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#touches ask game
vox-fantasma · 1 year
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20. bandaging/stitching up an injury (read on ao3)
“This is so stupid,” Imogen grumbles, yanking at the sleeves of her vest. She could feel the beginnings of a migraine stirring, and the pounding in her brain - growing heavier by the second - did nothing for her anger. 
“Let me, dear,” Laudna says, stilling Imogen’s rough movements and gently peeling back the blood-stained material to expose the shallow wound on her arm. Its not deep, thankfully, but blood still beads quickly without anything to soak it up, trickling down the length of Imogen’s bicep as she continues to mutter irritably under her breath. 
“Fuckin’ shade creepers and their goddamn holes.” Imogen bites one end of their newly acquired bandages between her teeth and goes to haphazardly loop it around the wound, only for Laudna to swoop in and pluck the roll from her hands, clicking her tongue as she does. “Laudna.”
“Imogen,” Laudna mimics her tone, showing no sign of backing down. “Let me.”
“It’s just a scrape, Laud, no need to fuss - I should’ve seen that fucker coming, if I wasn’t being so stupid this wouldn’t’ve even happened-” The lines on her forearms flash white hot with emotion, prickling under her gloves like the sting of a hundred small fire-ants. She growls lowly at the pain. 
“Imogen.” Laudna catches one of her hands as it waves around in frustration, carefully entwining their fingers together to stop her from jostling the open wound. The pressure is comforting even through the thick leather of her gloves, and the purple glow emanating from her skin slowly subsides until the scars are visible again. “Let me. Please.”
Imogen already has a hard time denying Laudna anything, and when she asks like that - well. 
“Fine,” she grumbles again, the admittedly childish annoyance with herself warring with the spark of warmth Laudna’s gentle concern ignites in her chest. Laudna hums out an approving noise as she begins to clean the cut, snipping a piece of the bandage and wetting it in warm water before gently dabbing at the blood. Imogen hunches in on herself, a steely set to her shoulders as even as her body itches to relax into Laudna’s attentive care. 
The wound disappears under a carefully applied layer of white. Laudna’s quiet as she works, never pushing her to speak, but this close, Imogen can hear the quiet lilt to her thoughts, a question buried under the constant and comforting musical hum. She sighs.
“After everything we’ve faced- a shade creeper, of all things-” Imogen breaks off, biting her lip. “It’s just embarrasin’, s’all.”
Laudna tuts. 
“It’s perfectly normal to not notice things in the heat of battle, Imogen. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Imogen mumbles, but the spark of self-directed fury clings stubborn to the insides of her chest, an almost physical pressure that rivaled the sharp, clean pain of the now neatly bandaged wound. Imogen starts to sit back, but Laudna grips her arm tight, holding her still. Gently, slowly, achingly, she places a small kiss right where the gashes were, and just like that the last dregs of Imogen’s bad mood slip away, her lips curling into a helpless smile as she meets Laudna’s dark eyes, crinkled from her wide grin.
“There you are,” another kiss, this time pressed to her lips.
“Thanks, Laud.”
“Any time.”
Credit to this prompt list, drop me an ask if there’s any you want to see fulfilled! 
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heartxfkyber · 2 years
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Hello Nyx!! Can I please ask for ‘kissing each finger’ for the touch ask game with Jango and baby Boba please? (I love the new blog aesthetic btw!)
Hi anon, of course you can! (And thank you! 🥰🥰)
Prompt: kissing each finger
Characters: Boba Fett & Jango Fett
Rating: [none required]
Warnings: Boba and Jango being the cutest dad and son in the galaxy, lots of fluff
Jango Fett had never held a child before.
He’d seen plenty of others do so, seen parents cradling their little ones to their chests and smiling down proudly at them. They had a mirthful glitter in their eyes—something that could almost be described as love, but somehow, it was more powerful. Where love was the beating heart of a pulsing star, that new emotion was the galaxy that housed it. It was as strong as stormy seas and as deep as those oceans’ depths. It was as gentle as cotton and as tough as steel. It was…not love. Something more.
Jango never thought he’d feel it.
Yet now, as he looked down at the tiny bundle in his arms, screaming his lungs out, Jango felt it. Undeniably, he felt it. Like an ache in his heart, something as lethal as hellfire and as all-consuming as darkness…yet it was soft. It was soft and supple and gentle, curling through its duality with flawless transitions that left Jango breathless.
He never wanted to stop feeling it.
For the first few hours of having his son with him, Jango couldn’t stop gazing in wonder at the newborn. He gazed at that head of midnight curls and those huge dark eyes and that button nose and that tiny mouth that was capable of creating such a racket that even the storms behind these four walls of the apartment’s living room seemed to shrink back in comparison. He gazed at those small, delicate hands and that little pair of feet. Jango gazed at his son because his son was perfect.
He cradled the child to his chest, and he carried him everywhere around the apartment that day. He remembered all of the little hints and guides he’d seen in parenting books about how to hold your little one, how to support their head and tuck them into the crook of your arm and rock them idly whenever you stood still. Babies needed gentle movement to keep them calm, he remembered reading. They needed that sense that they were always within the grasp of safety.
So Jango carried his son around with him, and rocked him when he cried, and soothed him when he began fussing. He refused to put the child down for even a moment, because something within him almost expected for the baby to be taken away if he turned his back.
When Jango finally laid his son down in the crib by the bed that very first night, the baby was already asleep. Dark eyes closed, lashes kissing his cheeks, one hand held at his mouth idly while the other rested on the small mattress beneath him. He was perfect, and Jango never wanted to stop gazing at him. Gently, Jango took that tiny hand in his own, thumbing over the baby’s palm and looking at each little finger with such adoration that it nearly stole the breath from his lungs. And as Jango pressed small kisses to each tiny fingertip, he once again felt that emotion rear its head within him. Love, but something more…and he never wanted to stop feeling it.
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malinaa · 4 months
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if i think about the hunger games in peeta's perspective i WILL start sobbing
#imagine you're a boy who's going to die. you're in love with the girl you've been watching from afar. you know your fate.#you just want to help her‚ but then there's the announcement and she's here in front of you‚ kissing you‚ risking her life for you and you#think‚ i could live and i could love. you think she loves you when she hands you the berries‚ when she puts them in her mouth.#then you both survive and you go back home and nothing is real anymore. you have nothing. no family. no friends. no love. just an empty#house. a drunk for a neighbor. the love of your life walking into somebody else's arms. you think‚ i survived the games. i could survive#this. and you also think‚ i should've bit down on those berries‚ should've felt the juice burst before i died.#and then the third quarter quell announcement rings in your ears and you think‚ she will live and i will die as i should have in the first#place. the girl you love kisses you on the beach and somewhere you heart stirs and your mind revolts and you savor every touch she has ever#given to you‚ in front of the cameras and off. because you are a tribute and you are always being watched and snow's presence looms and#you think‚ i know she cares. but you get taken. you get drugged. you get tortured‚ your mind altered. the girl is a mutt‚ a murderer. she's#everything you despise‚ your mind stirs. your heart revolts. you gain more awareness but cannot distinguish reality from fiction and you#have never known katniss' love. the war ends. you heal. you come home. you plant primrose for her. years down the line‚ you grow in love#more than you thought possible. but some days‚ you cannot tell fiction from reality so you ask the love of your life‚ you love me.#real or not real? and she says‚ real‚ and kisses you.#and you sigh and kiss her back and revel in this. a home. a life. a love.#lit#the hunger games#everlark#otp: real or not real?#katniss everdeen#peeta mellark#text#tais toi lys#thgpost
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shepscapades · 9 months
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Ranchers as Grant Wood’s American Gothic was supposed to be sillay and goofy but then I set the ranch on fire and one thing led to another and now it’s. sad DFBJDFGB I’m really happy with how this came out though, so!! Here’s my week 3 piece for the Hermitcraft Design Challenge thingie :]
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hesbianyaoi · 3 months
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its 10pm here which is still christmas time so i can still post this. happy holidays from the detective agency
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(parody of that one My Hero Academia Christmas omake)
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simply-ask-games · 2 years
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the long awaited iconic tumblr post ask game!! thank you for all who suggested a post :)
(if enough people want one perhaps I'll make a part 2? who knows?)
and, naturally, reblog to join + click for quality
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seraphinitegames · 2 months
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Hey Sera! Quick question about M. On the romance route, M is very okay with the MC touching them casually. What about on the best friend route? Are casual touches very painful when the MC is just the best friend instead of the love interest?
It happens less, but you can see small moments of it happen where the MC might touch M through a choice set and M doesn't pull away.
When M is more relaxed around a person, then the touch isn't as bad, so it's a nice hint at where the MC and M are at in their friendship because M is really only relaxed around UB.
Thank you so much for the ask! :)
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a-sketchy · 2 months
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persona misogyny is so fucking wild. ignoring literally everything else about the entire rest of the games, every single s.link with a female character is like “entirely for having been born a woman i have had to work twice as hard for a fraction of the benefit. even now, i am stripped of my agency in a position i never wanted in the first place” and/or “i’m put on a pedestal by the people in my life because of my looks. men see me as an object to be conquered, women hate me for ‘stealing’ ‘their’ men. if i’m withdrawn i’m a bitch, if i’m friendly i’m easy. because of this, i’m alone” and/or “because of my personality or hobby or lack of cooking skills, i feel like i’m failing at femininity. if being a woman is something i can fail at, then where does that leave me? i’m scared at the loss of my identity and place in society”
like very consistently they present female characters with complex thoughts towards their place in society as women, femininity as a whole, and facing issues stemming from misogyny, and then the payoff is always “my problems were entirely my own fault. i wasn’t strong enough, i was a coward. but now, i’m gonna work hard to be exactly what society expects me to be (which is what i want to be)! i’m gonna do better at femininity (which is still something tangible i can fail at)! i’m going to try hard at making friends (which was my fault for not doing)! all my problems are solved through personal responsibility (that im totally culpable for), effort (which i previously was not putting in), or you, a man! i am Happy and Satisfied with this outcome, can i be Your woman?”
and like hello? why are we here. what the fuck are we doing. why do we keep doing this every single time. can we not do the constant lukewarm attempts at criticizing misogyny so you can jerk off to your own thoughtfulness, while ultimately reinforcing patriarchal systems and brushing off any deeper misogyny-bred issues as a lack of deference to one’s rightful place in society? like maybe don’t do that? for fucking once? just an idea
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invisiblemonstrosity · 6 months
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game shows touch our lives - the mountain goats // unidentified man 3 - sarah charlesworth
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carlyraejepsans · 2 months
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Do you enjoy underfell? I thought you disliked aus /genq
i don't dislike the concept of AUs itself, I'm just not a fan of like... the subculture that spawned around them in the UT fandom specifically and how it eventually took over almost all canon content (especially when it limits itself to the bros)
i like aus visually! i am an artist at heart after all. it's just that, if I'm going to care about them as stories and not just fun design ideas, my bar is uhh almost impossibly high the further you move from canon lolol.
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gingermaple · 3 months
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If you're still doing the HC fanon swap, sheep Etho? I think it would be cute in your artstyle :D
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when given the option to have his horn reattached or rebuilt, he refused, saying it looked "pretty neat" the way it was.
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heartxfkyber · 2 years
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Hey Nyx! For the ask game, can I request “tickling the other one” with Din and Grogu? 💖💖
Hi Katie, thanks so much for asking—my wish is your command 🥰
Prompt: tickling the other one
Rating: [none required]
Characters: Din Djarin & Grogu
Warnings: just pure fluff and cuddles
Putting Grogu to bed, Din had come to learn, was no easy feat. The child had his routine: eat dinner (which consisted of whatever rations Din could scrounge up and organise in the infant’s little lunch-tin), get washed up (which included Din filling up an empty crate with warm water and carefully dabbing down the child with a sponge), and then be put to bed (or rather, the handcrafted hammock Din had lovingly hung above his bunk).
Grogu loved food. Grogu loved bathtime.
Grogu hated bed.
For a creature so often sleeping, Din had never met anyone who detested being put to bed as much as his foundling did. Grogu would whine. Grogu would protest. Grogu would use every weapon in his arsenal to avoid being set down on that little hammock, and if Din weren’t so fed-up of the infant’s chaos, he’d be damn proud that Grogu was so resourceful.
As of now, Grogu had finished being bathed. He’d been giggling, a sound akin to tinkling bells that were just the slightest touch out of tune; it was a sound that made Din’s lips pull into a soft smile beneath the sharp angles of his helmet. Grogu’s laugh was a sound that Din knew meant that everything…everything was all right. Grogu’s laugh meant that Din was home. And at that sound, as it always did, a petal-soft smile settled over his face. That smile blunted stony expressions and lit up dark eyes and it made the very Force itself tingle with pure gold. Grogu, Din knew, was always aware of when he smiled. Because every time Din smiled, Grogu always smiled right back.
After Din got the child dressed, he was still smiling. “C’mon, womp rat,” he said, picking up the little one fondly. “Time for bed.”
Promptly, Grogu stopped smiling.
“Ah?” he questioned, looking up at Din with huge, doe eyes.
The Mandalorian sighed. “Yes, kid. Bedtime.”
“Ah.”
“Yes.”
As Din walked over to the sleeping quarters on the Crest, Grogu began to fuss. He began to whimper, and babble, and thrash about in Din’s arms like the little green menace he was. “Grogu, I’m being serious,” Din told him firmly. He reached the bunk. But Grogu, once again being resourceful, aimed a jab of one three-fingered hand right at Din’s side.
And Din nearly dropped him.
In that moment, he saw the realisation in the child’s onyx-hued eyes: Din had a weakness. And before Din could even defend himself, Grogu thrust another hand at that same spot in his side, unprotected by the armour. Electricity and something akin to sparks jolted right through Din’s very being, and he couldn’t help his (not at all high-pitched, nope) yelp.
Yes…Din Djarin, bounty hunter and warrior—was ticklish.
Very ticklish.
Grogu squealed in delight, launching attack after attack on Din until the Mandalorian was gasping through breathless laughter and small shrieks of “Stop!” and “Kid, I swear—” Eventually, the two of them ended up falling backwards onto Din’s bunk, where Grogu resumed the onslaught of tickles and giggles. Din had tears streaming down his face now, and he was trembling with the force of his hysteric laughter. “Grogu!” he gasped. “Grogu, kid, quit it—” He trailed off into another incoherent shriek, and Grogu kept laughing raucously, clambering onto Din’s chest to better reach the Mandalorian’s exposed sides.
Looked like bedtime would be delayed for tonight.
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thefloatingstone · 3 months
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I'm trying to let my wrist rest after overworking it...
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I am *dying* to know about #12 rn. Care to let me see a snippet? Maybe expound on its virtues? 🥺
-Faer
Ahhh okay, so this one started as a silly "wouldn't it be hilarious if Jason's dad was actually John Winchester" thought exercise (because my sense of humor is shot) after I forced one of my friends to watch UTRH with me, and it just. spiraled, violently. It's still ass-deep in chaos page hell, but I've been describing it as, "Red Hood and Justice League Dark: Great Value Edition".
* Older Scooby Gang * Sibling/Family Reveal * Reverse Identity Reveal (the bulk of the team doesn't know Jason is Red Hood (or an active vigilante at all) until the situation calls for Red Hood-level interference) * Danny "I am in desperate need of a trusted supportive adult" Fenton * Good Friends Tucker and Sam * Clueless Dean and Sam
--
"So," Sam opened both hands and held them apart, gesturing first at the little-big asshole that had kicked everything off just by existing, "you were dead."
Jason shrugged his stupidly huge shoulders, "I got better." The following 'And?' went unspoken but clearly implied.
Oh, Bobby was going to lose his damn mind when he got a hold of this kid.
Sam paused, needing a moment to process the fact that they were too late, again, before he angled his disbelief at the skinny little punk standing with his hands in his pockets and flanked on either side by his friends like bodyguards.
"You were dead."
The teenager coughed into his fist, "Uh, about that."
Sam paused. "You…weren't dead?"
The kid made a face and wobbled his hand in the air, all 'so-so' like.
"What," Dean shifted, every Hunter-honed instinct firing off in the back of his brain, "What the hell does that mean. Did you die, or didn't you?"
"I'm," He stopped himself, brows furrowed as he looked up thoughtfully, "An overachiever?"
"Technically you're an underachiever since you can't commit to a bit," The Kid Body Guard in the Beret helpfully pointed out.
The "underachiever" in question looked like he might argue, but ultimately agreed with a loose shrug of his shoulders. "Rude, but okay."
"What the hell does that mean. Sam."
"I don't know, Dean."
"And both of you have died," A woman cut in, heels clicking on the tile, "I was dead for fifteen minutes while on a case in Star City last December. Legally, Velma is also dead. You boys aren't special."
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omaano · 6 months
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Nine Lines Nine People
I was tagged by the amazing @frostbitebakery (thank you ❤️)
So I’ve had A Day, and in my endless wisdom I decided that it made it the ideal time to fix Fox’s face after weeks of playing around with the idea of just scrapping the whole thing (and finally find a picture I liked to turn into Cody instead). I’m sure he has over 9 lines on his face. Also he is red the only thing that pulls me towards this guy which is always a plus.
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Tagging (if you feel like it): @traumschwinge @manofbeskar @annettecheshir @battlekilt @justhereforeskel @shortmage @nautilicious @sidhebeingbrand @round--robin
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bet-on-me-13 · 10 months
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Batman pisses off Danny one day, so he decided to take revenge
Tim and Barbra aren’t the only ones addicted to Coffee, all of them are. Not a single one doesn’t rely on Coffee to function.
So Danny makes sure to make everybody just coincidentally forget to buy more coffee when they go shopping. He makes sure their orders are always misplaced when they go to a Cafe. He even makes it so that if they do ever get their hands on Coffee, it simply will not flow out of the Cup, it will flow around their mouths, or recede whenever they try to reach for it
Like Tantalus.
The Batfamily are begging Bruce to apologize to Danny, but he refuses to on principle
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