Xaden and Sgaeyl - Fourth Wing
Artist: @kaylahardyart

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Xaden and Sgaeyl - Fourth Wing
Artist: @kaylahardyart

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Violet and Tairn - Fourth Wing
Artist: @kaylahardyart
~Iron Flame Spoilers~
I don't know what makes me want to cry more, that Andarna waited 650 years for Violet, or that she makes her scales black cause she wants to be like Tairn
"back off" with Jaason?
TW: patronizing man
Scary dog privileges. That’s what Artemis called it once when she saw him in action.
Even if you were simply stopping by the corner store for some more bananas and yogurt, he was there. Anytime the sun set on Gotham and the criminals began to crawl out of the shadows, you couldn’t go anywhere without your guard dog.
At first it rubbed you the wrong way. Did he not trust you?
But then you learned quickly that it wasn’t you he didn’t trust. It was the leering monsters of Gotham who preyed on young women like you. You found solace in his presence, even if he insisted on following you the ten feet it took you from your work to your front door.
But this was the first time that Jason Todd had to go into scary dog mode during the day.
SFW Fluff Alphabet w/ Jason Todd

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Please Don't Leave (Fear Gas)
Jason Todd x vigilante reader
Synopsis: After returning from a mission to take down an organization similar to the one that trained you to be a powerful assassin when you were little, all you want to do is shower. Life is peaceful waiting for Jason to come hime until you get a call from Stephanie saying that Jason was blasted with fear gas.
Warnings: Mentions of needles, IV's, trauma, death, PTSD, that kind of stuff
FYI: Reader was raised in a Red Room type place and has powerful magic but it's not a super important part of the story, it's just mentioned
Word Count: 2488
Holy hell. This hurt so good 💜
Lalalala Kiss the girl ❤️
Made a sketch~~
My Home - Jason Todd x Reader
Request: @the-midnight-duck "hi! so i love ur work and i was wondering if i could request jason todd and the song hide by juice WRLD?"
"Don't look at me all shocked Drake, you should've known this was coming."
"I- I guess I did... but, Jason you're like insane. And now you're getting ready to propose? I mean, Y/N is great don't get me wrong but I guess I didn't think you'd ever settle down."
"Whatever bird brain, you're too young to get it."
"So explain it Jace."
"You know when you've had like an insane battle, and you're exhausted, and every bone in your body is aching to go home? My body aches for her. I'd run to her, that's home."
"Damn. What about all the partying and shit?"
"I don't miss them at all, they just were distractions to take the pain away but she does that. She lets me lose control and it's not scary, 'cuz I trust her always."
"So you're gonna like settle down Todd? House, kids, Red Hood all done?"
"Never said that. We don't know what we want or where we're going but it's fine. Two lost souls but we have each other so it doesn't matter. God you're so thick skulled sometimes Drake."
"And she's okay with all your... issues?"
"Fuck's that supposed to mean?"
"Like your night job, the trauma, you dyi-"
"She knows everything. And loves me through it."
"All your demons?"
"Every last one."
"Then you're damn lucky Jason. Sometimes it feels like girls like that are hard to find."
"You'll find your home soon Timbers. And once you do I swear you'll get what I'm talking about. It changes everything. Seriously. When I fight it's to protect her, her world. She gives me purpose."
"I'm gonna start recording this you softie."
"You know I'd kick your ass."
"Y/N wouldn't like that lover boy."
"Add it to the list. *Cocks gun*"
*sigh* this is perfection
Preorder here!
Preorder price is £40 each!
Preorder end date- 15/01/2023 this is just the date where they will get canceled for good if not many interest if many preorders happen before this date they will be made way faster just depends on interest. If not many sales/interest by this end date who ever preordered will get refunded. also if you feel like you don’t want to wait anymore just message me to cancel/get a refund.
i am… soft

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Koga was on some hot boy shit when he simped for Kagome till the END. You're telling me you watched this KING accept a rejection when she chose Inuyasha because he cared more about her happiness than their potential relationship and you DIDN'T drool for him? Can't relate
I always wanted to make a fan dress concept of Alice Madness Returns and Mass Effect mash-up
Happy Birthday, Darlin’
Happy 20th, Sweetheart.
Sleepy drabble with an inexperienced 20 year old Jason Todd. ‘Nuff said, right?
Super Fluff reader insert fic.
Enjoy!
The lamp in the second story window of your home is lit. The buttery glow of the little antique seems to reach out through the dreary October morning and burrow down into his chest. Heat kindles in the tender spot, and he smiles to himself as a swell of joy rushes through him. He’s dizzy with it, tickled to feel that a flush of warmth has made his cold skin prickle all the way from his head to his toes.
You left the light on for him. It is an assent to his presence. When you want uninterrupted sleep or space, you switch your lamp off. The two of you settled on this method of indication after your roommates began lodging complaints about the odd hours Jason came knocking. Because he sticks to a relatively nocturnal schedule, early AM visitation is his most common time-frame. So early, actually, that it could still be considered extremely late from the night before.
When the lamp in your window is on, he easily scales the ramshackle siding of the 3-bedroom you share with 5 people and slides in through the unlocked framework. It’s tricky for him to do so quietly this morning. He’s eager, and the chill air is thick with the kind of moisture that doesn’t have the altitude to be rain, nor the commitment to become a proper embankment of dense Gotham fog. He slips twice, and knocks himself a good one in the shoulder against the gutter as he struggles to keep his boots in place on the slick shingles of the overhang beneath your window. He makes it though, stripping off his muddy boots and heavy jacket so as not to trail any mess and mindful not to break the delicate reading light that acts as a literal beacon of consent which allows him such liberties as creeping into your bedroom.
The swollen, fond feeling inside of him redoubles when his eyes fall on you. He is still for a moment, gaze wandering from the nip in your waist up over the soft curve of your hip. He always takes a few seconds to admire you as you sleep. To have the intimate space of your bedroom offered to him, to be so trusted as to be welcomed into such a space while you are unconscious…
Every time, he relishes the opportunity to enjoy the faith and consideration that you extend to him by allowing these ludicrous early visits.
You always sleep half-curled on your side. Even swathed in a full comforter and an additional plush throw blanket, he can still make out parts of your figure which he admires. As he approaches your bedside, he reaches back into the pocket of his jeans, retrieving the present he’s carried with him all night through patrol.
You stir before he moves to wake you, and so he forgoes gently climbing into bed. He drops his weight behind you, pulling you back against him. The blankets unravel as he weasels his free hand beneath them to rub up and down your side. He nuzzles his face into your hair and hums a low, wordless greeting while you draw in a few loud, lazy lungfuls of air.
“Mmph,” you groan, tongue clumsy from sleep. It is a whiny, inarticulate sound, and it takes you a while to gather enough of your mind to form words. “Your hands are cold,” you say, flipping some of the blankets back over him. “So is your nose.”
You thread your fingers through his, dragging his hand up over your chest and tucking it beneath your chin. Doing so effectively tightens his arm around your middle, and you snuggle back toward him with a sweet, drowsy lack of inhibition. Every part of him is cold, you realize. Sort of damp too, at least his hair and his cargo pants. You nestle down against the hand at your throat, worried that he might get sick but too tired to verbally fuss.
Jason procrastinates until you doze off again, soaking in your easy warmth and affection while his other hand reflexively tightens in a pattern over your gift. He’s got it under your pillow now, having unthinkingly helped pose the both of you into your common shared sleeping arrangement. Nervous energy keeps him from resting as the doubts he’s had all week about his gift selection begin to plague his mind with a keener ferocity, now that the time to actually give it to you is here.
“Babe,” he whispers just above your ear. “Baby?” He gives you a firm squeeze before beginning to jostle you back and forth between his arm and torso. “Wake up, okay? I’ve got something for you.”
You take another one of your deep breaths, face scrunching into a malcontent contortion. “M’wake,” you mumble, clearly not.
He gives an airy chuckle, pressing a firm kiss to your temple before hauling the both of you upright. You hiss, fighting to remain within the toasty, comforting blankets. When you’re good and vertical with at least one eye peeped open, Jason maneuvers so as to be directly in front of you.
“Hey,” he grins, feeling suddenly foolish and a bit shy. You don’t look particularly happy, and he wonders if he should have allowed you to sleep. It’s your day, after all.
You respond simply, clearly somewhat confused. “Hey?”
Your voice is tender and soft, having worked through the gravelly portion of misuse and developed into a delicate, almost musical murmur. The sound gives him pause, and he goes back in to press another kiss to your hot, flushed cheek. He stays close for a moment, embracing you with only his nearness and not with his arms. When he leans back down on his haunches, he extends the bundle in his hand.
“I wanted to be the first to tell you and, ya’ know, the first one to give you a present.” You’re really smiling now, both beautiful eyes wide and sparkling in the warm lambency from the little lamp in the corner. “It’s like… four o’clock in the morning, so I’m pretty sure I get to be the first one who says it.” He grips your chin with the fingertips of one hand, tilting your face up and planting a proper kiss over your lips, heedless of morning breath. “Happy Birthday, Darlin’.”
He says this while your noses are still touching, eye to eye and smiling like the devil on a stormy Sunday morning. You go sheepish looking at him when he makes faces like that, with his eyes so bright and his teeth flashing all white and sharp in just the right places. Demurring, all too aware of the stale heat emanating from your tongue and suddenly quite nervous about something like morning breath, you drop your head and set the crest of your cheek gently against his jaw before moving back.
“Thank you, baby,” you mumble, leaning back against your headboard and plucking at the plain, hearty paper and butcher’s twine he used to wrap your present. “You’re definitely the first one to wish me a happy birthday on my actual birthday, for sure.”
It is a book, as you thought it’d be. This one is a well-worn paperback that looks to be of a scholastic persuasion. It’s cover is creased and torn, baring a wild artistic image that you recognize as an engraving of William Blake. Your head cocks to the side as you gently look the battered work over for a title. It’s on the spine, and you shoot Jason a curious look when you can’t quite make out what it says because of the deterioration and damage done by copious readings.
“Blake?” you question, wondering what in the world you were supposed to do with this gift.
Jason beams, practically puffing his chest he’s so proud that you recognized the artwork on the cover. “Yeah!”
“Uh, I don’t know much about Blake,” you confess, turning the book back and forth in your palms. “I mostly know his art and, well, the tiger poem.”
“Yeah…“ he says, enthusiasm completely wilted. His sentences become halting as the room fills with the combined discomfort and awkward confusion of both you and your boyfriend. “I uh, I was kinda’ hoping you didn’t know much about him. He’s one of my favorites. Of the romantics, anyway. Really more like a proto-romantic. And he’s not like my favorite, favorite author. Just a good one. Sorta’. He’s weird.”
Silence grows as you try to process your reaction to the gift. It is very early, mostly the middle of the night, after all. You’re not entirely sure what you think of it. You are grateful though, grateful that he thought of you and that he was so excited to wish you a happy birthday.
You catch his eye, and hug the book to your chest with a small smile. “Thank you,” you say, leaning forward a bit and deepening your expression so as to properly communicate your gratitude.
He nods, still obviously disappointed and perturbed. Just as you are about to reach forward to offer him a comforting touch, he extends his hand and gestures for the book. With only a bit of hesitation, you relinquish it back to him.
“This uh, this was the first book that Alfred bought for me after I moved into the manner.”
“Oh!” you say, his context suddenly tripling your interest in the paperback.
Jason rarely spoke about his past. You knew a rough outline of everything that had gone on, but certainly no details.
He doesn’t look up at you, cracking the book open and petting some of the pages with the gentlest brush of his fingertips. “Yeah. Alfred and sometimes, well actually, pretty often Bruce too… they’d read me poems from this book. I made them read it over and over again. Always a poem from The Songs of Innocence and then they’d flip all the way back to the back and find the corresponding work to the first poem in The Songs of Experience. I hated it when they didn’t read one right after the other, even though the collections were published separately. I felt like they were skipping a chapter or something if the poems weren’t read together.”
You don’t know if it’s the somewhat stunned expression on your face or the silence that presses him to explain, but you are enchanted as he continues on.
“Like ‘The Tyger’ for example, it has a companion poem called ‘The Lamb.’ They were written to contextualize one another and question… well God, basically. Intelligent design. ‘The Lamb’ focuses on purity, childhood innocence, and guileless trust in the watchful design of God. ‘The Tyger’ though, the one from The Songs of Experience, it details the hitches and complications in believing that the same God from ‘The Lamb’ would create such good, delicate, innocent creatures and then force them to live in the same world as monsters and fear and man-eaters.”
“Wow.” You give the book another sly glance as it rests in his hands, feeling that you perhaps underestimated the contents and, certainly, that you underestimated the emotional connection Jason has to it.
He chuckles again, humorlessly this time, still not looking at you. “Yeah. I stole it out of Bruce’s penthouse over a year ago. He um- he had a bunch of stuff from when I was a kid moved there after… what happened.”
You didn’t think it was possible, but your eyes find a way to go even wider. Jason never, never talks to you about that.
Never.
You learned about it from Tim. And the newspaper, of course.
Jason wants to shove the book down his throat. This is the first birthday in your relationship, and he ruined it with a dumb gift because he’s a dumb idiot. When he saw your face, looking down at the stupid freaking poetry book with zero surprise or delight, it’s like he started word vomiting. He can’t get it to quit, and he can’t look at you while this comes out of his mouth.
“I thought he moved it there to, I dunno’, forget about me? Keep me off of his mind. Dick told me though,” Jason pauses to take a deep breath, obviously getting overwhelmed. “He told me a while after I broke in and saw so much of my stuff in there that Bruce had uh- he’d gotten real mean after. That he couldn’t be around anyone. Not even Alfred. He moved out of the manor with my things, and he kept them at the penthouse to visit them or something, I guess? It was a weird explanation. This is all weird. I’m so sorry. I should have gotten you a newer copy or maybe just-”
“No!” You lurch forward, snatching the book out of his hand and wrapping your arms around him. “No,” you say more calmly, touched beyond belief that he would give you what amounted to a piece of himself as a gift.
“I love it. It’s perfect, and I love it.”
He puts his weight behind the hug, folding around you and squeezing so firmly that your breath is short. “I love you,” he grumbles into your hair, still unhappy with himself for derailing this gesture so thoroughly.
“I love you too,” you say, tapping at his elbow as a request for him to lighten his hold. He does, and you lean back with an infectious, dazzling smile. You hold the book up, eager and no longer self-conscious or sleepy. “Will you read me some of the poems?”
“Uh,” his face goes bright red, the blush running all the way to the tips of his ears. “I don’t really know how well I can read aloud, babe. But, I mean, it’s your birthday. If you want to pick a few, I’ll give it a try.”
With a giddy nod, you flip open the book to find an inscription in red ink on the title page:
Happy 20th Birthday, my Sunny Girl!
This book is full of one man’s ideas about life, beauty, and the things that he thought were worth protecting.
None of them are half as beautiful or worthy as you.
Love, J.
Source
These dudes are fucking legit. They don’t just show up one day in court, either, they actually make friends with the kids and let them know they have a support system and that there are people in the world who care about them and will always have their back. And less important, but also cool, is that the few times a couple of them have come into my cafe, they’ve been super friendly and polite and when I told one of the guys that I noticed his Bikers Against Child Abuse patch and wanted him to know how awesome I thought he was because of it, he got kind of shy and blushed and said, “The kids are the awesome ones, we just let them know they’re allowed to be brave.”
The source is long, but so, so good. These men and women are available in 36 states, 24 hours a day to stand guard at home, in court, at school, even if the child has a nightmare. Many of them are survivors of childhood abuse as well, and know what it’s like to feel scared and alone.
In court that day, the judge asked the boy, “Are you afraid?” No, the boy said.
Pipes says the judge seemed surprised, and asked, “Why not?”
The boy glanced at Pipes and the other bikers sitting in the front row, two more standing on each side of the courtroom door, and told the judge, “Because my friends are scarier than he is.”
Actual tears.. hnngh
Show me more of people like this, world. I give up on humans too easily.
where do i sign up for this,i want to be in this gang
This is fucking amazing. It may be out of character for me to say this but rock on
Bikers Against Child Abuse was founded in 1995 by a Native American child psychologist whose ride name is Chief, when he came across a young boy who had been subjected to extreme abuse and was too afraid to leave his house. He called the boy to reach out to him, but the only thing that seemed to interest the child was Chief’s bike. Soon, some 20 bikers went to the boy’s neighborhood and were able to draw him out of his house for the first time in weeks.
Chief’s thesis was that a child who has been abused by an adult can benefit psychologically from the presence of even more intimidating adults that they know are on their side. “When we tell a child they don’t have to be afraid, they believe us,” Arizona biker Pipes told azcentral.com. “When we tell them we will be there for them, they believe us.” ( Article)
More about BACA, from their site
My parents are a part of this organization and they are metal af
They go on runs to protect the child if they feel even the slightest threatened no matter where. If the child needs them to go on vacation with them, they do. Bikers come from across the nation to watch over and take shifts for these kids. And the best part is once you’re adopted into this family as a BACA kid, you’re always one. Even when you’re 40 and the perp gets released from jail, they’ll come meet with you and find your best options for avoiding the person and maintaining the life you’ve built for yourself. Once a BACA child, always a BACA child. In Florida, there’s 100% rate for identifying the perp based on the child’s testimony. Why? Because BACA stands with the child and supports the child so they feel comfortable enough to point out their attacker.
What’s better than a badass biker gang being on your side???
NATIVE AMERICAN CHILD PSYCHOLOGIST WHO IS A BIKER AND NAMED HIMSELF CHIEF HELL YES I’M HERE FOR THAT AND BIKERS BEING BAD ASS TO PROTECT KIDS. HELL YEAH.
it’s back! I will always reblog BACA
Damn good people.
I know they wouldn’t consider themselves such, but these people are freaking heroes and the world is a better place because of them.
Hey folks, it talks about this in the article but its not mentioned in this post, BACA is a 501 © (3) charity that depends in part on donations to help pay for stuff like gas for their bikes. If you want to help, consider donating.
@copperbadge You like posting about heroes, Sam. Seems like this would be up your alley.
I love these folks! I’ve reblogged them before but it’s wonderful to see the donation information has been added.
Always reblog. Keep doing what you’re doing y'all.
Guys? This post changed my life. I saw this post. Forever ago. And thought it was only in america… and wished desperately that they could help me. But then I saw it again, during a bad episode, and checked their site. They aren’t just in the USA
They’re in Canada as well and probably other countries. I met and talked with a native guy who runs the place near me. His name is Shaman. I got in, and I’m considered a BACA child now. Despite being 17, turning 18 when I talked to them. They spent time with me when my abuser was over, they gave me therapy resources. They give you something called a ‘level 1′ where they go to your house with as many bikers as they can, i shit you not a solid 20-40 bikers came from even out of province, and met me. I got to choose my biker name and I got a vest with patches on it and my name on it. They all hugged a Teddybear before giving it to me, and told me if I ever felt the BACA bear was running out of love, to give them a call and they’d refill it for me, and then I got a ride on one of their bikes. Just a day or so ago I went to an annual party with them and they we ate food one of them cooked and had a lot of laughs.
I’ve never felt as loved as I did being a part of the BACA family. They also gave me dog tags with the names, and phone numbers of my 2 workers. So I can call them whenever I feel scared.
BACA is an absolutely wonderful group that will do everything in it’s power to help any child whos been abused.
And it doesn’t end when you’re 18 either. As long as you get in contact/get your level 1 before you’re 18? you’re ALWAYS a BACA kid. I’m 18 now and they still invite me to parties, ask me if I’m okay, and are there for me. They’re still trying to find me resources for therapy.
BACA has changed my fucking life.
I hope you all can read this, and reblog it knowing from someone who fucking been with them, that they are absolutely amazing.
If I ever don’t reblog this, it’s because I am physically being restrained against my will.
Supporting your local hero’s.
FUCKEN AMAZING what these Bikers do!!!! This is why I don’t give up on humanity…
💞🖤💞 Carpe Diem 💞🖤💞
Links the International BACA Chapters:
United States
Canada
Australia
Belgium
Denmark
Germany
Spain
France
Italy
Netherlands
Iceland
Austria
Greece
New Zealand
Portugal
Sweden
United Kingdom
Switzerland
B.A.C.A’s Byline: “Keepers of the Children.” B.A.C.A.’s Motto: “No child deserves to live in fear.”
Not all heroes wear capes, some wear biker vests.
Had seen this before, but never realised that this is on an international level - there’s even a contact address close to where I live (in Germany), very cool (though hoping the only use I’ll ever have to make of it is for donations) ❤
he be contemplating

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The Mantutorial: Part 1 - Armor
I asked and people seemed interested, so here's a breakdown of Din's armor!
Please note that not all of this is 100% screen accurate and comes mainly from my own experience drawing him and cosplay experience! So keep that in mind.
I tried to get multiple angles on the more complicated stuff, like the chest plate and the gauntlet, cause those are the ones I personally find most difficult! But other than that, I cannot recommend using 3D references enough! Specifically I use this model and this whenever I draw Din and used them a lot for this tutorial. You can spin him around right on the webpage so you don't need to download software or anything!
Other than that I really recommend just drawing him a lot, from lots of angles! That's the best way to get comfortable with drawing this funny tin guy.
Depending on the response, I might do another reference for the soft bits/extra armor/belts! Just lmk on here or in the tags if you're interested. Oh and also one for Boba or Paz!
And if this helped you, consider reblogging and even following if you wanna catch more as it arrives! :)
Hope this helps! And say thank you to stando for his help as a demonstration!
————————————-
Sideways
Details: Post-ME 3 (12 years after), action/adventure/romance, original novel in a 5 part series
Status: Currently posting, 250k words currently, first draft already written, part 3 of 5 posting in May
Summary: Shepard is a family woman, humanitarian, human councilor before she trades timelines with her renegade alter ego. Now she’s a hated war criminal who’s path of destruction has won her enemies, even from among her greatest friends.
She must find a piece of rare technology before the returning memories lock her in place forever. Is the way home worth the ultimate sacrifice?
Burning Barriers
Details: Post-ME 3 (6 months after), action/adventure/romance, original novel in a 3 part series
Status: Complete, 300k words
Summary: Shepard, eager to be aboard the Normandy again, sets off to save the Sol System. Her mission objective is simple: find a piece needed to fix the mass relay. Instead, she finds treachery.
Meanwhile, Kaidan uses his new status as Spectre. The Normandy is missing. Though Shepard let him go, he’s determined to help her from afar. He’ll face down the Alliance and his own moral principals to save her from death.
About Mars …
Details: ME 3, fluff/mild angst/humor, chronologically-connected short-stories filling in the holes of the game
Status: Complete, 65 k words
Summary: Shepard and Kaidan try to rebuild what they’ve lost, but it may be harder than they thought. Meanwhile, crew antics expound.
Includes the space hamster, matchmaking, good-natured thievery, Christmas presents, midnight conversations, and Shepard trying to be romantic.
About Horizon …
Details: ME 2, angst, Kaidan’s side of the story
Status: Complete, 30k words
Summary: How did Kaidan earn three promotions in two years? Why does he deserve to become Spectre? Were his words on Horizon justified? This is Kaidan’s side of the story.
Eighteen Years and Five Months
Details: Post-war (2 years after), fluff/humor
Status: Complete, 10k words
Summary: Eighteen years and five months ago, Shepard lost her home. Now she’s engaged to Kaidan. Can she fit into a family again?
The Limited Edition Spaceship
Details: ME1, one-shot, humor, gift for my good friend, ripley95
Status: Compete, 1k words
Summary: “What the hell is this?” Shepard slammed something down on the table. Kaidan lowered the sandwich from his mouth. He’d been wondering when she’d find it.