious pamphlet, really illuminating on the connection between Matarajin and Iizuna Gongen”. Zanhisa is probably going to end up in my top 3 of Touhou pairings. Might even dethrone Mokoukeine as the #2 (side note - Keine needs more than 1 pairing with some canon backing). So, thanks for asking about it. Due to length the response to your two questions has been placed under the cut.

Realistically? It’s probably not happening in canon because even if ZUN’s intent really is to present Hisami as romantically interested in Zanmu, as we are hoping, this is a heavily status quo dependent series. I’m afraid Hisami is as likely to change her relationship status as Okina is to actually find replacements for Mai and Satono. On top of that, recent “loyal henchman” characters are often struggling with reappearances. I’m pessimistic if Hisami will fare any better in that regard than Mai, Satono or Mayumi, especially with no new print works in sight. Subjectively?  I think what I already said makes the answer obvious - of course I think it can work. It’s the classic henchman ship, the lifeblood of f/f pairings since 1800 BCE (or earlier). The whole game is a boon to people who like that sort of setup when you think of it (unless you like Shou/Nazrin - not much on that front tragically). They clearly have interests  and lifestyle choices in common, too, and that’s basically a solid chunk of what makes a relationship work. I think whether a relationship between Zanmu and Hisami can work is something that depends more on Zanmu than Hisami, though. The fact that we have direct confirmation that Zanmu doesn’t know why Hisami acts the way she does is a plus, since it’s not hard to imagine that Suika’s accusations, which do not seem baseless, have a lot to do with her being seemingly able to figure others out. So, someone who doesn’t really fall in this category already has the benefit of being on more equal terms with her than anyone else. The fact that Hisami’s bio mentions she generally gets involved in Zanmu’s schemes and it’s not a one off thing imo does indicate Zanmu cares about her on some level. I’d imagine she would’ve replaced her with someone else otherwise, given that she presumably messes up on purpose often enough for Zanmu to be aware that’s going to happen. Once again, in the light of Suika’s comments about treating others instrumentally it feels sensible to me to assume that there’s some genuine sympathy at play. A lot depends on how you interpret Hisami’s ending, also - if we’ll learn at some point that Zanmu invites her to parties regularly, it’s probably not very meaningful and just professional courtesy. If it’s a first, which is the impression I got, I would say from a shipping perspective it’s basically like a date. That’s how I plan to use it in a fic (coming soon), fwiw. It’s true Zanmu doesn’t take her to the other party, but perhaps that boils down to it being a political event. Given what sort of blog this is, I think I should point out that a relationship, or at least experiencing some other form of intimacy, would actually fit Zanmu’s whole corrupt slash eccentric monk gimmick. Not following the prescribed rules on celibacy was actually one of the more standard criticisms in the texts where the idea of corrupt monks turning into demons originates in. And on top of that it seems Zanmu’s historical counterpart according to a legend was a student of Ikkyu, a notably anti-celibacy eccentric monk who is famous for, among other things, his relationship with a certain Mori, a biwa hoshi (wandering blind musician) who is mentioned in many of his poems. What I’m saying is, thematically being in a relationship feels as appropriate for Zanmu as not being fond of tengu is for Okina. She should indulge in it.

She even already has the skeleton thing going on, like Ikkyu does in art. She just needs to get a girlfriend and she will truly live up to the Zen eccentric standards. As for the second question: while we do not know how this works in Touhou, there are no “generic” yomotsu-shikome in real myths. They only ever appear in the myth of Izanagi’s escape from Yomi. No source actually explains where they came from, but alongside the yomotsu-ikusa (similarly of unspecified origin) and the thunder gods born from Izanami last minute they chase him on Izanami’s behalf both in Kojiki and Nihon Shoki. The latter clarifies there are only 8 of them, and to my best knowledge there are no additional more obscure sources which would contradict any of this. I personally think it’s fair game to assume Izanami does exist in Touhou, unless ZUN explicitly confirms Keiki and Eika have genealogy incompatible with their origin myths (Tsukuyomi and Amaterasu can in theory exist without Izanami). So, by extension I do not think there’s any reason to assume the yomotsu-shikome have nothing to do with her, at least if you’re the sort of fan who likes digging for backstory material in genuine mythology and folklore. Note that both Tsukasa and Biten directly reference the Izanagi and Izanami myth involving yomotsu-shikome, too. This being said, I do not think there’s much of a reason to have yomi as a separate location in Touhou in the present day, or to have Hisami be disconnected from the Ministry. We do not really know much about the position of yomotsu-shikome in the setting so far - I honestly doubt we ever will - but in AFiEU Hecatia mentions that there were various entities in hell who were there before yamas and oni started organizing it, and that some of them support the yama and oni way of doing things. It seems like a natural spot for Hisami, seeing as “hell” in Touhou seems to encompass multiple types of afterlife, not just the Buddhist-style hell. Specifically when it comes to shipping, this would give Hisami a point of connection with Zanmu, who’s also in hell by choice.

#long post #zanhisa #zanmu nippaku #hisami yomotsu #touhou #spoilers