#this is rough writing lol

[raplinesmoon]

Also I’m the same anon who just read on the ropes!

The way you wrote Seokjin as a character 😩😘it made complete utter sense. he wasn’t just the funny guy he had depth and was conceived as a guy who had emotion as well so I LOVED IT😁

Hi On the Ropes anon (that is a mouthful, would you like me to call you something else?) 🥰

You don’t understand, OTR!Seokjin has my entire heart. I actually dreamt up the plot of the fic over a couple of weeks (lucid dreaming hehe 👀), and I just kept coming back to his character as the cornerstone of everything. I wanted to do exactly what you said, create a layered, complex Seokjin who was capable of emotions beyond cracking dad jokes. Not that funny Seokjin isn’t great, but I kind of think back to this one time the boys were asked who was the most romantic and I think Taehyung said Jin? I really saw his character as someone who struggled a lot in life, but also, no joke, falling in love with OC was life changing for them. Not just because of their situation, but also because the two of them, regardless of whether they ended up together or not, would forever inspire this cosmic shift in the other that rendered them unable to live life as they had previously.

It’s funny because I was actually thinking of them the other day and if you’ve read the epilogue, you know how things work out for them. But I wrote down this little scene of them, some time at 3:41am.

pairing: ex-boxer!Seokjin x lawyer!reader (from On The Ropes)

genre(s): fluff, slight angst

au(s): established relationship

word count: 425

warnings: wondering about what ifs

rating: pg (the OTR universe is 18+ in general)

a/n: I lowkey imagined this scene between them where they’re together after the 3 years apart, and just lying in bed (after some marathon sex ofc), and this is just what happens:

*spoilers below the cut if you haven’t read*

You feel Seokjin shift next to you, his warm palms coming to wrap around you waist, pulling you closer to him until you’re both a tangle of limbs, unable to tell where he ends and you begin. His faint breath fans across your neck, and right here, in his arms, you feel the safest you ever have. If home was a person, it’d be Kim Seokjin.

You hear his breath hitch, catching in his throat before he begins to speak. His voice rumbles, and a pleasant warmth settles into your body despite the chilly night air.

“What would you have done?” He asks. “If we’d never found each other again?”

You go limp in his arms, dread settling in at his question. That was a situation you’d never wanted to fathom happening to either of you. But you think back to those uncertain months before you’d found him again, and how you’d never managed to make your peace with the loss of his presence in your life.

You’d been okay, no doubt, doing better for yourself ,finally out of the rut that had plagued you for years. But your soul still felt fractured, as if there would forever be a tiny chip in the delicate glass walls that held your heart, one that would never be able to be repaired. Even if you could move on and live the happiest life you’d imagined, part of you would always belong to him.

Shaking your head, you let out a heavy sigh, not wanting to worry Seokjin this late at night. The two of you had more than enough creases and lines marring your once youthful faces.

“Jagiya,” you whisper against his ear, and immediately feel him melt, arms tightening around you. “I found you again. That’s what matters, right? And every day, I don’t take that for granted.”

Although you can’t see him smile, you feel it, his lips ghosting against your temple.

“I know,” he responds. “But for what it’s worth , ___, you were it for me. I’m not sure I would have ever been able to love someone else like I love you. Even Sooyoung. Everything I’d ever wanted, everything I’d seen my parents have, I wanted it with you. I still want it with you.”

Turning in his arms, you press a soft kiss to his lips, and the two of you linger for a few moments, lost in the feeling of each other. You’d never be able to get enough.

“Good thing we have nothing to worry about then, right?”

“Right.”

#asks #anon #feedback that makes me cry #this is rough writing lol #some bonus content for you sweet anon!! #bts #bts fanfiction #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts au #bts fics #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts fluff #Seokjin #Kim seokjin #Jin #Seokjin x reader #Seokjin fluff #Seokjin angst #Seokjin x you #Seokjin fic #Seokjin imagine #Jin fic #Jin imagine #Jin fluff #Jin angst #Seokjin fics #Seokjin imagines

[luxaofhesperides]

Soulmark AU + Sleeping Beauty ; requested by @candeartist422!

For the last few years, Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die.

It sounds cruel to say it that way. But the waiting is more painful, he thinks, than just mourning a lost love. It’s not like most people ever meet their soulmates anyways; his parents weren’t meant to be, but they still loved each other and had a life together. He wishes he could turn his focus away from his soulmate, but Duke is a romantic at heart and has always wanted to find the other half of his soul.

But since he was fourteen, his soulmark has dulled, fading in and out of color. What was once a vibrant blue crystal star, with eight points and a swirl of watercolor hues around it, dimmed more and more until Duke was sure he was watching his soulmate die slowly. 

His soulmate didn’t die then. Whoever they are got better, his soulmark gaining color, but it never went back to the way it was. For years after, Duke would check at the beginning and end of each day, keeping track of when it faded and when it regained its color. 

He thought his soulmate was sick. In and out of hospitals, fighting to stay alive.

And then it went nearly colorless. 

Duke doesn’t remember much about that day. He knows he woke up, brushed his teeth, the lifted up his shirt to check his soulmark in the mirror. The blue was almost completely gone, the star on his left hipbone nearly gray with how colorless it was. He started at it for a moment, shocked, and reality slid away from him as he retreated into the safety of his mind, fully dissociating. 

Bruce had found him when Duke didn’t show up for breakfast. He held him and offered quiet words of comfort that Duke couldn’t understand, but just having someone with him lessened the hurt of losing his soulmate. 

Seeing the color come back the next day, faint as it was, hurt even more.

A year later, Duke still can’t break the habit of checking his soulmark twice a day. It hasn’t changed at all, still faint and dim, but carrying just enough color to show that his soulmate was still alive. At the very least, they were still breathing, but his chance of ever meeting them is basically zero. Still, he can’t help but hope, wishing that he could meet them even once before they die and leave him forever. 

“Same as ever,” he murmurs to himself as he brushes his thumb against his soulmark. He’s terrified that he’s forgotten how beautiful the blue of it was when his soulmate was healthy. 

Duke doesn’t let himself think on it too much anymore. Though his thoughts often turn to his soulmate during quiet moments like these, the busy nature of Gotham is usually more than enough to pull his attention back to the here and now. There’s no use in obsessing over his soulmate anyways; they’re just going to die, sooner or later, and Duke knows he’ll never get to meet them. They’ll just be another empty space in his life, right next to his parents. 

“Come on, Thomas, focus,” he tells himself firmly, then gets dressed and heads down to the kitchen for breakfast.

The manor is quiet. It usually is in the mornings, with everyone from the night shift dead asleep and trying to get as much rest as they can before they have to start their day. Not that many of them stay in the manor these days; Duke and Damian are the only permanent residents at the moment, but Steph usually stays half with her mom and half in the manor during the summers when she’s home from college, and the others drop in whenever they feel like it. 

Bruce lives more in the Batcave than the manor, so he doesn’t really count. It’s also why Duke is surprised to see Bruce awake and dressed like a normal person, drinking coffee in the kitchen as if this is a normal occurrence. 

“Morning,” Duke offers.

“Good morning, Duke,” Bruce replies. “Sleep well?”

“Well enough. Alfred out or something?”

“He may have kicked me out of the Batcave to clean it up a bit,” Bruce answers tiredly. “Want me to make breakfast?”

Duke has heard the horror stories of Bruce’s attempts to make edible food in a kitchen. In the interest of not dealing with food poisoning, Duke shakes his head quickly and says, “Nah, it’s fine. I was kinda wanting to eat out for breakfast. Get out there as me, and not a mask, you know?”

“Mind if I join you? Alfred may forgive me for not sleeping if I willingly go outside.”

Duke laughs. “Sure man, as long as you pay.”

“I’ll drive, too.”

“What, don’t trust me behind a wheel?”

Bruce gives him a tired look, eyes dead and dull. “I have taught all my children how to drive. The day I willingly let them take the wheel when I am not actively dying is the day I’ve been replaced by a robot clone of myself who doesn’t know better yet.”

“That is… very specific. Is that a thing you usually worry about?”

“I’m Batman. I have to worry about everything.”

Yeah, that tracks. Duke wouldn’t be surprised if he has at least five contingency plans for that scenario, should it ever happen. “Well,” he says, “Right now, all you need to worry about is having your wallet and driving us down to The Foodie Nook. I’ve been craving their breakfast plates for ages.”

Bruce doesn’t object to his choice of restaurant and follows Duke down to the garage, grabbing a random set of keys and pointing it out to the many cars he owns. One near the front blinks its lights as it unlocks and Duke cheerfully tosses himself into the passenger seat as Bruce opens the garage door. 

The drive into Gotham is smooth. They don’t hit traffic until they reach the bridge that leads into the city proper, taking them away from the quiet of Bristol. The morning is busy, but not enough that Duke worries about being out as the Signal to help keep the peace. It’s a normal type of busy, one borne from people going about their lives, feeling safe enough to go out. 

The Foodie Nook is entirely local and very popular, so the parking lot is nearly full. But they expanded their space last year, which means he and Bruce don’t have to sit outside while they wait to grab a table. Bruce keeps conversation light and casual, well aware of the many listening ears around them, and it’s nice, feeling normal for once. 

Well, as normal as life can be with Bruce Wayne™. The server who comes to lead them to a table realizes who she’s talking to after she gets a proper look at them while holding open the door and promptly stutters over her words. 

“No need for any special treatment,” Bruce laughs lightly, “We’re just here for breakfast. Nothing special.”

“Of course,” she replies, cheeks red. “Um, right this way! We’ve got a table by the windows for you. Just two, yeah?”

“Yup! Just two. Thought this was a good day to spend some time with Duke. He’s a great kid, you know, I’m glad I was given the opportunity to foster him.”

The sunny, cheerful Bruce Wayne persona is so different from the usual Bruce he works with that it feels like he’s standing next to a stranger. But his words are sincere and warm his heart, filling up the gaps that his soulmate has left. 

“Here you are!” their server announces, showing them to their table. “I’ll be right back with some menus.” She’s gone in a rush, and other customers glance over before quickly averting their gaze. 

It’s one of the unspoken rules of Gotham: give the Waynes their privacy while they’re out in public. Questions and conversation are for public events only, but if they see a Wayne out and about during a normal day, everyone leaves them be unless spoken to first. Duke used to follow those rules as well when he was just another Gothamite. It’s strange being on the other side of that now that he’s in with the Waynes.

Duke barely has to look through the menu when it’s handed to him. The breakfast plates are his favorites and he gets one every single time he comes to The Foodie Nook; stacked full with breakfast foods from around the world. As a kid, he loved the Mexico Plate, but these days he’s craving either the Brazilian Plate or the Vietnamese Plate.  

He can’t decide on which one and thinks about tossing a coin to decide, but seeing how that’s Two Face’s whole thing, he decides to hold off and settle the matter with eenie-meenie-minnie-mo. 

He gets the Vietnamese Plate.

Bruce, on the other hand, reads through the entire menu like it’s a novel, then leans over and says rather loudly, “Duke, what’s a tort-illa.” 

The pain he feels hearing that is only worsened by the amusement in Bruce’s eyes. He’s doing it on purpose, playing up the Brucie act for the public so he can psychologically torment Duke. A few nearby customers choke back laughter, turning away to hide their smiles. 

Duke shakes his head and says, “Don’t worry about it. It’s just food. Don’t ask any more questions, I just want a peaceful breakfast.”

“Well then,” Bruce replies, “I suppose I know what to order now.”

As if she was summoned, their server reappears before them, cheeks still looking a little flushed. “Hi! Ready to order?”

She writes down their orders quickly, valiantly keeping a straight face at Bruce’s mispronunciation of tortilla, then heads off to deliver their orders to the kitchen. 

Rather than draw out a conversation with Brucie Wayne, Duke settles for playing a few idle games on his phone; his current favorite is one quiet cat cafe game where he directs cats into fulfilling cafe orders. 

Bruce, despite being out in his civilian identity, is working. He’s on his Batman phone, which looks the same as his other cell phones except this one has a bat symbol sticker just barely hiding a Superman sticker on the phone case. His brow is slightly furrowed as he reads whatever file he’s accessing from the Batcomputer. It’s a little worrying but it could be anything. Bruce makes the same expression when he reads one of Tim’s snarky comments getting quoted in the news.

But that’s not Duke’s problem! He’s here to enjoy his breakfast and it will take the end of the world itself to remove him from his seat before he’s done eating.

The game takes most of his attention until their food comes out, and by then Bruce has tucked away the smallest of his Batman mannerisms. They enjoy a normal, peaceful breakfast. Bruce ends it by asking their server if she has any debt that’s weighing her down, then giving her a tip that’s at least five thousand dollars above that. 

She does cry and Bruce hugs her. It’s very sweet. 

As soon as they get back into the car, his easy going smile drops and Duke knows some superhero nonsense is about to take over his day. 

“Duke,” Bruce starts, seriously, “I received a message from Zatanna.”

“Don’t drag this out,” Duke says, “Just give it to me straight. What terrible thing is about to happen to us?”

“It’s nothing too big. They just recently defeated a magical being who had been tearing apart secret government facilities in Illinois. He had both magic and a high tech weapon, which they confiscated and are delivering to me. The government agency he was fighting was suspiciously interested in the weapon, and based on their behaviors and newly revealed work, Zatanna made the decision to turn the weapon over to us so it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

Bruce smoothly merges into traffic as he speaks, getting them onto the road back to the manor. There’s a look in his eyes that means he’s keeping a lot unsaid, and Duke knows without a doubt that whatever this government agency was doing is bad if Zatanna needs Batman to act as extra security. 

He’s not sure about her decision to trust the weapon to be safe in Gotham, either. Sure, Batman will keep it as safe as he can, but with their luck, it’ll end up in the hands of a Rogue and lead to a lot of death and destruction. 

As soon as they cross the bridge and return to Bristol, Bruce steps on the gas and the car tears down the road. Without any other cars to worry about (or traffic laws), it takes barely two minutes to reach the manor, when the gates open for them and let them into the garage. 

Alfred waits for them by the door, looking them over with a critical eye. “I see you have managed to go outside, Master Bruce. What’s the special occasion?”

“Just breakfast,” Bruce answers. “I’m heading back down to the Batcave. Zatanna will be here soon to deliver a weapon.” He’s gone before Alfred can say anything more, hurrying down the hall and turning the corner, disappearing from sight as he heads towards his office. 

“I see we have yet to break that bad habit of his. Did you enjoy your morning out, Master Duke?”

“Sure did, Alfred. I’m, uh, also going down to the Batcave. He’s definitely not telling me a lot about what’s going on, so I’m just going to read about it over his shoulder. I’ll be back up for lunch, though!”

“And perhaps you’ll be able to drag Master Bruce away from that cave of his,” Alfred comments wryly as he walks with Duke towards the office. He gives Duke a nod, then splits away from him, returning to the kitchen where Duke can hear Damian speaking to someone, probably Tim by the annoyed tone of his voice, and mentally wishes Alfred luck in handling them.

Duke sets the correct time on the clock in Bruce’s office and heads down to the Batcave, taking the steps two at a time. 

Bruce is already at the Batcomputer, shoulders tensed, when he arrives. 

“More bad news?” he asks as he makes his way over.

Bruce doesn’t bother looking away from the screen as he says, “More details about the fight. It seems the magical being called himself a ghost and was going on a rampage due to a betrayal. He says they nearly killed his son.”

“Oh, yikes.”

“And two of the scientists working with the government agency said that he stole their son and is keeping them from saving him.”

“Yikes,” Duke says with more feeling.

He doesn’t get to hear anymore details about JLD’s fight with this ghost when he catches a flicker in the corner of his eye. Duke turns and stares at the empty space in the Batcave near the medbay and watches as colorful magic gathers and swirls in dizzing circles. The portal opens a moment later and Zatanna steps out, looking exhausted and lightly singed. 

“Batman,” she greets, holding a white gun that looks like it belongs in an early sci-fi movie from the 60s. “The GIW is trying to arrest us. Constantine keeps burning their badges and documents so it shouldn’t be a problem, but they are determined to get this back. I wouldn’t be surprised if they came after you next. They’ve got some way of tracking things, but I didn’t have time to get any details before I had to leave.”

Bruce takes the gun from her hands carefully, looking it over with a sharp gaze. “Why would a ghost want to use a gun?”

“I don’t know. He had a variety of powers, too.”

“What does this do?”

“Shoots ice. He never let it go and nearly burned me alive for taking it before we subdued him.”

“We’ll keep it locked up,” Bruce promises. 

Zatanna sighs. It looks as though a physical weight fell off her shoulders. “Thanks. I’m going to head back to stop Constantine from getting into a fistfight with the GIW agents.”

She opens another portal with a waved hand and a muttered spell. Bruce is already walking away to set the gun down on a work station, so Duke is the one to wave Zatanna goodbye. 

By the time he reaches Bruce’s side, the gun is already dismantled, all pieces neatly set aside. Sticky notes denote which pieces go together and in what order. It looks the same as most guns, save for the aesthetic, but the heart of it is a glowing blue orb, large enough to cover the entirety of Bruce’s palm, and it brings a chill to the air.

Duke stares at it and feels his soulmark burn ice cold.

“Duke?”

It’s in his hands. He doesn’t remember reaching out to take it, but it’s in his hands. He can’t take his eyes off of it, cradling it gently and bringing it closer to his chest. 

It’s the same blue his soulmark once was. Before his soulmate began to fade, before every day became a waiting game to see how long his soulmate will last before they die. 

This has something to do with his soulmate. He’s sure of it. 

He won’t let anyone take it from him. 

“Duke. Give that to me.”

He doesn’t feel like he’s in his body. He’s detached, floating somewhere outside his body, puppeteering his limbs, making them move without feeling the motion. Shadows condense around his feet and Bruce takes a step back, wary. 

“Duke,” he says again, but Duke can’t find any words, can’t draw on his voice, can’t even look away from the bright, bright blue of the orb. It pulses lightly in his hand like a heartbeat. 

Bruce reaches a hand out. 

He’s pulled back by shadows before he can get close, and Duke holds the orb against his chest, right against his heart, and feels the cold seep into him. 

“Duke. I need you to look at me.” This time, Bruce’s voice has Batman’s growl in it, a heavy command that he can’t help but instinctively follow. He looks up and meets Bruce’s eyes, but he can’t focus. All his awareness is in his hands and the heartbeat of the glowing orb.

“I have to protect this,” Duke manages to whisper. “I… I think it’s alive.”

“Okay. Let’s get you to the medbay so you can sit down. We’ll figure this out, Duke.”

Bruce slowly, carefully, sets his hand on Duke’s shoulder. He keeps his attention away from the orb, so Duke allows it and lets Bruce guide him to the medbay and onto one of the medical cots. Bruce leaves him after a minute of quiet fussing, muttering about calling Zatanna.

Whatever. None of that matters when the heartbeat of the orb grows stronger, steadier, and Duke feels it match the beat of his own heart.

Time slips away from him. Distantly, he hears people move around the cave, speaking in low tones. A hand presses against his shoulder, warm, then moves away. 

The orb in his hand moves. 

Duke blinks slowly, then claws his way back to awareness, pushing past the haze that’s fallen over his mind. The orb turns over in his hand, then cracks right down the middle. The glow grows stronger, washing the medbay in blue light and a symbol appears on the orb.

It’s his soulmark. 

Later, he won’t be able to say why he did it. There were no thoughts, no reasonings, no explanations. Duke simply moved on instinct and lifted the orb up to his face and pressed a soft kiss against it. 

One moment, the orb was still.

The next, it had burst in a flash of light that blinded everyone in the Batcave, and then a thin, injured teenager had fallen into Duke’s lap. 

Hands immediately grab him, pulling him away from Duke. The teenager puts up no fight, eyes barely open, but he reaches for Duke weakly. On his wrist is the bright blue snowflake, the color strong and vivid. 

“That’s me soulmate,” Duke whispers as he watches Bruce and Tim set the boy down on another medical cot. 

“What?” Tim says, turning to face Duke, concern clear on his face. 

“That’s my soulmate,” he repeats, louder. Then, panicked, he pulls up his shirt enough to see his own soulmark; the color is still dull, weak, barely there, but it’s more blue that it has been in a while. He doesn’t need to say anything. Tim sees the dullness of his soulmark, looks at the boy, and puts the pieces together on his own.

“I’ll call Doc Thompkins,” he says, already moving to fix everything. Bruce remains where he is, making sure the boy is tucked in and breathing steadily before he returns to Duke. 

“Are you alright?”

Duke swallows roughly, unable to tear his eyes away from the boy. He’s pale and thin, as if he’d been starved, and there’s frost beginning to spread on the bedsheet from his fingers. “He’s my soulmate,” Duke manages to say. “He’s been dying for two years.”

Bruce’s eyes a hard, a determined light in them. “We’ll save him,” he promises. 

If anyone can, it’s Batman. 

If anyone can, it’s them, Batman and the Signal, and their entire network of family and friends. 

Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die all this time. Now, he’s going to save him.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #i dont really know much abt jld so they are not really in here #just duke trying to live his life and have a nice day with bruce #when his soul mate gets thrown at him in the form of an ORB #(ghost core but they dont know that yet) #dannys gonna have to answer so many questions once hes awake bc not many know abt realms beings #its gonna be rough for him bc he's been asleep for 2 years in his core bc he was never safe enough to recover #until duke gave him a boost (plus the power of soulmates really helped him) and he woke up #in a cave with his soulmate and a whole crew of superheroes #what a thing to open ur eyes to. rip danny lol #thanks for the prompt!

[harbingersglory]

hii could i req an soft dom arlecchino x sub/fem reader?? something w a really needy whiny reader n maybe like a mommy kink or thigh riding IDK tysm for ur time !

{☆} characters arlecchino {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader {☆} warnings 18+ content

"Slowly, doll. We're not in a rush." Arlecchino reprimands lightly, squeezing your hips with just enough force to keep you unmoving on her thigh– she was still being gentle, but the subtle warning in her tone spoke to how easily she could push you against the desk and turn you into such a mess that you couldn't even remember your own name..just that you were hers.

But the barest hint of stimulation from her slacks pressed against your throbbing cunt had you twitching, barely able to form words. All you could think about was the scorching, twisting need building in your stomach, desperation for relief slowly climbing until you'd think she was doing this on purpose to drive you mad.

"Please– 'm a good girl, right? I've been good.." You choked out, only to be met with the rough, husky laugh echoing in your ear that made you feel dizzy with a rush of need, her nails gliding along the skin of your hips as she pressed you down even more firmly– you couldn't see her face but it was easy to imagine the crooked smile twisting her lips at the way you inhaled sharply and tried to buck against her thigh.

"Shh. I know, doll. I've got you, just relax." She murmured in that sickly sweet tone that always had your knees buckling, the raspiness of her voice sending shivers down your spine. It was almost impossible to relax with her so close, the notes of metal lingering on her skin despite how well she presents herself– but you trusted her, despite how you know you shouldn't.

"There we go. Good girl." Arlecchino's grip on your hips loosened just enough for you to move if you so wished, and oh did it take every ounce of restraint to not do just that..she hadn't said you were allowed to, and you weren't about to spoil her good mood by being a brat. Not tonight, anyway. "Do you want to cum, doll?"

The fervent nod you offer in place of words draws a laugh from her lips, one that is almost mocking, making your face flush in embarrassment– but the sudden tap against your hip makes your mind go blank to the point you forget it all together, focused only on the feeling of her thigh rubbing against your cunt as you bucked against her thigh, the fabric slick and wet against your inner thighs. You'd have half the heart to be embarrassed about that, too, if not for the sudden brush of her thumb against your aching, neglected clit. Just that small touch has you speeding up your movements, practically drooling as you whimpered like a dog in heat.

"That's more like it, doll. Such a pretty girl." Arlecchino hummed, her other hand trailing up your stomach, between the valley of your breasts and ghosting across your throat before settling on grabbing your jaw in a firm, yet almost tender touch as she tilted your head to the side just enough for her to pull you into a burning kiss. It left you lightheaded, grinding down against her thigh as she claimed your mouth as her own, her thumb still ghosting over your clit sporadically.

She'd spent so long teasing you, constantly touching you but never where you needed her, that you already felt like you were going to snap like a wire. She must've been in a really good mood, then, when she pulled away from the kiss with an almost predatory lick of her lips, yet she settled on pressing kisses to your skin rather then the usual sharp bite of her teeth as they sunk into the curve of your shoulder.

"Are you close? Go on. I want to see your face when you cum– you look the prettiest when you finally break apart, doll." Arlecchino mused idly– as if she wasn't talking to you while you continued to rub your aching cunt against her thigh, chasing your own release through shaky, strained breaths. Her thumb swiped over your lips, brushing strands of hair stuck to your skin from your face– at the same time as she swiped her thumb more firmly against your clit, creating a vicious contrast that had you both melting at the barest hint of almost softness from her and the touch of her hand between your legs, dragging you into an orgasm that leaves you trembling and, had she not shoved her fingers into your mouth, screaming, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.

"All done, little doll. Take it easy." She murmured, voice so quiet you almost didn't hear it, thumb swiping across your cheek to wipe away the stray tear, her hands pulling away to settle on your sides. "You did well– good girl. Let me take it from here."

#genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #minors dni #writing tag #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino smut #i considered the mommy part for half a second but i see arle as the biggest butch and i didnt want 2 swap it on the fly looks around #the projection is just a little too hard my bad. i am obnoxiously annoying abt butch arle... #n e way ough soft arle...........not done enough......arle being rough is a given bc shes Like That but like #soft....... #i am weak for a woman who can do both and switch on a dime #arle imo leans like. 80-90% towards rough but shes got a soft spot if shes in a good mood yknow.. #i wrote this at 1 am on like uhhh 2 hrs of sleep if it isnt good uhhhhh blame it on that lol #im just feeling it out rn anyway tryna get into writing proper smut again its been a hot minute oop #passes out and dies ough...................... #also did NOT spellcheck i just wrote it all in one sitting and called it a day i am gonna pass out now so if u see a typo.... #no u didnt #im not done yet wait a minute okay now just. soft arle got me okay. its rlly rare but shes good at playing nice okay #the appeal of arle is fucked up little creature but sometimes u want 2 be pampered i get it #OKAY im actually shutting up now passes out in the middle of the road

[ganondoodle]

(totk rewritten/botw 2 concepts)

Vah Narisha! elaborated on things and slightly polished it

(info written on there but for ease of reading writing it here again)

-its a prototype titan (divine beast) that crash landed on an island and was left there, its name is based on the big sky whale from skyward sword (its german name)

its very overgrown and half broken, with its tail hanging off the edge, but if you try to use the infusion power of links shiekah arm it will suddendly twitch and empty your entire energy meter immediately since it uses more power than you could provide on your own- serving as a hint that it can be reactivated

once its reactivated (zelda helps, perhaps with a quest attached) it will fly in circle patterns across the sky, you cannot control it (its still a half broken prototype after all) but you can use it as a place to rest and reach other islands that are very hard to reach otherwise

single parts will suddendly move and twitch or freeze as its ... a damaged prototype, its a slight hazard as the shaking can throw you off if you are standing in a bad spot (but not so much you cant reach it again), occasionally it will lose some parts

unlike the "modern" titans, who require the main energy network sourced from mainly ganondorf as their power source if there is no pilot/champion (thus stopped working after the intro), vah narisha draws energy from its surroundings, just like links arm does, so its still able to function even after gan wakes up; however the amount available is barely enough to keep it afloat and that only moving very slowly too- it is unclear if the reason for other malfunctions or unavaible controls is bc of lack of power or damage, probably being both, but after taking off there is no way to try and repair it further since you cant control it and it would pose a danger by falling if misshandled so its mostly left to its own devices

its not required for anything of the main story or to traverse the sky, but it is a cool thing and can make it easier to reach things, the idea for it is mainly from the unused prototype hanging in the hateno lab in botw since my goal is to make totk into botw 2 i thought its a neat idea to bring in previously scrapped ideas :3

#ganondoodles #zelda #art #tloz #ganondoodles rewrites totk #botw 2 #my arm hurts from writing all those notes on the drawing lol #i might change its design later to match the hateno model more #but for now i think its enough of it #was probably a mistake to post the wip and on the same day as the full thing #though its still pretty rough #anyway #i have #so many ideas

[kelocitta]

i saw your post on how you were thinking about handling the Whole Artificer Thing and i say, let em be a villain! i think it would be fun

I don't have any qualms about Artificer being cruel or whatever; I just don't think that when working them into an anthro doing a 1-to-1 transfer of their behaviors and/or making them just flat out racist/genocidal is an interesting or accurate way to characterize them. (and I just have. Negative interest in working with that type of character) People can do whatever they want but ultimately I just find the idea that anything other making them aggressively genocidal is like, woobifying them, tiring.

Artificer is obviously not good in the context of the game. But the problem and focus of their actions is the scale and spiritual aspect of it, not the actions themselves. Other slugcats are perfectly capable of killing scavengers, most players likely will and many who don't are only held back by the consequences. Scavengers are also warriors, and Artificer's whole campaign is basically set up on the fact that scavengers are defensive and very much follow a 'shoot first' method of self preservation.

So why does Artificer have always be the one thats uniquely villainous in behavior (now with significantly more moral weight behind it than they had as an animal) when the other slugcats, and even the scavengers, get properly 'civilized' when people make them anthros? I just don't think its an interesting way to utilize them, and I won't fault people who do- but like- I feel like if Artificer is going to be Like That when they can walk and talk and do taxes or whatever than at bare minimum the other slugcats and scavengers' relationship with violence/murder/hunting should be touched on.

I'm not making Artificer a good person. I don't want them to be a good person, because I think the fact they are so bad that they have problems on a spiritual level to be the interesting part. Technically, the Artificer I do for anthro stuff has already done their 'Scav King' and found their 'closure'. They set out to do something awful and did it, they got their ending. So now theyre just old and tired and mean and miserable because getting what you want isnt a solution.

#long post #ask #rw anthro #i want her to get worse but not in a 'i kill scavengers because im fucked up and evil' kinda way #i want her to get worse because theres something wrong with her shes not gonna address until it rots her from the inside out #even in this sense her early relationship with hunter is more #founded in her views of life being just generally bad and connecting w/ hunters illness in that way #as for hunter their connection starts out as mostly being in a rocky place due to their developing symptoms and liking that #artificer lets them ignore the feelings being suddenly ill causes #its not the best relationship lol #but its also messy and rough since i cant write for shit

[thethirstybean]

Optimus Prime with a breeding kink (obviously). But. Different from the usual depictions.

Forget him telling his S/O the classic dominant things about what he's going do to them (without so much as a stutter, despite being in the middle of fragging them).

I want to see him bent over his S/O, fragging with the intent to breed, with him being the one who's losing his mind - not his partner.

Let him choke and whimper or growl and groan. Let him be beyond coherent speech. This whole breeding thing is his kink, after all. Let him be overwhelmed by it <3

#i had a rough draft of example dialogue #but i don't know how to write smut and it shows #it's not terrible but it's not good either #lol #transformers #maccadam #any continuity really #but especially #tfp #and #idw #valveplug #random thoughts

[stxrshxpxd]

“i can hardly breathe around you”

paring: 90s damon albarn x reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: smut

prompt: reader finds herself in an inappropriate dream about her oldest and best friend, and when she moans his name he responds.

I was somewhere between sleeping and waking and Damon’s hands were keeping me in my dream, wrapping tightly around my waist as his lips attached to my neck. I squirmed under him, panting and moaning in desperation for more, and when his fingers squeezed my flesh harder I let out a whimper of his name. For a few seconds it all felt right. He continued kissing down my neck, until he suddenly replied and everything ripped from me in an instant. His hands, his lips, his breath on my skin, all gone.

“Y/N?” my best friend of fifteen years asked in a soft voice and stared me down from next to me on my bed. He grimaced with confusion and concern. Reality flooded back to me in a heartbeat and I remembered we had been watching TV on my bed, we had both gradually lost interest, he had muted it and picked up his book, and I had slipped into a nap. Then I had moaned his name and clearly not just in my dreams.

“Yes?” I breathed, deciding to play dumb.

“Care to share your dream?” Damon asked, eyes fixed on me and book splayed open against his chest. Some amusement had joined the confusion in his face. My pulse quickened.

I quite literally couldn’t find in my brain what to say to him and all I could do was watch the emotions evolve in his expressions.

I had been beating myself up for a while because something had happened about a month ago and I had completely lost my mind, I thought. Seeing my best friend in a non-platonic light was simply unthinkable. But, gosh, that soft stare of his and that bottom lip gently caught between his teeth!

“Will you close your eyes?” he asked after too long a silence on my end.

I stared at him instead, for a long time, barely breathing. He asked again and I recognised something stirring wildly in his gaze. I couldn’t remember anything ever having been this serious between us before. It frightened me and I resorted to doing what he asked of me.

With my breath shallow and shaky and eyes softly closed, at last I felt Damon’s lips gently press against mine. My brain stopped working for a minute but then the only thing I could think to do was to reach my hand out, finding his chest was rid of the book and it was turning towards me. Closer, closer, closer. Until my hand was locked between our beating chests and he was determinedly kissing down my jaw and neck.

I wanted his lips everywhere on me and I blushed wildly at the thought. I had been doing a fine job at suppressing all these emotions for the last month, but he was making it really hard for me now.

“Damon,” I started when his lips jumped to my lower stomach and his fingers began to hook into my waistband. He glanced up from under his golden fringe and my stomach fluttered at the eye contact. My toes were twitching wildly with nerves and excitement. Really I didn’t want him to stop for even a second, but it was all so weird.

He simply smiled calmly at me and kissed my skin again while my sweatpants were pulled down my legs. That smile of his had calmed me so many times before and for the next moment I felt at ease. I even closed my eyes and let a half shaky but deep breath out, and I allowed his warm palms to spread my thighs apart.

“My god, you’re wet,” he whispered, astounded. “Dream-me is that good, huh?”

I laughed but my cheeks burned with embarrassment, impulsively trying to close my legs again and reaching to push his shoulders away. But he stayed and firmly held my legs apart.

“Hey, it’s me,” Damon reminded me in a smooth voice.

“Exactly!” I laughed nervously, finding it nearly impossible to get past the absurdity of having my best friend’s breath fan over my damp underwear while his hands clasped around the inside of my thighs. God, his hands though!

“Exactly,” he echoed in a quiet voice and raised his brows. I knew he was referring to my moaning his very name in my sleep just minutes ago, and I sighed.

Within seconds his lips were back on me again but this time they kissed me through my pants and I thought my heart jumped out of my chest for a moment. He did it again. And again. And he added more pressure and then his tongue. I screwed my eyes shut and at last couldn’t feel anything past the pleasure. For the next few minutes I could hardly recall the embarrassment, as he peeled my underwear to the side and once again buried his face in me.

“Do you wanna say my name again?” Damon tried his luck as I had begun breathing heavily and letting little moans out. His voice vibrated through my abdomen and I felt a hint of my high teasing me momentarily.

“Damon,” I whispered cautiously and felt his teeth against my hot skin as he grinned.

“Mhm,” he murmured into me again and continued lapping up my wetness with his skilled tongue, pushing me towards my edge.

“I’m gonna…” I whined but felt the embarrassment come over me again. “Fuck.. Dames!”

Calling him by his sweet nickname made me cringe for a second, but he continued smirking through his kissing and licking and sucking and I couldn’t stop my thighs from clasping around his head. The orgasm pierced through my body, making my legs tremble and my voice settle in a defeated whimper.

Quickly reality caught up with me again once I made it out of the haze and I was partly mortified as my oldest and best friend kissed up my body again and his lips reconnected with mine.

We spent an eternity kissing between shaky breaths and in my head I yelled at my cheeks until they eventually cooled a tad.

“Can we really do this?” I asked in a barely audible whisper.

“I don’t know if you were here just now but we just did,” he teased and we both laughed, my eyes still closed and our mouths constantly balancing between kissing and breathing.

“Yeah, I guess we did.”

A minute passed of slightly more kissing than breathing and then it evened out again.

“Did you know lately I can hardly breathe around you?” I whispered and barely felt his lips curl into a smirk. I peaked at it slightly but made sure not to look him in the eye.

“Yeah, I noticed,” he mumbled with his smirk widening and a chuckle pouring out of him and into me. I smiled and laughed gently too.

Damon slid off of me but just about everything of his stayed touching me and his head laid just next to mine, noses grazing. There was only breathing for the better half of a minute. At last I felt our familiar comfortable silence coming back to us. I stared at his face and studied his eyes, brows, cheeks and nose and lips. Then my gaze drifted to the ledge where the wall met the ceiling and I let my mind wander to more trivial territory for a breather.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“I’m worried what my hair will look like tomorrow if I wear it in a bun to bed,” I answered honestly and instantly I felt the hot breath of his laughter hit my face. We chuckled together and he smiled back at me with twinkling eyes.

“See, this is us!” he insisted. “We still talk about silly things and laugh. Only we have sex too.”

My cheeks flushed red again but I couldn’t stop smiling. I reached my hand out to poke my fingertips around in the side of his hair and let another few moments pass as I pondered.

“Could we also… hold hands?” I suggested, stomach fluttering anxiously again. “And kiss?”

Damon gave me a slight nod.

“And not kiss other people?”

At that his smile grew and he was quick to respond.

“I can’t remember what it’s like kissing anyone else.”

A laugh bubbled inside me and my hand caught his cheek and pressed our lips together again.

“Good job. That was the right answer,” I mumbled into our kiss.

#so i found a rough draft and finished it up :)) don’t know if this means IM BACK WRITING but enjoy this #rewriting the damon-cant-give-head narrative one smut at a time ✊🏼 #lol he’s so weird we hate him huh #blur #britpop #90s #damon albarn #fic #imagine #y/n #damon albarn x reader

[necromeowncy]

♡♡♡

#*pokes my head in* hi #I'm taking a hiatus from my main on Twitter #I guess I'm only kinda taking one here? not sure yet #Tumblr has always been a safe and welcoming place for me for the most part so I'm trying to be a little more open here ♡ ;w; #so to anyone reading these tags #I've been going through a very rough patch in terms of fandom/personal life/XIV Twitter/the wolgraha sphere in general #Mainly my perception on social media #but since I started my hiatus from public twitter I've been doing SO much better mentally #been writing and gposing every day and it feels nice to create again #creating for myself and my own very specific tastes feels good so I will keep doing that! :) #so here you go! some bathtime AedRaha #I'm very in love with AedRaha and always will be #thank you for reading these tags if you did <3 sorry if I was a bit vague lol I've had a lot going on lately #wolgraha #wol x g'raha tia #aedric vaillencourt #elezen #gpose #my poses #g'raha tia #AedRaha

[wikiangela]

tease tidbit tuesday/wip wednesday

tagged by @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @tizniz @diazsdimples @dangerpronebuddie @spotsandsocks @exhuastedpigeon @underwaterninja13 - tagging y'all back for wip wednesday 💖💖

doing two in one bc it's technically wednesday already idc lol - started a new wip I mentioned before (inspired by this video lol) and rn I'm rewriting what I wrote yesterday bc the past two days words were not wording and I hated everything I wrote, but I think I'm happy with it now haha I hope I'll manage to write it like I want to bc it's sooo good in my head istg haha

(wasn't gonna post until i have more but i need validation before i drive myself crazy over this lol)

___

It started as a random idea, more like a throwaway thought, really. Tommy was just checking the weather for the next few days – his hot pilot boyfriend always likes to be prepared – while they were hanging out, and he casually mentioned that “it’s gonna be nice on Saturday, perfect barbecue weather,” which got Buck to mention how they often have family barbecues at Bobby and Athena’s. Somehow, the conversation spiraled, and Buck’s not sure who threw out a more concrete idea, but here they are now, standing side by side in Tommy’s kitchen, preparing food – Buck’s currently slicing veggies for a salad, while Tommy takes care of the meat – for the barbecue where they invited way too many people than Tommy’s backyard can probably fit. It really is nice weather, the sliding door leading from the kitchen to the backyard open and letting in warm sunshine and a soft breeze that makes the air feel cooler. They work in pleasant silence, the only sound is quiet music playing from the speaker, and Buck can’t help a fond smile when he hears his boyfriend hum along, so off-key Buck’s not sure he even knows the song, but it’s still adorable.

The silence is disrupted by the doorbell ringing, and before Tommy can even move, Buck is dropping the knife on the cutting board, wiping his hands, and sprinting towards the door, shouting an “I got it!” over his shoulder. He’s followed by an echo of Tommy’s fondly amused chuckles. So he’s a little excited, sue him – they haven’t had a family day like this in a while, and there was only one he brought Tommy to, all of their schedules not so easy to align. And today his whole family will be here, including their spouses and children, and Tommy invited a couple of his friends and their families, too, and it’ll be just a big, loud, chaotic get-together that he’s hosting with his boyfriend. Buck never hosted one of these before, and he’s really enjoying it so far, and he just wants everyone to have fun.

___

no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck

@eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life

@diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @weewootruck @loveyouanyway

@spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove

@nmcggg @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @bidisasterevankinard @giddyupbuck

@sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings

@buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @your-catfish-friend

@daffi-990 @hoodie-buck @aroeddiediaz

#tease tidbit tuesday #wip wednesday #wikiangela writes #bucktommy fic #fic snippet #my writing #my wips #911 fic #911 abc #bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #buck x tommy #bucktommy wip #fireflight #firepilot #tevan #bucktommy barbecue fic #the beginning was fighting me for two days but I think (hope) I got it now #pls tell me it's okay bc the first version was *rough* lol #istg i spent like an hour today on the opening sentence and then ended up writing something totally different #this fic will be pure fluff bucktommy + 118 family feels bc buck wants his bf to hang out with his fam #im also giving tommy some friends from work (and having way too much trouble making up names lmao) #(also lots of tommy with kids bc that'd be adorable and he gives me the vibe of the kind of person kids are just drawn to lol) #idk we'll see how it works out haha

[willowser]

katsuki jumps, startlingly, when you rub a hand up his back.

he's leaned too far down, bent over the counter at an angle that will give him an ache he'll complain about later, and his head whips up as you come to stand beside him. an e-mail on his phone is what previously had his full attention, but now he looks at you, eyes softening as you lean into his shoulder.

he's never been a very touchy guy. even after a year into your relationship, it's most often you reaching for his hand as you walk down the street; you pressing a kiss into his cheek while watching a movie on the couch; you running a hand through his hair as his breath steadies out beside you in bed.

it's not something you really complain about. you know how he is, knew before anything developed between the two of you, and you can't say it's a deal-breaker. there's little you know about his previous relationships or if he even had any, but you have the painful-gut feeling that affection just isn't something he's used to.

you press a smile into the sleeve of his shirt and his spine relaxes under your hand, finds that awful curve again. he watches you like he's waiting for something, tracing the tender details of your face.

"love you," you say, because do and you want to voice it aloud, put it into his mind even though you know he knows. as expected, his lips flatten into a wavering little line, shy suddenly, and your teeth wet the fabric of his shirt when you smile.

all you get is a little grunt in response and he dips his chin down in a wordless nod, accepting your lovey-dovey assault. it makes him feel a little helpless, you know, but you bring up an arm to wrap around him as he turns back to his phone, ears pink.

katsuki straightens with a dull pop!, stretching his arms up and allowing you to shuffle closer, so that your head is resting on his chest. you press your ear to it and wait, eyes closed, until the heavy promise of his heartbeat echoes like a drum in your ear. it's loud, and after a moment, your own falls into sync, right where it belongs.

"'s'wrong?"

"hm?" you glance up at him, the frown on his pink face, before breathing in the clean scent of his laundry soap. your laundry soap. and then you shake your head. "nothin'. just missed you."

"been home all day."

"i know," you sigh, letting your eyes fall shut again. the sound of his phone locking clicks and you can feel the slight down-slide of his sweatpants when he pockets it. "sometimes i miss you even though you're right here."

you expect — something; another grunt or laugh through his nose, a raspy little noise that voices his confusion. things like this can be hard for him; you know how he is, knew before anything ever developed between the two of you — but you don't think it makes him any less deserving.

katsuki steps back from you a little, and you feel the hesitant rise of his arm before you feel it. his hand comes up to your face — pink and scarred in your peripheral vision — and he tilts your head up, waits until you open your eyes.

when you do, it looks as if a million things are running through his head. his poker-face is good, it has to be, but you can see little bits of his vulnerability shining through. you wonder how long it's been since he showed it to anybody. he almost looks sad.

katsuki squeezes your cheeks until your lips pucker, and his frown deepens when you laugh. "y're so...damn weird."

that's along the lines of what you were anticipating: one of his teasing little insults, warm with a fire he's still learning how to kindle. you don't get the chance to say anything before he's kissing you, eyes shut tight, lashes brushing against your own.

you expect something soft, because affection is a fickle thing, from him — but his hand never falls from your face and his tongue is sliding with yours suddenly, a heated gesture that throws your heart out of whack. you let him kiss you as deeply as he can, until your back arches painfully backward over the counter as he leans into you.

when he pulls away, his lips are a little swollen and his cheeks are burning, as he presses one into yours. "i—jus'—" katsuki tries and then abandons it, a hand curling into the material of your shirt. "i get it." he murmurs, there, into the heated skin of your face, heart beating in time with yours.

things like this are hard with him — but he makes them so, so worth it.

#i like to think he's a lil too rough #wants to hold your face in his hands and ends up squishing you #kisses you with the potential to bruise #bc he's so unpracticed !! #cute !! what a nerd !! #and i think he can be a lil reserved with affection :( and so he knows :( what it means to miss you even though you're right there :( #all the things he wishes he could say and can't :( #hi. #i am actually feeling a bit helpless in the big writing world LOL #i'm happy with what i'm writing ! and will keep writing it ! #but in the back of my mind #i just keep thinking that i want to write something really really good for bakugou #something that matters :( #idk ! i'm just feeling a bit dramatic and off today !! #so have this soft gooey piece as an offering #✿ willow writes #✿ thoughts: bakugou #✿ theme: domestic bakugou

[luxaofhesperides]

I'm not sure if you're still taking Ghostlights requests, but if you are: Dick asking Duke to take Haley to the dog park for him in order to set up a meet-cute for him with the guy with the weird green rottweiler

And if you aren't, just know that you're doing great and I appreciate the hell out of you

“Oh, shoot!” 

Hearing Dick rush around as a frantic mess is not uncommon while he’s in Gotham. There’s too many people wanting to spend time with him that he ends up pulled in a bunch of different directions. Dick’s always in a rush, always busy, always making time for people because he has more love than Duke has ever seen in a person.

Dick’s also got pretty good time management skills after years of doing this. He’s only cutting out a few minutes early for their designated three hour catch-up session. 

That doesn’t mean he’s going to do it gracefully, though.

“Almost lost track of the time!” he says, moving to the couch to pick up his jacket. “Hey, Duke, can do you me a favor while I’m out?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Can you take Haley to the dog park? I usually take her twice a week around this time, but I totally forgot to include that in my calendar this week so I’ve got plans with the Titans just outside the city, and no time to take her out.”

“Yeah, man, of course I can take her to the dog park. The one attached to Robinson Park, right?”

Dick nods, shoving his shoes onto his feet. “That’s the one! Her treats are also in the bag hanging next to her leash. Oh, and she has a friend at the dog park! Don’t be scared when you see him, he’s just green.”

“Oh…kay?”

“Great, thanks! Bye, Duke, I’ll see you later!”

And with that, Dick is gone, closing the door to his safehouse as he dashes into the hall. 

Duke is left alone in Dick’s Gotham safehouse, blinking dazedly at the empty space where he once was. He’s certainly a whirlwind of activity when he realizes he’s going to be late. He’s also skilled in just saying things and leaving before any questions can be answered.

Haly jumps up onto the couch next to Duke. They share a look, then Duke shakes his head. “You have to deal with that every day, huh?”

Haly, the good girl that she is, doesn’t say anything bad against her owner and just puts a paw on Duke’s thigh, her tail wagging. 

“I hear ya, girl. Let’s go to the dog park to meet your green friend,  I guess.”

He has no idea what that means, honestly. Is Dick just talking about a dog that got its fur dyed green? Or is Haly’s friend like… a mutant dog? 

Well, he’s not going to find out by stalling. 

Duke pets Haly, then stands up and walks to the door. Her head perks up as soon as she hears the jangle of her leash being moved, and then she’s running to the door, looking up at him expectantly. Smiling, Duke slips the harness onto her, then attached it to the leash. He gives her another quick pet before shoving on his shoes and grabbing her bag of treats and waste disposal bags. 

He double checks that he has his phone, then takes hold of Dick’s spare safehouse key and steps out into the hallway with Haly. She waits patiently as he locks the door, checks that the lock holds, then runs down the hallway, ripping the leash right out of his hands.

“Haly! Wait! Stop, girl!”

She happily ignores him and goes straight for the elevator, leaving him to run after her and quickly scoop up the leash as soon as he’s close enough.

“Of course you’re a little escape artists,” he says to her, “Just like your owner.”

Haly woofs softly, then stands up and scratches at the doors of the elevator. Shaking his head, amused, Duke pushes the button to call the elevator and wonders if Dick has to deal with this every time they go to the dog park. 

On one hand, it wouldn’t surprise him since Dick is absolutely the kind of guy to give in to his dog’s every whims and spoil her rotten. On the other hand, Duke fully believes that Haly is smart enough and cute enough to misbehave only when Dick isn’t around so he never believes people when they try to tell him about all the mischief she’s caused. 

Dogs and their owners really do reflect one another. The internet was right about that.

Duke makes sure to keep a tight grip on Haly’s leash once they leave the apartment building. The streets are busy, as they tend to be on weekends, and the sight of Haly straining against her leash, ready to run, brings a smile to more than one face. 

He plots the route to the dog park in his mind, then starts up a light jog, tugging lightly on the leash to prompt Haly to follow him. 

It’s nice to run just for the sake of it. Haly makes a good running partner as well. 

How long has it been since Duke had time to relax and not be prepared for the worst? All the running he usually does these days is to catch up with criminals or run for his life. Being out during the day, moving through the city, without any lives in danger? Genuinely nice and relaxing. 

Maybe he can offer to take Haly to the dog park from now on. Join Dick whenever he goes. Create a set few hours where he doesn’t do anything but enjoy being outside in one of the few places where the smog of pollution and chemical toxins isn’t so thick in the air. 

He’ll just have to make sure Dick doesn’t agree to something else during those days. It’s still strange to think that Dick could forget to do something involving Haly when he’s such a good dog owner and a pro at juggling various responsibilities and a busy schedule. 

Well, they all have off days. This must be one of Dick’s.

The sidewalks get wider once they reach the street that leads to the park. Families fill up the space, walking with strollers in front of them or lined up at a food cart. The vivid green of spring fills the grassy fields that lead to the large patches of trees, marking the edge of Poison Ivy’s territory. Clovers decorate the ground, bees moving from flower to flower. 

There are other dogs on walks as well, making circuits around the park or running after toys. Duke spots a cat in a walking harness as well and wonders if he can convince Damian to get one for Alfred the cat. 

The dog park is on the other end of the park, as far away from Ivy’s territory as possible. The fenced off areas are separated into big dogs and small dogs, with a helpful guide as to which dogs go where posted at the entrance. 

Duke slows to a walk, breathing deeply to help settle his heart rate back down to something normal. Haly walks by his side, tail wagging, as she watches the other dogs run back and forth behind the fence. 

She’s still small, just growing out of puppy size, so Duke leads her into the small dog area, carefully making sure the gate doesn’t open enough for any quick dogs to make a break for it. He walks over to a bench and sits down before undoing the harness on her, setting her loose. 

Haly licks his hand once, then darts away, barking lightly as she joins the other dogs tumbling around each other. 

Amused, Duke leans back at watches as the other dogs sniff her, then do their funny little bowing stomps, moving back and forth before running off so she can give chase. 

He figures staying for an hour will be good enough. That should get the most of her energy out, and then they can make the long trek back to Dick’s safehouse so he can pick her up before he heads back to Bludhaven. Pulling out his phone, Duke settles in to wait, keeping half his attention on Haly just in case any of the other dogs decide to get a little too rough.

The first twenty minutes pass peacefully. Haly runs around and the owners of the other dogs give her pets when she runs up to them. One even went over to Duke to offer him a pack of fruit gummies. 

Then a loud bark fills the air and Duke jerks upright, watching with wide eyes as a colossally large dog, green and glowing and slightly transparent, comes barrelling down the street, headed right towards them. 

He doesn’t have time to yell Haly’s name before the dog is in the fence. None of the other dog owners look alarmed, though, so he watches carefully, prepared to jump up and save Haly at a moment’s notice.

“Cujo!” someone yells from down the street. A guy with dark hair comes running up and smoothly jumps over the fence. “Cujo, how many times do I have to tell you not to run off like that?”

The green dog, apparently Cujo, barks happily.

“And you’re too big for this park right now, buddy. Shrink, boy. It’s time to be small.”

And then Cujo… obeys? The dog shrinks, and instead of being the size of a bus, it’s now small enough to be carried in someone’s arms. 

Green dog is not enough warning for all of that. Dick owes him so much for this.

Actually, he’s kind of shocked that Dick never mentioned this to anyone. Surely a giant green dog would get people’s attention. Why is this the first time he’s heard about it?

“You new around here?” someone asks, and Duke turns to see the person who gave him the fruit gummies.

“Kinda? It’s my first time coming to the dog park. I’m looking after Haly, that one right over there.” He points out Haly, who is running in circles around Cujo.

“Ah, I see. Dick mentioned someone new would be coming today.”

Duke narrows his eyes. He’s starting to get the feeling that he’s been set up for something, but he’s not sure what. 

“I’ll give you the spiel we tell all newcomers, in that case,” they continue. “Cujo is a ghost dog. Poor thing died during some animal testing, far as we know. Danny looks after him, since Cujo got attached to the kid years ago before he moved to Gotham. He’s a kind one, but very nervous, and we’ve all got an agreement to keep quiet about him and Cujo round this parts. You better be holding your tongue, as well, ya hear me?”

“Sure thing,” Duke nods. “My lips are sealed.”

He’ll just ask Dick about the ghost dog situation and do his own investigation if needed. But Cujo is just a dog, and his owner is just a guy. Nothing threatening, nothing requiring a Bat’s attention.

“Good,” they nod. “I’ll get out of your hair now.” They’re gone before Duke can reply, adjusting the hat on their head as they head back to their group in the back left corner of the dog park. 

Satisfied that things are under control, Duke relaxes back into the bench, watching Haly and Cujo tumble around with the other dogs, barking happily. Haly’s still growing into her paws, so she trips and falls often, but gets up without a moments pause, ready to keep playing.

From the corner of his eyes, Duke catches sight of someone walking towards him. 

He looks over and finds Cujo’s owner—Danny, wasn’t it?—approaching. Their eyes meet, and Danny offers him a sheepish smile and a wave. His eyes are a dark blue that seem to glow with some otherworldly light, and Duke can swear he sees something shifting around him, as if the air has turned visible and twists around his body like wisps of smoke. 

“Mind if I sit with you?” Danny asks, and Duke moves to the side a bit.

“Go ahead,” he says.

“You’re Duke, right? Dick told me about you last week.”

It’s looking more and more like Dick is up to something, and Duke will need to get his revenge. “Did he? All good things, I hope.”

“Aha, yeah, all good things. Um, actually I think I should apologize? I maybe said you sounded like my type so Dick promised that he’d get you here somehow. Sorry if this is messing up your plans for the day.”

Oh. Oh! 

Well. That’s interesting. 

Duke quietly shelves his plans for revenge against Dick and takes a proper look at Danny. He’s shy, but with a bright smile, glowing eyes and strange smoke curling around him still, and messy black hair windswept from chasing after Cujo. There’s a flush in his cheeks and his long fingers fiddle with the string of his dark red hoodie. 

“Don’t worry, I didn’t have any plans today. This is way better than just sleeping all day.”

“Well, I don’t know about that,” Danny laughs, “There’s nothing I like more than being able to sleep all day. That would fix me for sure.”

There’s a loud bark, and Danny’s eyes snap back to Cujo, who is growing bigger. “Cujo!” Danny yells, voice sharp. “Shrink down, or we go home.”

Cujo grumbles, whines, then goes back to being little. The green dog only has a moment to look sad before Haly is tackling him, sending them back into another chase around the park. 

“Sorry about that,” Danny says, slouching against the bench. 

“It’s all good,” Duke replies. “So. I’m your type, huh?”

Danny’s cheeks turn a deep, charming red. He looks away, then nods and ducks his head down. 

“And that hasn’t changed after meeting me?”

Danny shakes his head, then peeks over at Duke, gaze slowly moving up his body until he meets Duke’s eyes. “Definitely hasn’t changed,” he says.

Now it’s Duke’s turn to feel his cheeks burn, flustered and pleasantly surprised by Danny’s boldness. It doesn’t help that Danny is cute, someone he can see himself falling for. 

“Good,” he says, then knocks his knee against Danny’s. “I wouldn’t mind getting to know you more. On one condition.”

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“Tell me what Dick told you about me. I wanna make sure he wasn’t sharing an embarrassing stories about me. If I’m gonna make a fool of myself, then I’ll do it myself with no outside help.”

Danny’s laugh is bright and warm and sends butterflies dancing in Duke’s stomach. “Fair enough!” he says. “And you know what? I’ll trade you for embarrassing stories. Trust me, I have so many. Nothing you’ve done can be worse that the dumb shit I do on a regular basis.”

“Woah, woah, woah, confident, aren’t we? Don’t say that until you’ve heard about some of the stupid situation I choose to throw myself into.”

“Please, I’m an younger brother. If anyone knows how to be stupid, it’s me.”

“I’m part of the disaster that is the Wayne family. I think that has you beat.”

“My parents are mad scientists and my dog is a ghost. Try again.” The teasing smile on Danny’s lips makes him want to be reckless, to keep pushing, to go down this path as far as he can.  Duke can’t remember the last time he clicked with someone so instantly, to be so comfortable with them so soon. 

Damn. He’s gonna have to thank Dick for this, isn’t he?

As if on cue, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Duke pulls it out with an apologetic smile to Danny, who leans back a bit to give him some privacy.

The text that pops up is from Dick. It’s a photo of him and Danny from the side, heads bent close together as they talk with bright smiles. He can just make out the wild red curls of Kori’s hair. 

“I’m gonna put jello in his socks,” Duke says cheerfully, already looking around to find where Dick is hiding. 

He probably already moved locations, the ass. 

“What’s up?” 

He holds out his phone so Danny can see the screen. Danny stares at it, then looks around, then stares at the screen again. 

“...Is he watching us?”

“Yep.”

“...Should we do something about it?”

Duke shrugs. “I mean, I’m up for hunting him down and tackling him if you are.”

“I can do you one better,” Danny says with a sharp grin. He whistles, and Cujo comes running over, Haly at his heels, and he skids to a stop to sit before Danny. “Cujo. You remember Dick?” Cujo barks, as if answering. “Fetch! Go fetch Dick!”

Cujo jumps to his feet, grows from the size of a pug to a bear, and takes off for the art instillation farther into Robinson Park. Moments later, they hear a yell followed by loud laughter, and Cujo and running back, Dick hanging from his mouth, with Kori, Donna, and Roy following after him at a leisurely stroll. 

“I think we’re gonna get along great,” Duke says. “He’s gonna wish he never set us up.”

“That’s the way to do it,” Danny agrees.

“Say, wanna grab lunch together tomorrow?”

Danny blinks, then blushes again. “What, like a date?”

“Yeah, as a date. You up for it?”

“How could I say no? I was promised embarrassing stories.”

He watches as Cujo drops a rumpled looking Dick to the ground, half his shirt soaked with saliva. He dramatically mimes being shot in the heart when he sees them both looking at him, and goes limp when Kori picks him up and tries to set him on his feet. 

Then he tries to act very calm and cool as Danny leans against him. “Think he’s gonna follow up on our date?” Danny asks in a low voice.

Duke closes his eyes and tries not to despair. He didn’t even think of that. “Worse. He’s going to tell everyone else, then we’ll have every available Wayne kid stalking us on our date.”

“Guess I’ll have to rely on you to chase them off, huh?”

“Or we can sic Cujo on them again.”

“Or that,” Danny nods. “It’s always effective.”

He’s really going to have to bring his best to the date tomorrow, just to stay a step ahead of everyone else. Maybe he’ll ask Barbara for a favor and get her to lead them off? And if Bruce gets involved, then Duke is fully prepared to flashbang him, grab Danny, and run. 

It’s going to be a disaster.

It’s going to be fun.

He’s already looking forward to it, and from the mischievous smile on Danny’s face, he’s not the only one.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompt fill #my writing #dick is so great i love him sooo much. most amazing loser guy ever <3 #him befriending danny at the park bc hes investigating the guy with the green superpowered dog thats making everyone nervous #only to find that danny's a sweet kid whos stressed out and doing his best and cujo is a ghost dog who died years ago and only wants to pla #really tugs at his heartstrings and dick from then on is one of dannys closest friends #the other dog park regulars slowly get used to danny and start talking to him too after dick does and also grow super protective #dannys got a whole squad ready to protect him if duke doesnt treat him right lol #waynes vs dog park regulars: FIGHT #jk they just give very mild shovel talks that are mostly 'treat him right hes had a rough life and deserves love and happiness. or else' #thanks for the prompt!!

[pepperpixel]

“put me on a pedestal and i’ll only disappoint you

tell me i’m exceptional, and i promise to exploit you

gimme all your money, and i’ll make some origami honey!

i think you’re a joke!!! …but i don’t find you very

fuuuuuuu~nyyy”

More tagr art!!! Assorted stuff this time! Featuring some cute chibi stuff. Some solo gaz’s, a lil uhhh. Comic of an altercation.. and a very belated Halloween pic I started drawing last Halloween and didnt finish lol. Also featuring lyrics from pedestrian at best cuz that song rllly rlly fits my ver of tak lol.

#invader zim #gaz membrane #invader tak #tagr #iz tak #iz gaz #tak #doodles #there toxic yuri!!! they’re all over the place!!! tak is tsundere insane alien who fueled by revenge it’s gonna be rough! #I think. there relationship would slowly grow and develop as gaz is helping tak w all her injuries #but I think they’d end up having a true true falling out sometime after take fully healed and gets her ship back. #and they’d be split up for a few years maybe? idk how long I’d want it to be. but! yeah. #absence makes the heart grow fonder and makes u realize how fucking stupid u are #and eventually they’d reunite and shit would be better lol #I don’t want them to be at each others throats forever that’d suck lol #theyre just definitely are moments where there at each others throats in the beginning #but they r also moments.. where they both feel true belonging and acceptance. like they never have before… and it blows there lil minds… #I also dO want gaz to go into space at some point w tak cuz that’d be fucking awesome #after they reunite again they can go explore the universe a bit #these r all very half baked ideas btw and also my brains mush cuz ive been drawing all day #so please excuse if said ideas suck. also please excuse all the typos lol #I might change my mind on the them separating idk… or maybe make it a shorter amount of time… idk!! I havent thought thru all this shit lol #it’s not like I’m gonna write a story or actually make a comic I’m just drawing random fanart #I don’t need to have all these thoughts all solidified lol

[falloutcoys]

made a zine on writing and creative slumps

#zine #mini zine #on writing #analogue art #zines #writing #my posts #my art #id in alt text #first zine in a very very long time #ig if anyone wants a printable lmk and i can scan it lol #i am not a visual artist so the illustrations are rough #and you can tell my tremor was bad on the last page #but i am pretty happy with it! #might get a colored pencil to make the moon blue but couldnt find one

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Ok Wild Angsters, you wanted a continuation, so here you go :)

Four already knew what he would be walking into. His phone had been blowing up for hours. He’d come in to work early. Whether he was assigned to take care of Wild or not was another matter - Vaati loved to try and take all the admissions, convinced he was the best nurse on the unit. If Four could just keep Vaati out of Wild’s room, he’d consider it a success.

When the charge nurse told him he would be admitting the trauma alert, he knew who he was getting.

Pre-admission jitters always made Four anxious, but this was an entirely other level of fear. He almost wanted to request a different assignment, but it was too late now. What if he couldn’t take caer of him because he was his friend? What if that impair his decision making? What if he just wasn’t skilled enough to handle it? He knew Ezlo wouldn’t give him an assignment he couldn’t handle, wouldn’t be there to support him, but still…

Four went over the supplies in his room once more. Safety checks were fine—they had suction, they had a bag valve mask, the code card was nearby—and he had all the supplies he needed. It was just a waiting game.

Four paced the unit at least three times before he looked at the OR status board again. Wild was still in surgery. He poked in his chart, glancing at injuries, looking at vital signs and anesthesia notes. The last update he saw was that Wild had gotten another unit of blood. Estimated blood loss so far was around 2200mL.

2200mL. That… wasn’t too terrible, Four supposed. He’d… seen worse.

Please don’t get worse.

Four knew for certain that Wild had been mass transfused in the ED. Warriors, his primary nurse when he was there, had told him as much. Between that and the multiple blood products he’d gotten in surgery, as well all the crystalloids he was likely getting as well…

Four took a breath. Then another. He grabbed his phone, texting Warriors. You doing ok?

Wars didn’t reply.

Four wasn’t entirely sure where everyone was at this point. Hyrule had stayed at the hospital, lingering in the emergency department and then the operating room waiting area, but Four hadn’t seen him since he’d clocked in. Warriors and Legend should be getting off shift now, but whether they were going to stay up was another matter. Time was obviously in the OR (Wild’s wreck had been around 10pm, he’d arrived in the ED around 10:45, and he’d been stabilized for surgery and gone to the OR by around midnight - it was 7am now… he wasn’t sure how long this was going to take, but it couldn’t be much longer). Malon should be getting on shift now as well - she had come in last night when everything had gone down, alongside Twilight. Wind had been cautiously left out of the loop until Wild had gone to surgery, simply because nobody had really had much information at the time, so no one wanted to worry the kid until they could figure things out. Everyone had their hands full as it was. But by now, Four knew Wind was either in the OR waiting room, harassing every respiratory therapist he knew, or in the hospital library pacing anxiously. As for Sky, the last Four heard he was bouncing between different people, checking in on everyone.

He clicked through more anesthesia notes, looked at flow sheets for blood products. There wasn’t much to go on, as charting was sparse. What Four did know was that Wild had been obtunded, got mass transfused, had gotten a chest tube, had been intubated, blood was evident in his abdomen, and he had an open femur fracture. He’s been taken to Time’s OR for a ex-lap. Head CT had shown a bleed, and they were monitoring it. That was all the information Legend had told the group when he’d had a moment to spare.

Four’s vocera activated, telling him he had a call from the charge nurse. When he answered, he was told Malon had called and said they’d be finishing up in about thirty minutes and were likely to come up open.

Why was he coming up with his abdomen open? When had they gone from exploratory laparotomy to a full on open abdomen?

Ten minutes later, Malon called back to give report. When Four answered, the first thing he asked was, “How’s he doing? Is he okay? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Malon said, even though she sounded exhausted. “And he’s… hanging in there. I’ve seen worse, I’ll say that. I’ll give you the full rundown, okay?”

Four listened as Malon gave report, feeling his heart settled into his stomach, which was tying itself in knots. Multiple spots of bleeding, possible compartment syndrome in his abdomen, a likely kidney injury due to compression from the bleeding on some major vessels, a small hematoma in his brain… they’d had to call neurosurgery to do an emergency craniotomy out of overt concern of swelling, given that Wild had apparently had previous head trauma, based on what they saw in the OR.

Open abdomen, craniotomy, ICP monitoring, bleeding, one chest tube… this was a disaster. Four swallowed as he wrote, feeling his hand shake a little as his heart raced. He was not qualified enough to be admitting this. He was not.

But the turnaround on his unit was pretty insane, and he was the most experienced nurse on the unit today. At least Ezlo was charge; he knew he’d be well supported.

This was a nightmare. But Four had dealt with nightmares, and he would deal with this. He wasn’t going to screw up taking care of any patient, but especially his friend.

Sighing, he hung up the phone after thanking Malon, pushing worries for her and Time aside, trying to focus on what he would need, who he should grab to help him, and how he should prep his room.

It was time to get to work.

When everyone arrived from the OR, Four made brief eye contact with Time. He couldn’t read much from the man, who was stone faced, aside from the exhaustion evident in the dark circles under his eyes. Four got to work quickly, assessing Wild from head to toe as he looked to see what IV medications he was on. A coworker wrote the note while Ezlo helped detangle his lines (the OR always brought up a mess, after all). Time gave an overview of the surgery, and Four listened along as he checked pupils, as he zeroed the arterial line and the ICP monitor, as he listened to lung and heart sounds, as he checked the chest tube and stripped it with his fingers to ensure patency, as he checked peripheral pulses, as he looked at the abdominal dressing to get a baseline in case there was swelling from bleeding later. One of the techs connected the chest tube to wall suction, and Four looked over his drips. Only having levophed at 2 wasn’t terrible, and he was getting a unit of red blood cells, which was in a transfusion set that was y’d to some lactated ringers fluid. He was on propofol for sedation. Another nurse grabbed a blood gas from his arterial line and sent off labs. His foley he had was temp sensing, and Four quickly ascertained that Wild was cold, so he set up the blanket warmer and covered his friend up.

His friend. His friend.

Four shook his head. He had to focus.

As Time left the room, he put a hand on Four’s shoulder, making him freeze. The surgeon didn’t speak, just locking eyes with him. Four wasn’t entirely sure if it was for his own benefit or not. But he had no more time to let his emotions make any decisions for him. He nodded to the doctor, who nodded in return, and then the two went their separate ways.

This was going to be a long day.

#Apologies if this sounds too similar to Level One because I haven’t read that fic in over a year and never finished it #So I don’t remember what happened to Wild in it aside from he was also in an MVC and was in rough shape LOL #Writing #lu in healthcare #lu wild #lu four #lu time #lu malon #dang how long is this storyline gonna be lol #I get too caught up in the medical side of it HA #He’ll be fiiiiine #I got all excited talking about admission from the OR stuff lol #It’s so chaotic y’all #There are like eight thousand people in the room and the lines are a hot mess and I HATE when teh lines are a hot mess #But this was also weird because I admit heart patients… and Wild—being a trauma patient—has… so few drips?? Compared to heart patients??? #Like… trauma patients aren’t usually on pressors because what they need is blood #Whereas cardiac surgery patients might need blood… or they’re just vasoplegic… or their heart sucks… #Lots of different options lol #Anyway I’m rambling in the tags whoops #Skye time travels through the queue

[missjoolee]

Chapel of Love

1.1k words

The barest hint of hot, dry air ruffled against the baby hairs on the back of her neck doing little relief. Long gone were the multi-layered stage outfits, having learned she needed something more breathable underneath the stagnant tent two days ago at the start of the music festival. Instead, she wore a poofy crop top with shorts, and she could feel Luke’s eyes roaming the revealed skin of her shoulders, midriff, and legs with each song they sang together. He'd been winding her up with each set.

Her hands grip the top of the mic stand as she leans into where the mic sits, holding herself in place where normally she would be dragging it over to share with Luke in this moment. But they are halfway through the seventh and final set and his eyes weren’t the only thing she could feel looming nearby. Just outside the Loud & Local tent sat the “Chapel of Love”. And the next lyrics were too close to vows that she might do something stupid if she got too close to him. Why had they written them this way, again?

They hadn’t seen the simple archway that signified the “chapel” when they had arrived to set up, the van being parked on the other side of the tent that held the stage that they would share with four other bands over the three day festival. And when they finally had a chance to roam the festival grounds, Reggie pulling them to the food truck selling fancy milkshakes, they saw it but didn’t know what it was. Even on the information board sporting a map, it was just a tiny innocuous dot.

It had been later on a water run that Alex and she saw a small gathering of people under it, two of them sealing their love with a kiss. Apparently, you could get married at this festival.

"Huh," Alex had said, taking a drink from his bottle and then resting his arm on her shoulder. "That's a decision." "I don't know. I think it's kind of sweet," she'd responded. A snort rang out from above her head. "Of course you would say that." She'd sent an accusatory glare up at him, dropping her shoulder so his arm would fall way. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She had known exactly what he meant though. Her eyes close against the crowd in front of her and drift open to her left, knowing exactly where Luke would be.

She can feel electricity thrum through her body as she begins the call and response moment.

"I've got a spark in me."

She can see the confusion on his face, but he smiles at her as the words slide out of him with ease.

"I've got a spark in me."

She closes her eyes against the assault of love intertwining with the electricity already coursing though her. In her mind, the simple archway looms above them. This is why she was fighting her entire being from going to him. It was too soon. Too impulsive.

"And you're a part of me."

She can't escape the feelings that have been building with each performance they've done this weekend. The euphoria of performing their music with the her best friends, and the man she loves, not caring that she shut her eyes in an attempt to block it out.

"And you're a part of me."

Luke's voice right next to her sends a shiver across her shoulders, her eyes jumping open to see he'd closed the distance to share a mic with her. Not letting her run from him, not realizing she wasn't running. She was trying to reign in some very impulsive thoughts. She can see the concern in his eyes behind the determination and can't help the smile that graces her face, softer than what is normally part of her stage persona.

"Now till eternity."

His response is accompanied by the smile he normally saves for her when they are in the studio. One that Alex and Reggie unfortunately have to put up with because it side tracks things often enough. "Now till eternity."

The mental reigns she's been wrestling are completely forgotten about. She's a goner. Their voices twine together like they have thousands of times before.

"Been so long and now I'm finally free."

The rest of the set goes off without a hitch. The adrenaline and dopamine high intoxicating. She feels Reggie's arm go around her shoulders as Luke's goes around her waist and she looks at all her band-mates with pride. This weekend was amazing and did a lot to promote them, even if they were competing for attention with signed bands that have been around a whole lot longer on two other stages. They take a group bow to the crowd before they disperse like the non-existent wind.

Luke's arm tightens and he leans down to her ear to be heard. "Everything okay?" His voice is raspy and a bit lower than normal from doing seven performances in three days.

Perfect. The word rings in her head, bolstering her onto her toes next to his ear so he can hear her response.

"Marry me." Her own voice rough, lower and more sultry than she expected.

He looks surprised as he processes her words, but not like they made him uncomfortable if that same smile he saves for her lighting up his face means anything.

"Yeah. Okay."

She grabs hold of the hand on her waist, interlacing their fingers as she heads for the exit of the tent with determination. He drags behind her a bit.

"You mean right now??"

The first flicker of doubt hits her. "Yes?"

He drops her hand and scrambles to get the guitar strap over his head. "Oh hell yeah."

Her smile is so big she can feel the ache in her cheeks but she doesn't care. He wants this as bad as she does.

A voice interrupts them. "Uh Julie? Luke? Where are you going? We have to pack up our stuff so Midnight Mayhem can go on."

Reggie looks confused, his thumb pointing over his shoulder off the back of the stage. Alex's looks suspicious. Julie can feel heat soar to her cheeks as she looks up at Luke's face and sees the eager giddiness there and then back at Alex. Yeah, that tracks.

"Sorry guys. Got a little distracted. Band meeting after we get everything packed up."

She pulls Luke back over to their gear to begin packing up. Squeezing his hand before dropping it to unplug her keyboard.

He looks at her with confusion. "Band meeting?"

"We'll need witnesses."

"Riiiiiight. Nice."

#this was supposed to be for juke jeudi last week #but i don't feel like waiting for jeudi this week #also this is not the fic idea i referenced in my corn maze post #lol #I haven't written anything since Something Burning #so like forever ago #sorry if this is rough #also not edited at all #and if the ending seems abrupt #it's because if i tried to write anymore i'd be commiting myself to a much longer fic #that i didn't have fully fleshed out ideas for #which meant this wouldn't see the light of day #so sorry they don't even kiss #-_- i have failed you #juke #jukebox #jatp #julie and the phantoms #juke fic #julie molina #luke patterson #julie x luke #joolee attempts writing #tagging imene for posterity #thedeathdeelers #it's been so long i can't even remember what tags i usually use lololol

[non-un-topo]

More clothing studies, this time from my fic Axis. I was aiming for authenticity while also trying to have each of their personalities show a little bit in their clothing choices. Two for Nicky, to show his layers.

#tog #the old guard #for reference the fic takes place in 1625 in iceland. i still don't think they're bundled enough though lol. #nicolo di genova #yusuf al kaysani #andromache of scythia #no quynh :( #these were a n i g t m a r e to crop correctly. tumblr why are you like this. #hence the cropping might look a little weird #siggy draws #i think these sketches took a month and a half lol. now i will be quiet about this fic and focus on writing something else. #what do we think about this style? the differently coloured lineart and the slight lighting? and the rough colours? #also i forgot my siggynature on ALL of these but that's ok. you know who i am sdfghf #my new obsession is clothing details i guess!! could always make it more detailed though! with lots of practice i can try. #no real director's commentary on these drawings like i usually write for my sketches asdsfgfd #just that this is mostly what they wear in the fic. add a coat for andy maybe and some mitts for joe. #and more weapons and bags and stuff #can't really see nicky's braids but he's got one big french braid and a few tiny ones on the sides of his head connecting to it. #his hair is like shoulder-blade length. it's about the symbolism!! of not making a change for a long time!! until he does cut it!! #and andy is wearing quynh's necklace under her shirt of course </3 #joe rolls his pantaloons above the knee for maximum movement (horseriding) and fashion (gay) #i have a crush on the first nicky sketch like he's so cunty for no reason #well. he's possibly supposed to be having a serious conversation/argument with andy #kudos to the ref picture i used of luca just standing Like That