#The aesthetics are fast and loose here

[spacedoutwitch]

On D&D News: Small Robot Keeps Brandishing Knife At Livestock, More at 12.

[hooniebaekgu]

Past Midnight

PAIRING : Park Jongseong x female Reader

GENRE : fluff, smut mostly

Warning : MDNI! established relationship, both are idols, reader implied to be soloist, use of the word 'doll' and 'jongie', implied multiple rounds, unprotected sex (don't be silly wrap your wi- sorry) not proofread!!

Word Count : 1.7k

Yukki's Notes : took me so long to find the perfect aesthetic omg

Your relationship with Jay has been nothing short of a roller coaster ride. As idols, you both had some image to preserve.

It honestly sucked that you had to snoop around at ass o'clock in the night just to see your boyfriend, but oh well. And throughout your relationship, Jay had been an amazing boyfriend.

Not that you've been in any relationship before him, but he still surpassed any expectations you've had. Emotionally and physically.

But recently you haven't even gotten to talk to Jay, let alone meet him. He had returned from a tour and was practically locked in practice rooms for their new comeback.

So you weren't expecting him to be knocking on your door past midnight. As soon as you opened the door, you were pushed to the nearest wall, his lips on yours, practically devouring you.

After a moment or two, you kissed back. His hands roaming all over your body, one coming to rest on your waist while the other squeezed your ass, giving it a light slap. You pulled away with a gasp.

“What are you doing here, Jay?” you said, eyeing his lips wet with saliva.

“Not happy to see me?” he said with a pout, feigning hurt. His hand on your waist slowly crept up, softly running against the small of your back.

“I'm always happy to see you baby,” you said, pushing away the loose strands of hair. “but you texted me this morning, saying that you would be busy the whole day.”

He sighed, pulling you closer. His eyes roaming over your face with adoration. “I was supposed to be, but I wouldn't shut up about you at practice. And Jungwon kicked me out, so here I am.” He watched you throw your head back, laughing at his innuendo.

“Did you eat yet?” he asked, and watched you nod your head. “I haven't, I'm hungry baby.” he said in a low tone, giving you those eyes.

“Well what would you like to have Jongie?” you asked teasingly knowing he loved that nickname.

“You.” he said, leaning in and pressing kisses on your neck, you gasped tilting your head back to give him more access.

“Baby,” you say, although your sentence has been forgotten somewhere as he sucks on that spot on your neck. “A-ah, Jay listen” you say lightly pushing him away.

“You have a schedule tomorrow, we need to sleep.” you say taking in his disheveled appearance despite not even doing anything. His eyes were dazed, as if he didn't even hear what you said, maybe he didn't.

“I don't care doll, I'll survive. Although I can't say the same if you don't let me make you feel good.”he said, looking at you with pleading eyes.

Jay saw your resolve faltering, not waiting for a response he picked you up by your waist. You wrapped your legs around his waist subconsciously.

“A-Ahh, Jongie fuck please.” you loudly whined, eyes barely open as you try to give him a pleading look.

Jay had been fingering you god knows how long, you've cum maybe 3? 4? times. And it seemed that he wasn't satisfied.

“Please what doll?” he said, his voice low as he took in your face, you were absolutely gone. And yet begging for more. His fingers were pumping in and out of you fast, you could cum from this but you wanted more.

Normally, he wouldn't even have to hear a ‘please’ from you. He would give you anything you asked for, but today he felt a little mischievous.

He wanted you to beg him, he wanted to see that you wanted him just as he wanted you. He knew you did, but he wanted to see it.

“Jongie please, I-” you said, cutting yourself off and shying away from his gaze. God he loved you, he loved how one moment you looked so sinful yet the other you were so shy you couldn't even look at him

“How am I gonna know what you want if you don't tell me doll? Say it.” he said, fucking menace.

He curled his fingers in you, hitting a spot that had you drooling. He was trying to give you a little push, you were too aware of your actions to beg so he was inching you closer and closer to that delicious sub space.

Your eyes rolled to the back, arching your back as you came all over his fingers, some of it even landing on his wrists. It took you some time to realize that you squirted.

Jay eyed your cunt hungrily, he wanted to eat you out so bad. But that would have to wait, he wanted nothing more than being buried in your cunt to the hilt.

“I want you. I need your cock.” you whined out, brain a mush from the orgasm but still hungry for more. Jay loved how desperate you became whenever it came to sex.

“Wasn't so hard, was it doll?” he said, mocking your shyness.

He did not have the patience to beat around the bush, or even dirty talk you through. Which was huge considering he loved dirty talking.

He got rid of his boxers, pants already gone back when you two were making out. His hard cock slapping against his stomach, precum oozing out as he stroked himself.

He looked up to see you eyeing him with hunger in your eyes. He didn't have to wait more, without a word he lined himself to your cunt, rubbing his tip against your clit.

You both moaned out as his tip finally entered, the burning desire you felt finally melting as he pushed more and more into you.

You felt so full, Jay groaning and dropping his head in the crook of your neck feeling you so tight around him.

“Doll relax, stop clenching.” he said, rubbing the side of your torso, trying to calm you down.

He pulled out, only his tip in you. You whined at the loss of contact, but the sound was caught in your throat as he slammed back in you.

“God, you always feel so good, doll.” he moaned, grinding his hips harder into you.

You let out a long moan, hands coming up to grab at his shoulders. Your nails scratching his back, leaving red marks in your wake, as his hips piston in you, back and forth leaving your pussy a wet mess.

You wrap your legs around his waist, making him go deeper, if that was even possible. He set a fast pace from the start, not giving any thought to your overstimulation, he knew you liked it. “Jay.” you moan, you hold eye contact with him, knowing how much he loves that.

You've never seen him so desperate, his hips thrusting in you almost animalistically. His hands holding you down, making you take everything he was giving.

He angled his hips, hitting your sweet spot, your moans were drawled out and hoarse. He pushed his face in your neck, moaning your name almost in a daze.

He suddenly pushed your legs to your chest, bending you in half. His hips thrusting in you ruthlessly, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Hah doll fuck, spot clenching so much.” he moaned out, hot breath fanning your face as his hips seemed to have a mind of their own.

You moaned his name loudly as you felt him hitting your g-spot continuously, lifting your pelvis to meet his every thrust. Your thighs were covered in your arousal, cunt dripping with slick.

His pelvis hitting yours and making loud wet noises, you were feeling overwhelmed. Your cunt squelching and sucking in his cock, wanting more and more.

Jay leaned in connecting your lips, pushing his tongue down your throat. You sucked on his tongue, spit falling down the side of your face. Everything felt hot, it was too much and yet you loved it.

He moaned loudly around your lips feeling you clench around him, he threw his head back in pleasure.

“Tell me you like this doll. Fuck tell me you like me using your cunt to get off.” he said, moaning after every couple words, his deep voice making you clench harder around him.

“H-Hah, fuck yes. Like it so much baby, I love your cock, you make me feel so good.” you said, barely able to speak with how fast he was fucking you.

Jay reached down, rubbing circles on your clit, just how you like it. He drops one of your legs from his shoulder, wrapping it around his waist. Wanting to fuck you deeper, make you cream all over his cock.

His eyes roll to the back of his head feeling you clench around him so tight, your pussy trying to suck him in.

Jay falls forward, his arms barely holding his weight as he continues to piston in you. He wouldn't be able to stop his hips even if he wanted to, the sex felt too good.

He mumbles rushed ‘I love you’s against your lips, rubbing your clit faster. Wanting to make you cum, needing to make you cum.

You arch your back, pelvis rubbing against his as you cum. Your cum making a mess all over his abdomen and running down thighs, but you know he loves it.

Jay's arms give out, feeling you clench around him. He finally let's go, thick spurts of cum painting your walls white. He falls forward, his face buried in your neck as he slowly rides his high out.

You both stay that way for a while, catching your breath from the mind blowing orgasm you've just had. Jay slips out of you, rolling over to lay down beside you.

“Should we just sleep like this?” you ask, tired out of your mind. You were desperately hoping that he would agree.

“Sure.” he said monotonously, pulling you closer wrapping his arms around you and pushing your head in his chest.

You wrap your arms around his torso, pressing a kiss on his collarbone. “I love you.” you mumble, although you were half asleep already, Jay knew you meant it. You always mean it.

“I love you too, doll.” he said, running his hands through your hair till he heard your breath slow down. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, looking at your sleeping face with adoration.

[vase-of-lilies]

❀  Pairing: Medusa!Wanda Maximoff x Blind!Reader (F)

❀ Warnings: Reader is “sacrificed” and “saved by Wanda”, so much fluff, really quick acceptance, sexual content, Wandas snakes have their own personalities and love to mess with the reader when she is just snuggling with Wanda or when she is just chilling (lol), fingering, oral (r receiving), Wanda just flicking our bean while out on the beach, the snakes calm reader down IDK OK, 

❀Disclaimer The pictures only represent aesthetic and themes. There is no certain skin color, body type, ethnicity, or description other than Y/n and “you”. Credit to who made the pictures in the banner as well.

❀ Authors Note: I have started reading the story called “Stone Blind” and it is a re-telling of the story of Medusa and telling the “true” story of how she became the “monster” she turned into. I feel like that even though Medusa was assaulted, she deserves love and I think that having a blind reader would help her feel like she was loved based off of her personality, not of fear. This story is a little lighter than the others, but it still is dark with hints of kidnapping and captivity. I will also be keeping Stheno and Euryale, Medusa’s original sisters, just for the organization of plot purposes! There are quotes in here that are loosely based on “Stone Blind”! All credit to Natalie Haynes for the style of Medusa I use!!

It’s a cooler summer day in Greece, rain feeding the dry crops with much-needed food. The drought that Zeus brought to the mainland was devastating, causing crops, veggies, and fruits to cripple before they were ripe enough to pick. This was a punishment for the greediness the people were showing, thriving a little too much to the god's liking.  

It wasn’t uncommon for the god to be selfish like this. He would often flood the fields with too much water, making them die equally fast. Your village was one of the many affected by this cruel situation. You later learn that Zeus had a bad day and wanted to take it out on someone other than his poor wife in the clouds. 

These games he played were difficult to navigate, as the world through your eyes was sightless. Just like tinnitus in the ear, your eyes seemed to feel the same way; clouded and blurred figures with every movement of your eyes. You were born this way, and no amount of begging could have changed what you encounter daily. 

However, with this blindness, your other senses are heightened. Your hearing was better than most, and you did everything possible to protect it as it was your most powerful sense. Every chirp of a cricket, creek of a door, a voice outside your home. You could hear it all. 

It was a blessing and a curse at the same time. “She won’t even know we are gone, she can’t see us. Out of sight, out of mind.” This was the last thing you heard from your parents before they abandoned you. Your heart broke when you heard those words, never feeling such betrayal from someone you loved before. It was that moment that caused you to shut off your emotions to other people. 

At the age you are now, it was difficult to find really anyone who would accept your blindness, and love who you were on the inside. What never occurred to you was the fact that you needed someone who felt the same. Someone who felt an insecurity that needed to be validated by someone similar. 

This was exactly how Wanda felt. She was the youngest of the Gorgon Sisters, born a mortal human but was punished by a goddess out of jealousy and spite. 

The goddess Athena was spoiled by her father, getting everything and anything she wanted with a snap of her fingers. When she was betrayed, she didn’t punish Poseidon, who in fact was the person who caused this problem in the first place. She punished the poor girl who was hurt by Poseidon, all because the situation unfolded in Athena's own temple. 

Why did she choose Wanda to punish? Because she was mortal and did not have to suffer through centuries of war and turmoil. The night she went to Wanda's cave, her sisters were out hunting; gathering for their mortal sister so she could eat. Athena took this opportunity of Wanda's solitude to torture her, ripping every piece of hair from her head, forcing red, writhing snakes to take their place. 

She was in pain for days, her scalp burning with every movement the snakes made. Her nights were spent screaming and sobbing into the darkness of her cave, her sisters trying everything they could to soothe her. They were only met with silence until the day she finally spoke up about who hurt her. Her sisters were angry with the sea god for even looking at their loved one. They had their own way of punishing Poseidon, but of course, the god couldn't care less. He was powerful and could do whatever he wanted, just like his niece Athena. 

Some could say that Athena took pity on Wanda for what her uncle did. And to keep the other gods away from her, the powerful goddess turned the girl's beautiful locks of hair into a head of writhing snakes. This was for protection from her uncle and any of the other greedy and overpowered gods that rule the world. 

No matter the tale that one has heard, what is true is that Wanda is now considered a monster just like her sisters. But who determined what a monster was? Was a monster someone merely different from you? Or was it men that made everything monsters? Men seem to be afraid of powerful women, or women with sharp teeth, wings, and tusks. 

Monsters are misunderstood. 

The two sisters are some of the most gentle creatures to adorn the earth's surface. Sure, they hunt animals and look a little scary, but they keep a flock of sheep, learn how to cook bread, and take care of their mortal baby sister. 

The first time they met Wanda, Stheno’s talon gently brushed along her cheek, wiping away a tear that had fallen when she arrived on the sand. Now that Wanda is a grown woman, her immortal sisters adapted to her needs. She spent most of her time on the beach, but now spends her time in the depths of her cave, too scared to come out of fear that Poseidon will hurt her again. 

Stheno and Euryale vowed to never let anyone hurt their beloved sister ever again. They hoped that one day she would find a lover who would be willing to love her for who she was. Someone she could grow old with, and love with every fiber (and snake) of her being. 

The snakes… they each have their own personality. There are thirteen (13) in all. Wanda or anyone for that matter has named them or really knows the difference. However, the two snakes at the very front of her head, close to her temples are easily told apart. On the left, there is Fang. She has a visible attitude and can hardly believe her fate was to be on top of someone's head. On the right, there is Lucky. Just like her name, Wanda could tell that she felt lucky to be a part of her host. Fang was sassy and defiant while Lucky was just happy to be there. 

Though the rest of the snakes are just as present as Fang and Lucky, they each have a mind of their own and tend to make Wanda laugh despite her fate. Their hisses of protest when Stheno says that it’s getting dark and to come back into the cave, or when Euryale asks Wanda for her help with something while the snakes are sunbathing. My god, do they love the sun!

You did too. It was for a much different reason than what a seeing person might believe. You loved the sun for its two main purposes; to light up and warm the earth. Now, that may be what everyone thinks of Helios, the god of the sun. But to you, it meant so much more. With no sight and just a blurry field of vision in front of you, the sun kept the colorful blobs of people and obstacles slightly more viewable. 

Selene, the moon goddess was not your favorite. Although she lights the night, most occasions it is only a sliver of light. Once a month do you really get to enjoy the darkness with some light guiding you from place to place. On the nights of the new moon, you stayed in the comfort of your home for the night. Although you could not see the phase of which Selene was in, you knew the darker the next night got, the closer it was to a new moon. 

On one particular evening, you were unaware that it was a black moon. Meaning it was the second new moon in a months time. It was getting dark, but you had the thought that it would be bright enough to make it home, only to make a wrong turn when a man pushed past you. 

Villagers helped you put your fallen fruit back into your basket, and a kind woman gives gently places your bamboo guiding stick back in your hand. You thank them, but you missed the opportunity to ask them the direction of your home. Physically you knew where you were, but again, it was getting dark and you were all turned around. 

Hoping for the best in a difficult situation, you chose to turn right. Usually at this cross road, you would be facing North and your home was East, so you would turn right. Unfortunately, this rocky path led you right to Poseidons’ sea itself. And the god was ever so pleased to have a clueless woman enter his domain. Coming up from the oceans depths, he approaches you in your wandering state.

“Can I help you find your way, miss?” The god asks. Your head follows the voice to the right, unaware of who asked the question. 

“I may be a bit lost,” You say with honesty. “I was on my way back from the market, but stumbled and lost the direction I was going.” Explaining yourself to the stranger felt like the logical explanation, but Poseidon used your confusion against you. 

“No, I think you’re in the right place…” He smirks, gently putting his hand on your shoulder. Your head snaps to the sudden touch, clutching your baskets handle a little tighter. Poseidon isn’t aware of your blindness, all you are to him is a means to an end. He is in debt to his father, Kronos. 

Poseidon knew the moment you stepped foot on to his cool sand, he knew you were perfect. As a god, you think he would know everything about you, but you were very wrong. 

“Here, let me help you find your way back to the road.” He says, removing one of your hands from the basket handle. You allow him, but you are confused as you continue to feel sand beneath the sole of your sandals. The moon was not there, and you were helpless. 

Kronos, the god of time, was betrayed by his son. Poseidon decided to ask his father for time. All the time in the world, when he got ahold of Wanda. He wanted to spend every waking minute with her, fucking her and holding her when she is begging to see her sisters again only to drag her under the oceans surface when he is bored of her. Poseidon gets bored very easily, but Wanda’s pussy was different. Although his father did not question what he was going to use this time for, automatically a debt was owed. 

Poseidon decided against using this time with Wanda, as her whining and begging becoming increasingly annoying. So he sent her back to her sisters to live in peace. That is, until Athena came along of course. He was adamant that he shouldn’t have to pay his father back since he did not use the time. Kronos lended him this time willingly without question. He was determined to get it back. And Poseidon had his sacrifice right in front of him. 

His hand pulled you in the direction of a large rock by the edge of the water, a place that Poseidon remembers greatly. Andromeda was supposed to be sacrificed there, but Perseus swept in and came to the rescue, stopping a large sea monster with the help of Athenas spear and Artemis’s winged sandals. It was a shame to see such a beautiful sea creature leave the world in such a damaging way. 

“Here we are, back on the road again, just a little further,” Poseidon says, his other hand taking the basket from your hands. 

“Hey w-wait, I need tha-” You are cut off by a calloused hand clasping over your mouth. 

“Just stay still and it will all be over soon.” The god whispered in your ear. Your breaths were staggered as you heard his words, confused by what he meant. Soon his hands were untying the soft rope from around your waist holding your silk toga to your body. The fabric fell to the ground, leaving you only in your under garments. You whimpered, trying to understand what is happening.

“Please, whoever you are, let me go. H-have my fruit, t-take the gold!” You fought hard against the gods rock hard torso, fearing for your life. 

“I told you to be still!” He shouted. His arms wrapped your body and he threw you over his shoulder. Damp hair rubbed against your skin as you struggled and a chiseled arm wraps their way around your legs to keep them still. A hard hit to your barely covered ass made you yelp, and you tried scratching at Poseidons back. The immortal couldn’t feel pain, so he took no thought of it. 

With little to no trouble at all, he put your squirming body on the sand and held his hand over your neck to keep your back against the rock. The power he had was nothing compared to your mortal strength. So he held you still by straddling your legs, while his hands expertly tie your wrists together with the very rope keeping your toga on. 

“Please sir, please I’ll do anything.” You whimper as tears fall from your grey eyes. The god ignores you and takes the chain set under the rock by Zeus himself and begins to connect your now-restrained wrists to it. You were trapped, and you could only pray to the gods, any of them, to show you any mercy. 

“There. No need to cry, little one. You are a divine sacrifice for a god that has a lot of power. Don’t struggle, it makes him angry.” Poseidon said, and he tightened his already perfected knot in the rope. 

He stepped back from your crying form and looked up to the sky. “I come to give the debt I owe! Isn’t she enough, father??” He shouts his arms opening. The sea is uneasy, his emotions controlling the tide. 

Thunder claps and you know Zeus is present. “No, brother. Not now.” Poseidon growls, the intention of this sacrifice going to his father, not his sibling. 

The rain soaks into your skin and clothes causing the thin band holding your breasts and underwear to become sheer and see-through. Poseidon took notice of your exposed body and paused his message to his father. Making his way to you, he smirks as he sees you trying to move your wrists from the sturdy, iron padlock connecting them to the chain. “It’s no use, ομορφιά μου (my beauty).” 

You don’t look at him, your futile attempts at escaping only end in failure. He growls when you ignore him, not acknowledging his clear compliment at calling you “his beauty.” Approaching you, he knelt down in front of you and roughly pulled you to face him by your chin. The moment his eyes met yours, an epiphany hit. 

“You’re blind?” He asks, pulling his hand away from you like you were a leper. He knew his father would never take such a broken sacrifice. “Disgusting.” He spat while he stood up. He begins to walk away, your ears barely picking up on his steps thumping in the sand. 

“W-wait! Wait please let me go! I wan-want to go home!” You shout his way, but the god only ignores you walking into the sea and leaving you exposed for anything. 

In a sense, you were grateful that you were no longer Poseidon's sacrifice. But you were still stuck in your current situation, so you went to your last resort. You started to call out, shout, scream, to anyone who you thought could save you. An hour had passed and your voice was nothing more than a croak. 

You were starting to believe that you were going to die on a God's beach with no one in sight to help you. However, someone was watching from afar. A woman who fears to look at you without the knowledge that you are blind. But she was in the same position as you, and she wanted to help you. Yet, she hasn’t had anyone to keep for herself. 

So she considered. Would she be just as evil and selfish as Poseidon for taking you? Could she make you believe that she rescued you and instead not let you leave her cave? Stheno and Euryale would most likely not approve, Wandas sisters love her and only want what is best for her. The snakes on Wanda’s head hissed in question, Lucky gently rubbing her scaly head against her cheek. 

“I know, I really shouldn’t. But she was a victim of that retched god too. Maybe I can finally feel in control… when I am in control of her? I- I don’t want to turn her to stone…” Fang hissed in response, her tongue tickling her opposite cheek. “I could blind fold her, and you’re right, she needs someone to take care of her. She looks like she’s about to die right there. That bastard…” Wanda says to Fang, starting her journey from the beach's small cliffs to the rock you were restrained to. 

Before she makes it to you, she gathers the fruit that fell when the god took you and sets them back into the basket. Then she reaches for your discarded dress and picks it up as well. Finally, she reaches you. Her heart breaks when she sees you. Your wrists are rubbed raw, blood soaking the brown rope surrounding them, tears are stained on your cheeks and your eyes are closed. 

Wanda rips a piece of cloth from your toga and kneels down next to you. Peacefully asleep, you are still as she ties the cloth around your eyes. With the blindfold on, Wanda leans her head down to the rope encasing your injured wrists, one of her snakes near the back of her head — the one with much sharper fangs — begins to chew on the rope. The rope broke free and your arms fell loosely to your lap. 

The smallest whimper left your mouth, exhaustion keeping you fast asleep. Wanda admired your stoic look, your exposed chest moving up and down slowly with each breath you took. She sighs softly, knowing how it felt to be left exposed, for anyone to come across. Her empathy grew as she looked at you, your nipples were seen through the sheer fabric of your strophic (greek bra) and the wind nipped at your skin causing goosebumps to pebble. 

Shaking her head and mentally cursing the sea god, she wraps the fabric of your dress around your body; Adding a length of seaweed to keep it secured to your waist. Oh so gently, she lifted your unconscious body into her arms smiling as your head rolled against her chest. Lucky and Fang were eager to meet you, both of their heads trying to get as close to you as possible. 

“Hey, you’ll get to meet her when we go back home, ok? I promise,” Wanda chuckles, and the snakes pull their bodies back to their place closer to her scalp. 

The journey to her cave was not very far, just around the bend of the cliff. North of where you were destined to be sacrificed. She took care with each step taken, making sure that her prized possession was still asleep, and comfortable. Lucky and Fang looked over you as you slept, keeping their distance until Wanda let them say hi. As scary as they may look, they are all puppies at heart.

Chills crept up your spine as Wanda entered the cave with you in her arms, and goosebumps began to pebble on your skin. She takes notice, gently laying you down on her straw bed in the dim fire-lit cave. Your head lulled to the side, causing Wanda to jump slightly, forgetting that you had the blindfold on to protect you. 

Stheno and Euryale were surprised to see another woman besides their little sister inhabiting the cave, and they curiously looked over your unconscious body. 

“Wanda? Who is this sleeping woman?” Said Stheno, creeping quietly behind her sister. 

“I don’t know her name yet, but I saved her from an untimely death. Poseidon had gotten ahold of her, hoping for a sacrifice, but was unsatisfied by her,” Wanda explains, sighing as she drags her knuckle down your lightly textured cheek. “That bastard is nothing but trouble.” She sighs, trying her hardest to not look at her sisters, understanding that even immortals can turn to stone with one gaze at her eyes.

Euryale eyed Stheno, worried that Wanda may be turning into someone she swore to never become. 

“Did she come willingly?” Euryale asked, settling her wings against her feathered back. 

“She hasn’t woken up yet, but I am sure that she will understand, right?” Wanda was anxious about your awakening, your acceptance of your stay was appreciated and not feared. “Should we wait outside until she wakes up?” 

Wanda's older sisters nod their heads. “I don’t want to frighten her when she opens her eyes. I believe we would be some of the last monsters she would want to see.” Of course, they don’t know that you are unable to see…

“I will go tend to the sheep,” Euryale said.

“I will go set up a fire on the beach and start cooking your meal,” Stheno said, both creatures leaving to do their tasks. 

“And I will go help, and wait for my sleeping beauty to awaken.” Wanda says with a smile, softly swiping her thumb over your cheek. 

~~~~~~~

The same as every other day, your eyes open to a blur of shapes and colors. However, this time is different- you are met with complete darkness, the atmosphere is cold and almost damp, and the scent of salt water fills your nose. There is cloth over your eyes, something you don’t take mind to. Trying to find where you are, you feel around your surroundings to retrieve your guiding stick only to be met with sand, small rocks, and straw. These sensations were familiar but not something you would regularly wake up to. 

Standing up, you struggle to navigate through the cave you concluded you were in, reaching for a wall or something to stabilize yourself with. You let out a sigh of relief as your hand reached a rocky wall. Now you were stuck, you didn’t know what way led out of the cave. 

“Hello?” You call out, your voice echoing through the cave. Your head turns in the opposite direction as you hear padded footprints against the sand. Your worries heightened, unknowing of the person approaching you. 

“Hello dear, I’m so glad to see that you are awake, how do you feel?” The smooth voice of a woman is heard. Gentle, yet assertive. Confusion melts across your face and you take an unintentional step back, causing a slight hissing from the woman in front of you. 

“I- I feel fine, wh- where am I?” You ask, distressed and scared. Being unable to see every day was fine with you, as long as you knew where you were. That fear skyrocketed the moment you woke up in a new environment. 

“No need to worry about that, sweetheart. Come with me,” The woman said, and with a soft hand, she grabbed yours. The unexpected contact started you, but you followed nonetheless. 

“Who are you, a-and why am I here? I want to go back to my home, please.” Cracks in your voice made Wanda turn to face you, only to be met with tears rolling down your cheeks. 

She sighs and stops just at the entrance of the cave. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t cry, you are safe here now. That god won’t get you here.” 

“God?” You don’t remember what had happened the night before, your memory fogging up after falling at the crossroads. “What do you mean, “safe now?” I just want to get back home, the fruit was so expensive.” 

Pulling away from Wanda, you grab at the cloth around your eyes. The fabric falls from your head and hits the ground faster than Wanda can stop you. Panic fills her system, and she quickly turns her head away from you, her head of red snakes following. 

A soft red tendril of energy hits your temple, and you fall unconscious. Before your body hits the ground, Wanda turns and catches you just in time. Guilt takes over her as she looks at your sleeping form, Lucky and Fang are equally as concerned for you as their host. 

The scaled head of Fang nudges against Wanda's cheek, a small hiss emitting from her mouth. “Yes, she’s ok. She was nervous and wanted to see where she was, I know that. Im just going to put her by the fire until she wakes up.” She responds to Fang, her little eyes rolling as she gently taps his head from getting any closer to you. 

As gently as she can, Wanda lifts you into her arms and brings you out to the fire that Stheno lit. She sits down and lays your head in her lap, softly brushing a few grains of sand from your cheek. A groan emits from your closed lips and you subconsciously roll your body closer to the warm fire. It brings you a sense of safety a blanket could never do justice. 

But the feeling of being so close to Wanda felt just as safe, even though you did not know where you were or who you were even with. Her presence gave you a comfort that you hadn’t felt before. Her soft toga rubbed against your cheek, and you nuzzled into it subconsciously. Wanda’s lips turned up into a smile, petting your hair with a gentle hand. The sensation begins to wake you up, pulling you from your forced slumber. Slowly your eyes open, the dull shade of yellow filling your blurred and confined field of vision. 

The blindfold was still on, however, you didn’t mind this time. Whoever’s hold you are in made it clear that they do not want to be seen. Although you are unable to see, you keep your eyes glued to the fire in front of you, the light slightly dimmed by the blindfold. 

“Are you awake, dear?” Wanda’s voice sounds from above you, and you nod your head that lays in her lap. 

“Who are you?” You ask, your voice filled with curiosity but not fear. 

“My name is Wanda, and you are here with my sisters Stheno and Euryale. You are safe, sweetheart.” Wanda responds, her knuckle softly dragging down your cheek. She smiles as you begin to sit up, allowing you to fully sit next to her. 

Your next question was quick to exit, “Where are we? I was on my way home but was turned around,” You explained your situation, leaving out the part where the god almost sacrificed you to his father but left you for the dead when he decided you were not good enough. “I hear water,” You point out. 

“Yes, we are on the beach a ways North from Athens. You needed help, as when I found you, you were chained to a rock,” Wanda said bluntly. “But you’re safe now,” Her snakes hissed at the thought of the woman in front of them being used as a sacrifice, but Wanda was quick to hush them. “And what is your name, sweetheart?” 

The feelings of the rope around your wrists caused you to cringe in disgust, your arms wrapping around yourself.

“R-right…” You respond, trying to get the thought of death from your mind. Shaking your head, you sigh softly and lean back on one hand, answering Wanda's question, “My name is Y/n.”

“What a beautiful name, but I think I’ll stick to calling you sweetheart. Is that alright?” Wanda asks, her finger softly brushing over the exposed skin of your arm. A small smile grows on your lips and you nod. 

“I don’t see why it wouldn’t be,” You say, a small giggle leaving your mouth. “I- um, I do have to ask. Why am I blindfolded?” The question was burning at the back of your skull for what seemed to be hours. From the first time you woke up to now, you had been aching for an answer. 

Wanda hesitates. When she was turned by Athena, she never looked at her sisters. Even though they were immortal, they could still turn to stone if they met her gaze with their own. You hear a soft sigh and her soft voice tainted with sadness answer, “There is a dangerous creature around here that has the ability to turn any entity into stone once you look into her eyes. I cover your eyes for the purpose of protection.” 

“But I can’t see,” You protest, reaching for the fabric. Wanda's hand wraps around your wrist as she stops you. “No, you don’t understand, I can’t see, even with the blindfold off. I was born blind," you explain, trying to help the woman in front of you understand that you were not in danger. 

“Blind?” Wanda asks, your hands falling into hers as you move to your knees. “Meaning, you are unable to see anything?” 

You nod, hoping she can see you. “Yes. There are only blobs of color here and there, but other than that, I can’t see a thing.” It was always difficult to explain what you could see. There was no reason it should be this hard as you could always say: ‘I can’t see anything,’ but you always go to the ‘blob of color’ explanation first. 

“I don’t want to risk it, sweetheart. Blind or not, we don’t know who is not affected by her power,” She pauses, “Ive only just begun to get to know you, I don’t want to talk to a statue of such a beautiful woman.” 

You feel heat rise from your neck, to your cheeks, all the way up to your ears. Her compliment makes you smile brightly. “O-oh, thank you…” You say, shyly looking away from her. “I understand, but, I really don’t think I will be affected, honestly!” You attempt to grab the blindfold again, this time successfully ripping it from your head. The fabric falls to the ground and you blink to allow your eyes to settle back to normal. “If I can’t see the creature, I don’t think it will be a bother,” You smile.

Wanda sighs and closes her eyes, pulling her gaze away from your beautiful figure. She hums as she feels your hand against her shoulder, your thumb softly rubbing over her skin. “May I feel your face? I would love to have an idea of what you look like to others,” You ask her, not wanting to seem too forward with your request. “Only if you allow it…” 

Wanda keeps her head down, her snakes moving down to your hand to move their little tongues over your skin to learn more about you. 

“Oh, oh? What are these?” She hears you say. She is taken aback by the giggling she hears next. “They’re tickling me,” You say, your sweet laughter filling the air. “Is this your hair?” Your finger hovers in the air just above her shoulder and the rest of the snakes lick it as well. 

Wanda’s silence is enough to answer your question. 

“I wish I could see them, they all seem so gent- ow! Except this little one,” Fang, still a little nervous to be around a new face, bites down on your finger. It was not as painful as you thought it would have been. Wanda jumped at your pain and immediately tapped Fang’s head to discipline her. 

“No biting! She is a friend, not an enemy!” Wanda whisper-shouts at her, and you giggle quietly to yourself. “I apologize for her behavior, she knows better.” The snake hisses in return and she sighs as she moves her gaze up just a little bit. Her eyes land on your beautiful breasts, your nipples showing through the thin fabric of your toga. Wanda knows she should not be lusting, but she can’t help it. 

You tilt your head at her scolding her head of red snakes, and your hand falls. “I don’t want to intrude on your home. Thank you for saving me, Wanda, but I best be on my way,” You say, standing up. Carefully, you try to reach around for a stick of some sort, nothing close to you. All you can do is stand awkwardly, trying to keep calm as you listen to the waves crashing against the sand. 

“No, you need to rest, sweetheart. You’ve had a long day, so why don’t you sit down and we can eat? Stheno has made some bread, and the chicken is just about done.” Wanda tries everything in her power to make you stay, not wanting to force you just yet. In her mind, she knows she will make you stay. 

Your stomach rumbles, and Wanda chuckles. “It seems like your hunger has spoken for itself, so lets sit you down again.” 

Before Wanda is able to help you sit down, or protest about anything for that matter, you reach up to feel her face, your eyes meeting hers. Although you were unable to see her beautiful green and red mixed eyes, she saw your grey ones. Your irises held no color, and a scar-like line of [your original eye color] strikes through your right eye. 

You didn’t turn to stone…

“Wanda… Wanda look!” Stheno exclaims. The woman you are looking up at tilts her head, her power not working on you. 

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” You ask, retracting your hands from her cheeks. Instantly, she pulls them back. 

“No, no you didn’t hurt me, sweetheart. I- I am just surprised… my power, it didn’t work,” She says, churning confusion inside of your head. 

“Power?” You pause, putting two and two together. “The creature you mentioned… the one that can turn people to stone, you are her… aren’t you?” 

Wanda nods, your hands moving with her head. “Yes, and, I was trying to protect you, but-”

Your thumb gently brushes over her lips, the rest of your fingers ghosting over her facial structure, sculpting a picture in your mind. “I’ve only heard legends of a so called “monster” in these parts. But I have yet to meet a monster… Besides that god that tried to sacrifice me of course, but you? You are no monster.”

Your words made Wanda's heart melt. She has me wrapped around her finger already… there was no way I was letting her go. Her inner thoughts were loud, and she smiled softly as your fingers grazed her lips again. 

“I’m very. Much aware of my inability to see what most people can with their eyes. But…” You pause, your hand cupping her jaw. “I do see your heart, and I think you’re absolutely beautiful. You took me in when I was vulnerable and scared, and I can’t thank you enough… You are no monster, Wanda.” You whisper, smiling as you feel Wanda’s arms curl around your waist, pulling you against her body. 

“We’ve only just met, sweetheart…are you already falling for me?” Wanda teases, making you giggle as you lay your hand on her shoulder and drop your head to her chest. 

“I might be… or I might just be hungry,” You prod back, your stomach doing somersaults as her lips press to your forehead in a soft kiss. “I hope its the former…”

~~~~~~~

As the night went on, you, Wanda, and her sisters enjoyed the food. You were happy you got to know Wanda a bit more while you talked amongst yourselves. She told you about her troubles with Poseidon, and how she became the 'monster' everybody claims her to be. She mentioned how she is still mortal and will die a death as any other mortal would. 

It saddened you that she considered herself a ‘monster’, but you comforted her every time. She was not a monster in your mind. She was a victim who was punished for someone else’s doing, as were you. Although it was Poseidon who made his father angry, he punished you by trying to sacrifice you. You found common ground with Wanda. 

“I think we will head into the cave for the night,” Said Stheno, nudging Euryale. “Just be sure to put the fire out when you both are done.” 

Wanda nodded at her older sisters, shooing them away as she turned back to you. “It is such a beautiful night… I wish you could experience it the way I am,” She said to you, her fingernails tickling your arm as you lay in her lap. Her heart flutters at the feeling of your body weight in her lap, it grounded her. 

“I can see how beautiful it is by feeling it,” You turn your body so you are looking up at Wanda, her snakes curiously looking back down at you. “I feel a small breeze against my skin, and I can hear the waves crashing against the sand. I can smell the salt coming from the sea, and I can hear your breaths. All of these things are such a beautiful image to me.” 

Wanda’s lips pull up into a smile, a real, genuine smile. It had been so long since she felt as happy as this. It had been so long since she felt so carefree. As you spoke about your experience with your other senses, Wanda softly caressed your cheek. She hums quietly as she notices goosebumps form on your arms. “I have taken my sight for granted,” She says suddenly, taking in everything you said about feeling everything surrounding you. 

“To a deaf person, I have taken my hearing for granted as well, but I am grateful that I can hear your voice,” You counter her thoughts, wanting to make her not feel so guilty about her advantage of sight. 

“Your thoughts are just as beautiful as you are, sweetheart,” Wanda pauses, her fingers moving from your cheek to your neck. Slowly she moves closer to the dip in your dress, your breasts now free from their undergarments, and lying loosely behind the fabric of your toga. “You have the body of a goddess, the mind of a sage, and such a sweet personality.” 

Her hand gently cups your breast, nimble fingers rubbing over your hardened nipple, peaking through the white dress. Your hand goes to hers, holding it still. She freezes, “Can I see you, sweetheart? All of you?” She asks, knowing exactly how it felt being forced to submit to someone much more powerful than her.

As you sit upright, you untie the piece of seaweed holding your dress around your body, the sleeves sliding down past your shoulders finally revealing your round, perfectly shaped breasts. Wanda sucks in a soft breath, an aching in her belly starting to form. She needed you, badly. 

From her crossed-legged position on the ground, Wanda moves to her knees. You can sense her shifting, and you look around to follow the noises. Wanda's smooth hands softly guide you to your back, laying you gently against the sand below you. She then slowly pulls the rest of your dress off, exposing the rest of your beautiful body. “You are even more than I imagined…” She whispers, leaning down close to your chest. 

She presses a kiss to the valley of your bosom, moving her lips up your sternum and to your neck, hovering just over your jugular. You can feel her smile against your neck and you turn your head to expose more skin to her. 

The goddess above you couldn’t hold herself back any longer. Looking at your perfect body from her perspective was riveting, and it drove her mad. Her breath fanned against your lips, your body frozen and waiting for her to kiss you. That dull aching in Wanda's core grew, and she leaned down to kiss you deeply. Your arms wrapped around her neck, and you giggled as some of her snakes licked your hands. But Wanda wanted something else. 

Her eyes began to glow a bright red, her head of snakes wrapping around your wrists. You gasped but allowed it to happen. As she leaned down lower, her snakes held your arms to the ground, holding you open and exposed to Wanda. As she continued to kiss you, her hand crept down your belly and to the soft hairs of your mound. She rubbed your petals, smirking against your lips as she could feel how wet you already were. 

“Mmm, are you all wet just for me, sweet girl?” She whispers against your lips, chuckling softly as you nod desperately. “Such a good girl,” Her fingers finally dip between your wet folds, perfectly rubbing your button of nerves. A moan leaves your mouth, your legs spreading to give her more access. 

“Feels s-so good, W-wanda,” You whimper, never feeling such great pleasure before. Your back arched against the cool sand, your arms still pinned to the sides of your head. Squeezing your eyes shut, you saw starts as the tight coil in your core began to form. 

“I can feel that you’re close, sweet heart,” Wanda mumbles darkly against your cheek. Your mind clouded with a lustful mist, your legs shaking as your orgasm came crashing down upon you just as the waves did the sand. A loud moan leaves your mouth, Wanda's name being cried out by the woman underneath her. 

Your breaths come out in soft pants, gulping in as much air as you can as your orgasm calms down. But Wanda is far from done. Her snakes uncoil from your wrists and she moves her lips down your body, her mouth meeting your dripping folds. You let out a whimper, your clit sensitive from her previous ministrations. “Relax, sweet girl…” She whispers, “I need to taste you,”

Her lips close on your engorged clit, swirling her tongue in just the right way to make you moan her name. She spreads open your pussy with one hand, her fingers prodding at your tight hole with the other, and you jolt in surprise at the sudden intrusion. Wanda's snakes are quick to calm you down, their heads rubbing against your thighs in gentle circles. 

“Such a good girl, taking my fingers so well,” Wanda says, two of her long fingers sliding into your soaking hole, a whimper leaving your mouth at the same time. “Keep making those cute little sounds, love,” She eggs you on and you give in to every command. 

Your moans are music to her ears, the frequent movement of her fingers pulling each mewl from your throat. A ‘pop’ is sounded as her lips suctioned off of your clit, but returning soon after.

Her fingers move faster, and her tongue moving around your clit pushes you over the edge, causing your second orgasm to flow through you. Your juices squirt out of your quivering hole, soaking Wanda’s face along with some of her snakes. 

“Oh… how beautiful, and delicious you taste, sweetheart.” Wanda smiles against your pussy, pressing her lips to the top of your mound softly and kissing up your body. Her lips wrap around one of your nipples, and your hand reaches to find her pussy. 

“Wanna feel you…” You say, rubbing your hand over her belly and lower, finally reaching her pussy as you push your hand under her dress. 

“By all means. You are mine and I am yours,” Wanda says, resuming the pleasure of your nipple. 

You feel her clit, rubbing her in slow circles at first. Slowly, your fingers move to her hole as well, gently easing into her and smiling as you hear a moan from her mouth. The vibrations from her throat send more pleasure through your nipples, pulling more moans from your own mouth. 

As you move your fingers in and out of her wet cunt, the palm of your hand rubs against her clit. You can feel her body shake, her breath quiver, and her breasts against your own body. All sensations you never thought you would love so dearly. 

Wanda is close, and she leans up from your nipples to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, her hole clenching around your fingers as she cums. You swallow her moans, your free hand coming up to cup her cheek as you return the kiss. 

“Wands,” You whisper, not moving away just yet. Gently, you slide your fingers from her pussy, bringing them to your mouth and seductively sucking her juices off of your digits. “Such a ravishing taste, my love,” 

Hearing those last two words made Wanda's stomach do backflips. Belonging to someone was all she wanted, and she wanted you to belong only to her. “Your love?” She asks, pulling away just to see your lips move. 

“My love, Wanda,” You confirm, smiling as you lean up to kiss her again. 

~~~~~~~

It is long past midnight, and Wanda has you in her arms, both of your naked bodies pressed against each other. With your head on her chest, you can hear her heartbeat, the soft thumping calming and lulling you to sleep. 

“Thank you for saving me, Wanda. I- I don’t know what how I can express to you how grateful I am,” 

That sparks an idea in Wanda’s head. You were a kind and loving soul, most likely willing to do anything to repay someone for their own kindness. So, she makes her plan fall right into place. 

“Stay with me? Live here with me and my sisters? We all can tend to you, help you navigate, and we can even go to the village just East of here. But stay, please?” Wanda asks you, her lips gently pressing against your head as you think. 

“I have no one back where I am from. They all shunned me because I couldn’t see. I can’t say no to such an amazing and thoughtful proposal as this,” You sit up, maneuvering your body to straddle her lap as she leans against the rock that was settled closer to the water. You nuzzle your face into the crook of her neck, Lucky gently laying her head on yours as well, and you close your eyes. “I would love to stay with you, only you. Forever.” 

[godbirdart]

Looking at your recent commissions, those backgrounds are soo pretty!! Do you have any tips for backgrounds? I always struggle with them :>

aAA many many thanks!!

backgrounds can absolutely be a struggle but they don't have to be! they just require a little more creative planning~!

whether it be a commission or a personal drawing, if I'm building an elaborate art piece i focus on establishing the background First.

the background is the stage for your character! planning the background first will make it easier to tailor the character's actions and how they interact with the environment around them.

planning the background first can be the difference between your character standing awkwardly front and center with the setting going on behind them, or actually participating in their environment.

if i'm super stumped for background ideas, i browse stock image sites to get inspiration. sometimes it helps to doodle on an image to generate some ideas - kinda like you're playing with JPEGs like dolls.

that said - while i'm pinpointing WHAT i want to draw, i keep the ideas loose. i don't want to focus on the itty-bitty details until i've got the overall aesthetic and layout in mind, as i might get inspired to add something in later!

THUMBNAILING

if you're planning a big piece it can be helpful to break it down into something bite-sized before you go all in and start lining or painting. these are "thumbnails" - fast little sketches that establish the scene in a way that doesn't consume a lot of time or effort. it's also great as a little perspective exercise as a treat.

here i decided i want to draw a character walking home in a back alley street. with these photo references in mind, i can plan a layout and how the character will act in the scene. is this a candid shot? are they posing cutely? are they looking down at us in a tense way? there are many ideas to be had!

after you've chosen the layout / vibe for your idea, you can scale up your thumbnail to your preferred canvas size and start fleshing out the details. be sure to keep referring to your reference images to get additional ideas, such as storefronts, items, props etc!

3D MODELS

If you're trying to create a unique environment that photo references simply cannot help you visualize, 3D models exist! This gives you that ability to rotate / scale things for better visualization. Clip Studio has a vast catalogue of 3D models to download For Free that you can fiddle around with. i know there are many 3D builder sites out there as well, though i've never made use of them so i'm afraid i cannot recommend any off the top of my head. hell, you can even use the Sims game to design a setting and go from there!

also if anyone is going to come into my house and say 3D models are cheating: they are not. using a 3D model to better grasp an angle or get a better idea for perspective is not cheating. using 3D models to help plan the environment in your art is not cheating. they are no different than brushes; these are tools made to HELP YOU. use them!

PERSPECTIVE

perspective and angles can make a HUGE difference in the art piece. there's nothing wrong with static long shots! if that's what you want to draw, do it!! there's no right and wrong here!

but if you're finding your work to be a little robotic and stiff, slap an angle in there. consider an overhead view. these same techniques are applied to photography and film! nothing wrong with wide shots, but every once in a while it can help to throw in a dutch angle.

if there is one note i'd like to leave off on, it's that your backgrounds do not have to be 100% accurate-to-life to be Good. unless realism is something you're really striving for in your style, don't feel compelled to nitpick every brick and leaf in your art. us artists can tend to over-prune our work until our art looks a little bare and soulless. flaws can give your work character, and that's often a lot more appealing than how accurate the scale ratio between background building A and building B are [again, unless you WANT to go for that realistic look then you can fuss over those details all you like].

i hope this helped a little! MY APOLOGIES FOR MAKING IT SO LONG AH

[finsterwalds]

Got a very inspired ask inquiring about the villains in my Better Call Saul french AU so here's Gus aka famous chef Gustavo Faure and his main waiter Léo haha. More info under the cut as always...

So at first I thought about making Gus a fast-food owner like his canon counterpart, but it just doesn't fit really well if you wanna frenchify it all with nuance. We have fast-foods ofc and we do enjoy fried chicken lol, but Los Pollos Hermanos has this very distinct "patriotic" feeling that wouldn't translate as well in France, as fast-foods are american in conception. I thought about making Gus the owner of some cheaper chain like Courtepaille lmao, but it feels too memey and doesn't have the prestige that his character has canonically. Gus assimilates perfectly into american society with his brand, and caters to the people locally, so I thought it would be fair for him to do the same in France. And if you wanna cater to lovers of chic, gastronomy and prestige, what's better than being the chef of some fancy restaurant, right? It felt cliché af and looses the "close to the people" part but it honestly fits his character well, imo...

He would be extremely respected locally but still friendly and approachable due to him crafting some kind of tragic backstory for himself and his restaurant. Basically he would play the "Chilean refugee that climbed to the top of foreign cuisine" card and everyone would buy it. French people love to eat and are fond of mixing their culture's meals with more international food, so yes: I think he would serve a fusion of french/Chilean food!

He'd also be an entrepreneur as famous french chefs often have side businesses like bakeries or published books, which I think respects his canon personality pretty well. Fancy french chefs also like to hang out outside their kitchen to greet their guests and I can totally imagine Gus do that. He'd still be able to conceal his shady side nicely. He's canonically seen to like fine wine, good products, and cooks Paila Marina for Walt, so congrats to Gus for already being french in conception and not making this idea feel like a stretch lol.

I have no idea about his exact role concerning drug traffic in Europe, as I said I'm pretty ignorant about that… But he'd use his business and image to form connections and launder his money. His backstory with Max stays the same in the AU aka Max was his business """"partner""" who died killed by the Salamancas.

I don't think changing his first name was necessary, but his last name sounding american I thought I would just frenchify it a bit lol. I don't know what the name of his restaurant would be, but definitely something short, spanish, and aesthetic/poetic. Maybe a reference to Max to allude to the Hermanos part.

Bonus : I know they don't canonically meet, but in my AU I think Chuck, as a rich lawyer, would eat at Gustavo's often. They'd be acquainted :) And maybe Jérôme aka Jimmy meets him thru his brother and later discovers Gus' shady side, when the events of BrBa start.

[lucysarah-c]

hey there, do u think Levi has scratchmarks and scars? and his uniform doesn’t show them of course but how does he feel about this? I’m thinking about Levi canon and no post war, like in the anime timeline. thank uuu

Hi, dear! What are you up to?

Scars, absolutely. I think he has a good number here and there. They may not be that noticeable because Levi is very pale, and usually, once scars get old, they lose hyperpigmentation and turn even whiter. But scars? Definitely.

Stretch marks… I’m not sure? Stretch marks usually come from quick body growth, causing the skin to stretch faster than it can keep up. It can also happen when the skin is compressed with no room to adjust. I’ve heard they can be genetic as well. In Levi's case, I don't think he grew particularly fast, haha. I had a friend who shot up from 1.60 to 1.80 meters in just a few months during adolescence, and he ended up with a bunch of stretch marks on his lower back because of how quickly he grew. My personal headcanon is that Erwin has them, because in one of the games (I believe), it’s mentioned that Erwin remembers when, as a cadet, his hands were too small to grip the reins and the stirrups at the same time. So I imagine he was probably on the short side and then hit a sudden growth spurt.

Which, of course, is not Levi’s case, haha. As for restrictive clothing… I’m not sure? Those pants look tight, but I don’t know how tight they could be without the development of elastic. Let’s not forget, elastics are made from plastics, which are derived from petroleum. I own a pair of vintage jeans, and they are rigid. They’re either a bit loose or you simply can’t put them on. I think maybe Levi could have stretch marks on the inner thighs, where the 3DMG harness presses against the skin during movement, causing tears. The skin in that area is more delicate, so if he has any stretch marks, that’s probably where.

Now, how does Levi feel about them? That’s simple—he doesn’t care, haha. I think Levi is one of those people whose only concern with his appearance is "looking clean." Beyond that? He couldn’t care less. To me, Levi is very confident in himself, but not in a self-centered or aesthetic way—more in a pragmatic sense. "This is the body I have, the result of a shitty childhood and everything I had to do to survive. Also, the outcome of my intense training to save as many soldiers as I can and kill as many titans as I can. Why would I care what people think of that?" "I have skin, I’m human. Skin is fragile, it gets marked when it’s damaged. End of story."

Hope that works, sweetie! Have a lovely day!

[nonetoon]

✨ Big Comic Recommendation List! ✨

I’ve been wanting to compile some of my favorite comics into one big list in no particular order for a while. Again, I just want to reiterate that I’m in no way any sort of comic critic and all of these are just books that I personally enjoy, and if they seem up your alley I hope you’ll enjoy them too!

I also want to state that these are definitely more adult oriented books and not for kids. A lot of these stories have pretty graphic violence and tackle more adult topics like sexual or physical assault, so I’ll also be putting content warnings for where it applies.

1. Afternoon at McBurger’s by Ana Galvañ

Afternoon at McBurger’s takes place in a bright, colorful future where a group of young girls finally have the opportunity to participate in the Once Party provided by McBurger’s, a fast food restaurant. The Once Party offers a fantastical opportunity for anyone who turns eleven years old: the chance to visit themselves in the future!

The limited color palette of pink, teal, and yellow make for a very nice aesthetic that lends itself to the strange, futuristic world you get just a glimpse into. For such a short story there is a lot to keep track of that makes rereading fun and I felt like I discovered something new every time I went through it again.

CW: physical abuse

2. No One Else by R. Kikuo Johnson

Another short one but is definitely one of the more impactful. No One Else is about a woman (a nurse and full time caretaker for her elderly father) and her brother (a musician who has a much more strained relationship with their father) trying to process the sudden, accidental death of their father while also looking after her son. A very honest, holds-no-punches look at family, abuse, and neglect as each character struggles to cope with this sudden situation they find themselves in.

The artwork is beautifully done and the use of blues with a splash of orange makes for a great visual impact. I’m a big fan of character driven stories, and this book provides an interesting and messy glimpse into these characters lives. Very down to earth, very honest, and nicely tied together.

CW: physical abuse

3. Birds of Maine by Michael DeForge

A fun and meandering story about a society of birds that migrated to the moon to form their own world, away from human involvement. Birds of Maine follows both a group of young birds trying to find their place in this giant, complex world as well as gives glimpses of the many different facets of bird society and how they function.

This comic gives a very funny, matter-of-fact look into the absurd world of birds! It’s overall a great read if you like world building, and it’s presented with beautiful line work, bright pops of color, and abstract shapes that make up the bustling world and characters. The story overall feels like a stroll: it generally follows along a specific story with certain characters, but isn’t afraid to wander off to other points of interest.

4. Coyote Doggirl by Lisa Hanawalt

Set in the wild west, Coyote Doggirl follows said character as she tries to escape a group of bandits after she kills their leader’s brother. Along the way she meets new allies and has to decide to confront the past she is trying desperately to get away from or keep on running. It’s a funny yet honest book set in the beauty of the desert.

The story and characters in Coyote Doggirl are both hilarious and crude, which makes the more serious and genuine moments even more impactful. The loose style of the watercolors throughout this comic perfectly match the beautiful colors of the desert landscape. This comic also has probably one of my favorite endings (which I’m not going to spoil here).

CW: nudity, sexual assault, graphic violence

5. Eight-Lane Runaways by Henry McCausland

Eight-Lane Runaways follows a group of runners participating in a marathon through a fantastical and lively world. Each have their own motivations and desires for entering the race, and we get to see how each resolves as the race goes on.

The quirky and oddball characters and their ever-changing, winding landscape go perfectly hand-in-hand. It’s always amusing when clearly bizarre fantasy worlds, characters, and events are treated very plainly within the story. The characters are simple but fun to follow along with, from a character who is a frog, to a character who follows the instructions of a magical coat, to a character simply looking for two missing cats. Along with the beautifully done artwork and sprawling pages of landscapes, it feels as though you are only getting the smallest look into this big, wild world you want to learn more about.

6. The Book Tour by Andi Watson

The Book Tour follows a rather unlucky new author as, not only is his debut book not selling well, but a string of murders is following his exact tour route, leaving all signs pointing at him as the culprit.

It’s a very dry but still incredibly entertaining and suspenseful story. It’s hilarious, quaint, and baffling to watch the poor man get hit with bad luck after bad luck, only for him to be very proper, if not completely lost, about the whole ordeal. There are also many moving parts and details going on in the background that make for a great murder mystery story, definitely deserving of a reread to connect all the pieces that might have been missed on the first read through (I know I definitely did).

7. Heaven No Hell by Michael DeForge

A collection of 17 amazing short stories looking at a variety of characters and concepts. Everything from a woman pretending to be a surgeon, a karaoke party, a family killed in a car crash, and the creation of a hypothetical child.

My favorite stories of the bunch are “One Of My Students Is A Murderer… But Which?”, “Surprise Party”, “Album”, “Road Trip”, and “Soap Opera.” All of the stories in this comic are perfectly bite-sized looks into a variety of interesting visuals and concepts that keep you engaged from segment to segment.

CW: mild nudity

8. Flavor Girls by Loïc Locatelli-Kournwsky and Angel De Santiago

In Flavor Girls, a mysterious alien ship appears in Earth’s orbit, and its passengers cause death and destruction for life on earth. Luckily, a group of women dubbed “Flavor Girls” by their fans are gifted magical, fruit themed powers that aid them in fighting off the alien army. The newest, unexpected member of the group, however, is having trouble catching up.

By far one of the most visually stunning comics I have ever read. Very, very reminiscent of Sailor Moon in its characters, aesthetic, and story. This comic has some of my favorite character designs, the alien designs in particular are extremely fun to look at. Unlike the other comics on this list, it is not a complete story but at least it gives you something to look forward to!

CW: mild graphic violence

9. Beautiful Darkness by Fabien Vehlmann and Kerascoët

Last but absolutely not least, Beautiful Darkness is a surprisingly horrifying and violent story about cute and fun looking fairy-like characters trying to survive out in the woods. The less you know going in to this comic, the better.

The incredible beauty and meticulous detail of the environment in this comic lends itself well as a stark contrast to the horrific deaths littered throughout this story. It is bizarre watching how unfeeling and unbothered these cutesy fairytale creatures are with their friends dropping around them like flies, but it’s impossible to look away. Seeing how all of it shapes and warps the genuinely kind main character, Aurora, and the darker implications going on in the background make this a must read. By far one of the best openings to any comic I have ever read.

CW: gore, body horror

(That’s all I have for now! Hope to recommend more in the future ✌️)

[kittysarchive]

you blog aesthetics is so pretty!!!! I LOVE IT.

can you write it when enhypen members finds out your fan fix blog and makes it a reality

Ahh I'm glad you like my theme :) this can be read as any member

warnings- smut, fem reader, sub reader, embarrassment, mean dom? slight begging kink, choking, cream pie

"Hey.... Y/N?" Your head perks up, walking towards the voice.

"Yeah?" You question, peeking over your boyfriend's head. Fuck. He found your blog. Littered with smut and stories, most being actual things he has done with you.

You gulp, not sure of where this was going.

"It was left open on your computer..." A blush spreads across your cheeks. He knows you red it, does he know you wrote it as well?

"I...." Trying to find an excuse, anything.

"You've been reading all the things I could do to you. Why didn't you just ask me?" He smirks, you face heats up again. You knew where this was going.

"I thought... you might think it was weird" He scoffs at your answer, standing up from the chair, he hovers over your frame.

"If you wanted me to treat you like a slut you could have just asked" Smirking again, he knew you wanted. Meekly, you nod your head. Taking you hand, he leads you too the kicthen.

"Always wanted to fuck you here" He hums, unzipping his fly. Hands shaking with excitement as you stripped you only clothes.

"But what I find funny" He started, "Is that you were the one who wrote it all" Feeling your body pulse, you really wanted him know. You couldn't delete the blog later, or at least fake it. Right now, you needed him.

Moving on, his jeans and boxers collect at his ankles. Hard cock springing out and slapping his chest, all full and red to take you, to fuck you hard just like you wrote. Jumping up onto the kitchen counter, you sit close to the edge.

"Good girl" He praises you, opening your legs. almost drooling at the sight of your wet pussy, glistening in the light.

"Your wet already? Dirty girl" Taking his time, his hands glide over your thighs, getting closer and closer to your heat.

"Just fuck me already" You breath out, not able to take this torture any longer. Looking up, he smirks.

"If that's what you want" Pulling you close, almost of the counter, he aligns himself with your entrance. Shoving in his hard member into your wet pussy.

"You like it huh, me being rough with you?" You nod your head, biting your lip to conceal your moans.

"Feels so good" You whine out, releasing the compressed moans, spreading your legs further out he pistons into you. Hard and fast, not deep.

His cock moving fast, barely going through your pussy leaves you panting, the sheer strength and energy he had to force himself at a fast speed, to hold your body still.

"What else did you write about me?" He asked, loosing breath as he pace finally slowed down. You struggle to answer him.

"C-choking me" He cocks an eyebrow, not expecting that as an answer. Yet in the heat of the moment, he slides your body of the counter. Cock pressed against your stomach; your body is roughly pushed against the pantry draw. Leg lifted over his hips, his cock in deep.

"Never knew you were this dirty" Finally he brings a hand to your neck, gripping it as his cock slides in and out of your sore pussy. Nodding your head, you can't make any words, only pathetic whines and moans, begging for more.

"Harder?" He teases, gripping your neck harder. Seeing stars, you clench hard around his cock. Laughing at how you reacted. Pace slowing down as he was reaching his high, his tone changes.

"You should have told me this before" In almost a whiny voice, his hips roll up again. Finding all types of friction, finding ways to feel your pussy more before he painted it with his seed. Letting go of your neck, you cry out.

"Can't hold any longer" You gasp out, eyes wide as you fight back the wave of pleasure. Giving you no answer, you release the weight. Moaning loudly, you cream all over his cock, body tingling, you don't notice him filling you up.

Creaming at the base of his cock, his thrusts slow down. Having filled you to brim, his own cum mixes with his own at his base.

"T-thankyou" You quickly say, holding onto him for support, you felt so sore.

[kaiasky]

ok so here is my best understanding of weed from someone who has never smoked it, except for that one time i smoked it.

weed is apparently a flower not a leaf. the other bits have thc but people are wusses and don't smonk them. EXTREMELY silly since the cannabis leaf shape is so iconic. (the only parallel that even comes close is that the aminita muscaria is the icon of psychedelics despite not being a psyllocybin mushroom.)

i think like only one sex of plant has flowers that are worth smonking and it's a big thing to ensure all your seeds are female.

for some reason chewing it raw doesn't get you high you need to heat it up? (which i learned because i was worried that if i could smell unburnt weed in storage i was getting a contact high)

in general i feel that weed fans are maybe a bit of pussies like idk, simply smoke 3x the weed if it has 3x lower concentration, idgi? skissue.

People have strong opinions on how to get their weed but it seems like generally: in illegal places you talk to the most annoying person you know, and in legal places you go into an app store and place an order on an iPad and if you go to the front desk they say they can't help you, place an order on the ipad. or you order it online with various promises about how fast it'll get there and how little you need to interact with another human being.

there is an item known as a grinder which seems terribly designed and intended to spill as much cannabis on the ground as possible. why does this item look like a petri dish and not have an inbuilt funnel or something? i do not know.

the grinders job is to turn weed, which started life as loose ground up buds and was compacted into brussel sprouts of slightly more compressed ground up buds, into loose ground up buds, so it can be recompacted into slightly more compressed ground up buds in a weed cigarette bunt

the airflow of a joint is a mystery to me because my mental model of it is just you take the rolling paper and roll it up, lick it to seal it shut, and then twist the ends shut like a tootsie roll. which would block you from being able to suck the air in, no? my best guess is it's not entirely airtight and you just draw breath through the paper.

similarly, once you light it i don't understand what prevents the weed from spilling out the open end. if you blew on a joint would it spray everyone with smouldering weed?

i think most joints are unfiltered because idk. in general ig my perception is that cigarette users prize the aesthetics of a manufactured and standardized product while weed users prize the aesthetics of handrolling as a craft.

theres some substance called resin that makes it more thc-y. presumably it's just you blend up the rest of the plant and distill it?

blunts are either cigars with weed in them (do they still have a tobacco leaf as the wrap??) or just a big joint I'm not sure.

you can also, if you're normal, use a pipe or a bubbler or bong. this is very sensible and i understand how these work.

i don't understand why the weed pipe is that particular form and not like a tobacco pipe. or like why are the tobacco pipe, crack pipe, and weed pipe all different??

If you're a wuss, you can eat a gummy, either the thc kind that does something or the cbd kind that does nothing. you eat this and "nothing happens" and you have 4 more and then you explode, and apparently this happens to everybody. skissue.

the primary effect of weed is that you feel uncomfortable and want to eat food except ur mouth feels bad when it eats food. secondarily time goes slower (which, by the time-flies principle, implies you're not having fun?)

theres sativa which is if you want to have a fun joyous intriguing time, and indica which is boring. People make a lot of this difference and it's always like "there's two types of cowstuff, prime rib and literal cowpies"

if you smoke weed you get a tolerance and if you stop smoking you get less tolerance. so theres a ritual of taking a break to reset the tolerance. i find this oddly charming.

[the-kr8tor]

Thread the needle

Thread the Needle Masterlist

Prologue >>> Chapter 1

God, you're so late for class. Your white sneakers squeak against the linoleum floor, feet running as fast as you can. Your hastily thrown backpack struggles to cling on to your arm. You regret going out last night, on a school night too.

Almost running past the classroom, your feet skid to a stop in front of the door. Taking a breather you take a second to fix your appearance, fixing your backpack properly, breathing out a puff of air, you mentally ready for the weird stares thrown your way once you open the door.

You open the door with a loud creek from the old hinges, cursing the metal for the loud intrusion. Grimacing from the sound, your eyes roam around the room, surprised to see that the professor's late too. You sigh in relief, sitting down in your station, you decide to clean up the mess that you left yesterday in haste.

While picking up loose threads, misshapen cloths and cluttered tools littered around your space, you accidentally listen in on a conversation.

"Did you hear? About our last project?"

"Yeah, I have a friend from the other class, heard it's a doozy. Can't believe Mrs. Williams' making it forty percent of our final grade "

Unbelievable, you thought. And here you go thinking that taking fashion as your major was gonna be easy. You sigh, pondering what kind of next stress is gonna befall you.

Suddenly the door opens with a loud creaking sound– your ever fashionable professor saunters in, clad in her stiletto heels, posture perfect and neck always covered in pearls. God, you want to be her when you grow up.

She stands tall in front of the whiteboard.

"Since this is your last two months here, I'm gonna make this last project the biggest and hardest one you've ever done," she doesn't beat around the bush, going straight to the point, speaking in her posh accent, making elegant gestures as she talks, "This final project will be sixty percent of your final grade, therefore if you fail this you might not graduate this year"

Various sounds of protests can be heard around the room, some groaning in pain, others straight up scream in anguish, but you just look at Mrs. Williams like she grew a second head.

Sixty percent?! This close to graduation? Does she not want anybody to graduate? You think, biting your tongue just in case it slips out.

"You've gotta be joking Mrs. W!" A classmate of yours shares your sentiment.

"Do I look like I'm someone who makes jokes, Flash?" The professor raises a neat eyebrow, side eyeing your classmate.

Fuckety, fuck fuck. You internally swear. This is so much worse than forty percent. Outside you might look calm but inside you feel like spontaneously combusting right there on your chair.

Mrs. Williams stares at her class silently. The entire room feeling the dark aura she exudes, they all clam up immediately.

"The project - find someone, I do not care if you're already close, or you're strangers to each other. Just someone who's willing to model for you-"

"For the record everyone, I'm available" Flash interrupts the professor, with one look from her, he sits back down defeated and embarrassed.

"This project requires you to make an outfit," she continues, staring daggers at your classmate "not just any other piece you have ever made. You have to cooperate with your model, in creating it."

That's easy enough you thought, you've already worked with models before, like changing some aspects of the clothing to match their sizes, and changing some designs if they're not comfortable wearing it.

Mrs. Williams raises her index finger, "This outfit, it has to encompass the both of you, so it's a requirement, a necessity, to pick a model that has an entirely different style from you"

Different style? Your mind goes to him immediately, with his heavy leather boots, spiked accessories, and overall Punk aesthetic, compared to your fluffy cardigans, sneakers and plain button ups. He's perfect for this project. The only problem is how in the world are you gonna convince THE Hobie Brown, your best friend of ten years, to model in front of the entire graduating class.

Mrs. Williams' voice brings you back to the present. "They, whoever you pick, must be willing to fully participate in making, and modeling it. They don't even have to be a student here, all that matters is that the final product must be a perfect blend of both yours and their style"

Flash raises his hand this time "How would you know that they have a different style from us?"

"Next meeting you must bring them, and" she emphasizes the last word "a picture of them with a timestamp from a year or two ago, this prevents cheating. And if I ever find out that you edited the photo's timestamp, don't even think about graduating"

"Um, ma'am, when are we presenting it?" A brave classmate of yours raises their hand.

"You have a month to work on it, the show will be three weeks before graduation, if you'll even be qualified for it"

You swallow down your anxiety at her last comment. Bringing Hobie in class will be a bitch and a half itself. You're already thinking about how to convince him.

"And remember this project fosters teamwork and cooperation with each other. Do not forget it has to be a perfect blend, not some smorgasbord of an outfit." The professor adds.

Great, now armed with the great task of convincing Hobie, you think, if he still owes you a favour, maybe you can call it in for this.

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Pt.6

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist       Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little

~

Y/n🍦:

SO basically-

I was in my office when we got attacked,

My whole department started freaking out and running around.

Some dumbasses were even taking the elevators-

*You remember the moment so clearly. There were no big sounds or warnings, one second you were working your boring low-end job, and the next the woman in the cubicle next to you is screaming and pointing outside. Hoards of god knows what the fuck those things were began flying out and it’s like the world froze for a moment. A single moment of paralyzed silence.

And then all hell broke loose.

Some coworkers began hurriedly grabbing their bags, others just booked it straight to the nearest exit. You were on the fourth floor of the building. 

You were impressed with how fast this new group of enhanced individuals showed up but it was no match for the amount of fucking aliens spewing out of a goddamn space hole. One of your coworkers roughly grabbed your shoulder and began pulling you with them towards the stairs. You hadn’t even noticed you’d been stuck unmoving in front of the big glass windows until that moment. 

Your body finally caught up with the terror of what was happening and you began running down the crowded stairs as fast as you could- faster than you felt you’d ever run before.

No- the fastest you’d ever run was when the cops crashed the one college party your roommates had convinced you to go to. The smell of beer and vomit was burning your nose the whole time and you were almost relieved when you heard the sirens- only you weren’t too keen on getting arrested. Your 21st birthday was still two months away.

You supposed you would be running faster now if the sea of bodies wasn’t in your way. Frantic business women and men prevented you from going down the stairs more than two at a time. You contemplated just hopping the railing and falling the last two flights but no- if you sprained your ankles you couldn’t run away from the monsters.

That was when the first blast hit.

The whole building rumbled and screams emitted from both inside and out of the building. You knew it wasn’t your building that was hit- but the building next to you was too close to not do some damage. 

You almost wanted to laugh at the absurdity of the moment. This had to be some kind of crazy dream that was a result of those new melatonin gummies you were taking.

But when some random panicked escapee ran pasted you just a little too fast and you banged your head into the wall you knew it wasn’t a dream.

Shit, you probably had a concussion was the only thing you could think as you glared at the back of the fleeing man. If you ever got out of this apocalyptic ass shit you would get revenge on that random white guy in a black suit. Yeah fuck you were never gonna find out who that guy was. If you even made it out of here.

You shook the thought out of your head, a bad idea considering you were already dizzy and disoriented. 

Finally, though, you made it outside, and fuck if it wasn’t worse than it was when you last saw it upstairs.

Fire smoke was sprouting from nearly every building, car alarms and building alarms were blaring so loud you had to cover your ears. God the apocalypse was so not as aesthetic as all the tv shows made it look.

You watched as people screamed and ran in all directions, watched explosions erupt in the sky and an iron man zip past alien ships, and shit was that fucking Thunder!?

Rubble from an explosion nearby flew down towards you and you covered your head. God was this how you were going to die? You stared down at your hands, clean- if not a little calloused from working. Your gaze drifted towards the ground- the granite completely split in most places, ash and concrete littering the streets.

Your eyes were unfocused, and a ringing sound had begun to form in your ears, only occasionally disturbed by someone trying and failing to get a call to go through. Of course, there would be no cell service, you hadn’t even thought of that. You heard the sounds of screams get almost impossibly louder and when you lifted your head you knew why. For whatever beautiful reason, the universe decided a giant ass space worm was exactly what needed to come out of that portal right now. Everybody say “Thank You Universe!”

Your feet were running before your brain could tell them to. Your car, your mind screamed. You’ve got to get to your car.

You made it to your car, luckily still intact, and thank fuck you had your keys in your back pocket because if you didn’t you might have started crying. You touched your hand to your face.

 Oh. 

You already were.

You didn’t have time to dwell on it. You hopped into your car and began fumbling with the keys. Who made it so impossible to put your keys in the ignition when you were panicked and concussed?

It didn’t matter though, because two seconds later a giant ass alien landed directly on your hood. The damage looked deep enough to have crushed your engine. You briefly wondered if your insurance covered alien attacks.

Ugly rat alien decided to stab a spear through your windshield directly into your passenger seat and wow was that a threat or did these aliens have the aim of stormtroopers?

You were already beginning to process your death when five rounds of shots rang out and the beast on top of your car fell flat. Frankly, it was disgusting, and now its weird slimy pigskin body was closer to you than ever.You opened your car door coughing and that’s when you saw her. She glanced at the alien to ensure its death and then began surveying the nearby area, a few people paying her no mind and running right past her.

Good choice, you thought. She looked deadly. Deadly in the most gorgeous way that a woman could look deadly. The kind of look that made you want to become a supervillain just so she could glare at you and point a gun at your head.

It was completely unfair how good she looked considering the circumstances, and not only was she running on the battlefield she seemed to be taking part in it as well. 

Your moment of love at first save was quickly broken, however, as the woman presses a finger to her ear and mumbles a few words before running in the other direction. 

Your thoughts of her are interrupted by chunks of debris falling onto your car, you quickly jumped out of the way but- yeah there was no way insurance was covering that damage.*

You tastefully left out a few of those last thoughts when texting this story to Nat, she didn’t need to think you were a complete weirdo. Only a little one. 

                   Nat🔪:

Y/n🍦:

Yeah so I was close to death

on multiple accounts that night

#almostdiedthreetimes

You watched as the chat bubbles appeared and disappeared numerous times. You remember rendering your therapist speechless when you first told her as well. Although now they had an influx in patients and you were sure even the therapists were seeing therapists at this point. Therapist-seption.

Nat🔪:

So when you said you met an Avenger…

You rolled your eyes. Of course, someone who wears gray to bed would be analytical of your word choices.

Y/n🍦: 

Hey I was one of the first people to ever see

The famous Black Widow in action!

#Ilikedherbeforeitwascool

Nat🔪:

Alright enough with the hashtags.

And they were called the Chitauri 

By the way

Y/n🍦:

Chitauri- Rat alien

Battle of New York- Most traumatizing 

night of my life, literal hell on earth oh my god

Tomato- TomAto

Call ‘em what you want Nat.

You think the specifics matter in that situation?

Cause I sure as hell wasn’t thinking about

Being speciesist while I was running for my life🤠

Nat🔪:

Solid point.

So did insurance ever cover your car?

Y/n🍦:

Fuck no Nat.

This is corporate America

I got a copy-pasted apology email and a very

small amount of compensation money from

The state.

We Love America😍 🦅🇱🇷

Nat🔪:

That’s not an American flag…

Y/n🍦:

Fuck.

Pt7

Just so ya know this- 🇺🇸 is the American flag and this- 🇱🇷 is the Liberian flag!

Anyway, did we enjoy the trauma I wrote? ~Starry

------

Taglist

@romanoffsgal  @natsxwife  @la-douleur-ne-finit-jamais @moistblobfish 

[aego-weaver]

AAAAAA - An Identity Update

So, there's over 50 of you people following me now. I'm sure at least one of you will care about this.

It feels like I've been running this blog forever now... it's been 4 months. In those 4 months, I've learned a few things about myself, just hanging out in the community here.

When I made this blog, I called myself an aroace, aegosexual, cassgender guy. All of that is still true, but with some expanding in order. So, this is an identity update post.

Some of these have been mentioned in posts on this blog before while others are brand new things I've finally admitted to myself.

Aplatonic

When I made this blog, I'd never heard the term aplatonic before. Once I did, it stuck to me hard and fast. Honestly, this label and the community around it helped me understand myself a lot.

Agender... ish

As I said in my essay about it, my experience with gender is very loose and defined by a lot of apathy. The more I think about it, the less it's there. I'm not fully agender, but I'm on that spectrum somewhere, specifically libramasculine.

Oriented AroAce

While I'm aroace, I do still experience some forms of tertiary attraction, mainly aesthetic attraction. In that regard, I'm attracted to anything feminine enough. That can be girls, some enbys, and even the occasional femboy or the like. Don't ask me to define that more precisely, cuz it's a mess.

Autistic + ADHD

So, this isn't so much discovered as rediscovered. I was formally diagnosed roughly 20 years ago and mostly forgot about both until I started researching the conditions for my writing. That sparked some memories that a conversation with my sibling proved weren't made up, so I'm actually adopting the labels now.

Conclusion

In summary, when I started this blog, I was a AA battery. Now, I have attained true power: AAAAAA!

[embracedfire]

Hey!!!!!:D

Please do tell me more about your headcanons, regarding SCU Slime:)

YIPPEE

These are most of my headcanons for council!Slime atm but I'll probably have more in the future ^-^

Feel free to ask questions about them and lmk if this gave any other headcanon ideas!! :D

CHARLIE SLIMECICLE

GOD OF THE HARVEST/FOOD, ENCHANTMENT, CRAFTING AND SMELTING

- He/they/it

- Ace (100 days is aroace)

- loosely based on Greek/Roman mythology

- Holy imagery: violets, sickles, wheat, three hearts

- Due to him being part slime, Charlie is able to live for a very long time. (Inspired by c!Slime)

- He's eons older than Grizzly and Bizly, but Condi has been here probably before time even existed. He meets Condi one day and they become fast friends. Later on, the two meet Grizzly and then shortly after the natural disasters video they meet Bizly.

- he has little slimer buddies all over that share things like information or gifts with him! (kinda how I hc the crows work for Mumza)

- Possible moth-like wings? Maybe bug? (He doesn't actually use them to fly, just to fit in a little better with the others bc they all have wings) One wing looks torn due to the sheer amount of things that have tried to kill all of them OR for the aesthetic ✨️

- enchanted himself on accident to be almost physically impossible to damage (NOT MY IDEA BUT I SAW THAT SOMEONE ELSE THOUGHT OF IT SOMEWHERE AND THOUGHT IT WAS COOL I HAVE NO MEMORY OF WHO THAT WAS SORRY), now he has a ring of the enchantment language on his left forearm that translates to "Unbreaking X"

- able to make mortals into gods, however this is very draining and takes a lot of time and effort. Charlie will take naps afterwards if the mortal hasn't been a god previously :)

- he likes playing the violin (he was gifted one from Grizzly that's made from a red-ish wood that has plant-like designs on it :]) (OMG WHAT IF HE PLAYED MUSIC FOR GRIZZLY AT HIS GRAVE SOMETIMES AWWE THATS SO SAD)

[opullenza]

[  lily - rose depp,  cis - woman,  she / her,  n/a,  n/a  ] welcome  to  excesstv,  DAPHNE  NOELLE  HART  —  or  should  i  say  the  fallen angel?  …  a  quick  google  search  tells  me  you’re  a  TWENTY  FIVE  year  old  TECH  HEIRESS  who’s worth 3B.  you've  called  avalon  home  for  EIGHT  YEARS,  however  something  tells  me  there’s  more  to  you  than  a  flashy  resume  and  penthouse  13C  on  your  door  ?  it  seems  you’ve  managed  to  earn  a  reputation  around  the   city   for  being  GUARDED,  yet,  upon  further  investigation  it  seems  you're  also  quite  CHARMING.  but  hey,  thats  the  kind  of  mix  that  keeps  people  guessing.  i'm  sure  as  a  LEO  you're  used  to  people  commenting  on  your  VINTAGE  DIOR  WHITE  SILK  OPERA  GLOVES  /  WILTING  PEONIES  IN  A  CRYSTAL  VASE  ;  THE  SOFT  TICKING  OF  A  GRANDFATHER  CLOCK  ;  A  MINK  COAT  THROWN  CARELESSLY  ON  A  VELVET  CHAISE  LOUNGE  ;  NUDE  LIPSTICK  STAINED  CHAMPAGNE  FLUTES  &  CROSSING  YOUR  FINGERS  BEHIND  YOUR  BACK.  but  still  we  can't  wait  to  watch  you  flourish  (  or  fail  )  these  next  few  weeks  … 

s t a t i s t i c s .

BASICS:

FULL NAME:  daphne noelle hart.

NICKNAMES:  n/a.

GENDER:  cis female.

PRONOUNS:  she/her.

SEXUALITY:  pansexual.

AESTHETICS: wilting peonies in a crystal vase ; the soft ticking of a grandfather clock ; a mink coat thrown carelessly on a velvet chaise lounge ; nude lipstick stained champagne flutes ; crossing your fingers behind your back ; cigarette smoke lingering in dim lit hallways ; silk scarves discarded unceremoniously on marble floors ; shadows cast by candlelight ; the quiet click of a lock opening.

AGE:  twenty five.

DATE OF BIRTH:  august 11th, 1999.

ZODIAC SIGN:  leo sun, scorpio moon, gemini rising.

OCCUPATION:  tech heiress.

APPEARANCE:

FACECLAIM:  lily-rose depp.

VOICE CLAIM:  lily-rose depp.

HEIGHT:  5'3".

BUILD:  slim.

HAIR: a little longer than shoulder length, golden blonde, often in loose curls.

PIERCINGS & TATTOOS:  click here for pinterest board.

OTHER DISTINGUISHING FEATURES:  striking eyes, defined cheekbones, refined posture, subtle makeup.

STYLE: click for pinterest board.

PERSONALITY:

TRAITS: +charismatic, resilient, ambitious, clever, independent, resourceful. -manipulative, guarded, impulsive, self-destructive, vindictive, possessive.

LIKES:  shopping sprees, fine dining, lifestyle photography, collecting vintage jewelry, traveling, high end liquor, art galleries, yachting.

DISLIKES:  being ignored, predictability, being told no, physical labor, cheap perfume, artificial flowers, fast food, country music, nosy questions, cats.

FEARS:  large bodies of water, aging, insects, public humiliation.

PHOBIAS:  thalassophobia: fear of large bodies of water.

HOBBIES:  lifestyle photography, mixology, antique collecting, skincare, nail art.

PET PEEVES:  being late, loud eating, touching her things w/o permission, interruptions, poor grammar.

FAVORITES:

ICE CREAM FLAVOUR:  salted caramel.

TIME OF THE DAY / NIGHT:  twilight.

WEATHER:  softly snowing overcast days.

BREAKFAST FOOD:  avocado toast with poached eggs.

DINNER FOOD:  seafood risotto.

DESSERT: creme brulee.

COLOURS:  emerald green, deep burgundy & champagne gold.

ITEM:  vintage diamond choker, given to her by her late mother.

COFFEE ORDER: lavender honey cappuccino.

PERFUME: amouage interlude woman.

b i o g r a p h y .

death of a loved one tw, drug addiction tw.

daphne noelle hart was born and raised in the heart of manhattan, new york, the only daughter of david hart, the sole heir to hartmed technologies, a cutting-edge medical tech company that revolutionized healthcare solutions. her mother, claire hart (née deroucher), was a prominent socialite known for her philanthropic endeavors and keen eye for fashion. while her father was thrilled to have children, claire struggled with a severe bout of postpartum depression after daphne's birth, which put a strain on their relationship. despite this, daphne grew up with a wonderful nanny whom she adored, providing her with the care and affection she craved in her early years. from the very beginning, daphne was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, surrounded by luxury and excess, where her every desire was catered to, and she never wanted for a single thing.

daphne attended the most elite private schools in manhattan, quickly establishing herself as a popular figure—at least as popular as one can be in elementary school. her mother, claire, finally began to emerge from the shadows of her severe depression, becoming more active in daphne's life after years of keeping her at arm's length. claire enrolled daphne in beauty pageants, where she thrived and continued to compete well into her teens. however, as daphne grew older and her peers recognized the immense wealth and influence of the hart family, it became increasingly difficult for her to discern between genuine friends and those drawn to her status, often leading to heartache. despite the social turmoil, daphne excelled academically in most areas, particularly in math and science, showcasing her intelligence much like her father.

once daphne entered middle school, her life took a dark turn. after a horrific car accident claimed her mother's life and left both her and her father battered and bruised, daphne fell into a deep depression. coming from a family of immense wealth and influence, she quickly gravitated toward the wrong crowd of older rich kids, seeking solace in their reckless behavior. at just 12 years old, she began to experiment with drugs and alcohol, attempting to fill the emotional void her mother's death had left behind. though she dabbled in substances, it wasn't until her junior year of high school that she fell into the clutches of addiction, using cocaine as a crutch to navigate the myriad problems in her life. during her senior year, she began to party very publicly, quickly establishing a reputation for herself. remarkably, despite the constant presence of paparazzi following her every move, she managed to keep her drug addiction hidden from the public eye, maintaining the mask of the perfect socialite.

after high school, daphne could have attended just about any college in the country—and several in europe—due to her extremely high gpa and impressive test scores. however, at this point in her life, she was unsure about what direction to take, beyond the drugs and alcohol she was using to numb her pain. having always loved taking pictures, whether they were mirror selfies or snapshots of her life around her, she ultimately decided to enroll in nyu's photography program. her natural knack for the craft quickly became apparent, and with the aid of prescription adderall, daphne was able to achieve great grades in college, much like she had in high school. despite being in the midst of her addiction, she managed to make it through four years of college, all while keeping up this... facade she had created.

after college, things became pretty scary for daphne. without structure in her life, she quickly lost control of just about everything around her, and her addiction escalated significantly. her few good friends began to notice that she was doing too many bumps in the bathroom at the club and brought this to her father's attention. finally, at 24, after years of addiction, her family and friends held a very private intervention. while the intervention remained private, once she agreed to go into treatment, the world went wild with the news that hartmed's perfect little heir truly had a problem. everything seemed to click for the public, who realized that her partying wasn't normal. daphne completed a program out in california, far away from her luxury penthouse in new york city.

after treatment, daphne returned to her home at the avalon. for a while, she was sober, but she quickly relapsed, managing to hide it well this time. she began to rebuild her reputation from that of an addict back to her previous status as a high-profile heiress in manhattan, even though behind the scenes she was once again struggling with cocaine use. one of the ways she decided to regain her reputation was by being cast in season one of excesstv. while she knows she needs to do this to restore her social status, she’s acutely aware that it will be increasingly difficult to conceal her addiction with cameras following her every move.

h e a d c a n o n ' s .

growing up in a high-pressure environment, she feels the need to appear flawless at all times. this extends to her appearance, social media presence, and even her work, leading to bouts of anxiety when she feels she’s not measuring up.

despite her glamorous lifestyle, daphne has a love for fantasy novels, anime, and graphic novels. she often escapes into these worlds when her reality feels overwhelming.

while she has a passion for photography, daphne is also a surprisingly good cook. she enjoys hosting intimate dinners for her close friends, using these gatherings as a way to maintain connections while hiding her struggles.

she starts her day with a meticulous morning routine that includes skincare, meditation, and an elaborate breakfast. this helps her maintain a façade of normalcy, even if her nights often end in chaos.

despite her glamorous lifestyle, she has a soft spot for classic rock music and often plays it loudly in her penthouse while getting ready for parties, singing along to her favorite songs as a way to hype herself up.

daphne has a collection of vintage cameras that she keeps on display in her living room, a nod to her photography studies. she enjoys taking candid photos of her friends and life in high society but never shares the images, preferring to keep them as personal memories.

she has a complicated relationship with trust, stemming from her experiences with superficial friendships. daphne often tests her friends by sharing small secrets to see who keeps them, leading to a cycle of isolation despite her desire for connection.

while she presents a polished image, daphne often journals in private to process her feelings about her addiction, her mother's death, and her struggles with self-worth. these journals are filled with confessions, drawings, and even poetry, which she hides from everyone.

daphne is a night owl, often staying up late to work on her photography or scroll through social media.

daphne has a love-hate relationship with social media. while she relies on it to maintain her public persona, she feels immense pressure to present a perfect life, leading to anxiety and moments of self-doubt when she compares herself to others.

daphne always wears vintage white silk dior opera gloves as a tribute to her mother, who wore them during her last public appearance at a gala. the gloves symbolize the elegance and poise daphne longs to embody, serving as a connection to her mother’s legacy and a reminder of the love she once felt.

[thatrandomartistjavi]

Why you should watch “What’s a Nice Kid Like You Doing in a Place Like This” or “The New Alice in Wonderland”

This my third favorite Alice so I need to have more people watch it

So here are some reasons you should watch it

It’s made by Hanna Barbera

The music is really good

It’s around 50 minutes so it is short

Sammy Davis Jr. is the Cheshire Cat and he’s REALLY good

Fred and Barney make an appearance as the Caterpillar(yes I’m being serious)

It is very silly

Super colorful. Very 60s in aesthetic

The character designs are super cute

Have I said that the music is really good and fun to listen to

Reason why you maybe wouldn’t like it:

It’s a little fast and loose with its source material. So it is NOT a word for word retelling and some characters aren’t like how they are in the book at all(mainly Rabbit). This doesn’t bother me as I do like the characterization of all the characters and think the changes are fun but I know some people wouldn’t like it

Where do I watch this?

[astralisbelle]

Dead Man's Hand 11 - Such Pretty Eyes

Dead Man's Hand Masterlist tags: engineer!reader, gambler!reader, loose canon timeline, eventual smut, fluff, action, casino aesthetics, touch starved reader, touch starved din, reader and din get on each other’s nerves, also they’re idiots, defrosting ice king din, cinderella vibes, everybody loves grogu

chapter summary: He has to find her soon, otherwise, he won't know what they'll do. warnings: show-typical violence

At first, everything is numb and quiet. Then she regains feeling in her toes and fingers, both sets feeling like icicles. Her neck throbs like it does when she sleeps wrong and it has no support. She tastes her dry tongue and tries to move her arms, but her wrists are stuck together.

Her cheek presses against the ground and her brows crinkle as she regains herself. With a soft groan, she rolls onto her back, made all the more uncomfortable when she realizes she can’t move her arms out of the way.

Din!

Her eyes fly open and she sits up, panting. The first thing she notices are the soldiers clad in white armor, their dark visors all turning towards her. For the first time in years, she is face to face with a squad of Stormtroopers. A horrified gasp leaves her breathless and when she tries to pull with her hands, she feels the cold metal around her wrists. They’ve stripped her of her shoes and accessories, just to add insult to injury.

“You’re awake.” She whips her head around and sees Bras sitting at the table, flanked by two Stormtroopers. He cuts a piece of well-grilled fish with his utensils, continuing his dinner without an ounce of remorse. Behind him, against the metal wall, is a sprawling banner of the Empire’s symbol, albeit with burns and holes. Her eyes survey the room, noticing no windows, just the large door at the end. Along the walls are crates and canisters, many of them dented and dirty in some way. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

“Where am I?” she growls.

He pats his lip with a cloth napkin. “Patience, sweet one. You understand how playing cards makes one completely famished.”

You’ve never starved a day in your life. That much, I can tell. She keeps her glare fixed in her eyes, her vein protruding from her neck. Bras finishes his meal, washing it down with a glass of red wine. He makes a refreshed “ahh” sound and then stands, circling around his desk. “I warned you,” he says. “Did I not? You should have taken my deal.”

“I wasn’t interested.” She puts on her bravest face.

“And look where that got you. Regretting that decision now, aren’t you?”

She sneers at him. “Is this supposed to scare me? Look around you, old man. If you weren’t scared of me winning in the first place, you wouldn’t have set this whole thing up.”

Bras grins. Then, he tosses his wine glass towards the wall and in the moment it shatters, he wraps his fingers around her neck and lifts, his thumb pressing against her trachea. “What is it with pests like you being so stubborn? You could have had the galaxy in the palm of your hand!” She gasps for air, her chest crying out for relief. “But no. You throw it all away for what? Pettiness? Nobility?”

“Ah… hah… why not both?” she chokes out. His nostrils flare at that. Dropping her back onto the ground, she lands with a pained sound, then he delivers an open blow to her cheek with his palm.

“It’s a damn shame.” He kneels down, clawing her hair with his hand and forcing her to look up at him. “A beautiful mind is wasted on you. You could have been greater than this.”

She shivers, expecting another slap on her red cheek. Her heart races and she’s certain that the end is coming for her and it won’t be pleasant. “So… now what?” She breathes fast. “You’re gonna kill me?”

“Oh, sweet one. Not yet.” He flashes a sinister smile. “I’m certain the Mandalorian is well on his way here, coming for you.” Her face pales. “And when he arrives, we will be sure to greet him.”

“H-He has nothing you want!”

“No? He has a full set of new beskar armor. It will be perfect to add to my collection, in addition to the grand prize.” No! It is only now that her defiance drops and pure terror enters her eyes. The image of Din walking straight into a trap and being brutally assaulted, murdered, by the Stormtroopers robs her of words. She shakes her head. “My…” Bras breathes out in wonder, tilting her head. “You have such pretty eyes, especially when they are so full of despair.” With a dark chuckle, he drops her again. “I’ll tell you what, my little pest.”

The tip of his boot slips under her chin, tilting it up. “When he dies, I will remove his helmet. And you can look upon him all you want with those pretty eyes.” His foot presses down against her neck. “Let the sight of him be the last respite during your slow death.”

---

The doors of the elevator slide open and the Mandalorian aims his blaster, expecting an immediate confrontation. When he sees that the coast is clear, he enters a brisk pace making his way down the dimly lit hall. He’s taught Grogu well so far on how to keep himself clear of the danger so all Din has to do is focus on rescuing her.

He hears boots jogging towards him about to turn the corner, so he flattens himself against the wall. When they come into view, he immediately opens fire from their flank, yanking the nearest one towards him as a meat shield. It’s at this moment that his eyes widen at the familiar armor, but he does not hesitate in tossing the meat shield towards the ground and kicking its head. “Stormtroopers?”

Grogu’s face crunches in animosity, wrinkles deepening in his cheeks and forehead.

“Dank farrik.” His walk turns into a jog as blood rushes to his head. He hadn’t encountered these since Moff Gideon, since someone else stole someone important to him. Din expects there to be loads more of them up ahead, so he has to exercise some caution if he wants all three of them to make it out of there alive. When he hears more footsteps, he stops in the hallway and reaches for the small bombs in his belt. “Get back, kid.” Just before the Stormtroopers turn the corner, he sticks them on the wall and charges them, listening to the tempo of its beeping.

He stashes the blaster and his hand hovers over his choice of blade: the Vibroblade or the Darksaber. The latter is the more powerful weapon, but it still feels like he’s trying to lift a Mudhorn. No, he doesn’t have time for that. Din grabs the Vibroblade and readies himself. The Stormtroopers come in hot, their blaster fire lighting up the hallway while he hides around the corner. All he has to do is wait for the bomb to go off.

As soon as a Stormtrooper rounds the corner, Din delivers a hard left hook against its helmet to knock it back. In the small window of vulnerability, he darts his Vibroblade forward into the space between the helmet and chest plate, piercing through the softer mesh and disposing of the clone quickly. Just before he falls, Din relieves him of his blaster rifle, using the extra heat to return fire. The tempo of his bomb reaches its finale and he hides behind the wall just before it bursts into a cloud of fire, shaking the ground and scattering the Stormtroopers. He walks past the fire, coming up on a trooper trying to push himself off the ground. Din swiftly uses the flat end of the rifle to slam on the back of its neck, knocking it out cold.

The bottom floor is a maze of winding, dark walls, but he figures that as long as he follows where the Stromtroopers are coming from, he will find her.

Just hold on, please. I’m coming.

---

They hear a distant rumble and the lights flicker for a second. She lifts her head, listening for anything more in the dead silence. Bras leans back in his chair. “He’s here,” he says melodically. “Get ready.” The Stormtroopers make a crescent shape around the door, their rifles at the ready. Her heart goes into overdrive and her eyes glue to the door. Please don’t come in, please don’t come in, please don’t come in!

Another boom in the distance shakes the room, this time louder and closer. Muffled blaster fire and grunts of battle reach her ears. She breathes hard, as if her lungs cannot get enough air, and sweat cakes her forehead. Then comes silence. The door slides open and she holds her breath.

No one stands there.

The Stormtroopers exchange glances of confusion with each other while one takes a step forward. From the corner of the door, high pitched whistles startle them all and tiny blue lights fly through the air. They hone in on the Stormtroopers, piercing through their armor with precision and speed. One by one, the pins explode and make short work of many of them. She watches Bras’s sadistic smile drop in the matter of seconds.

The Mandalorian steps into the door frame and opens fire. Some blaster shots bounce off his armor but others make purchase on his unprotected areas, staggering him and making him grunt in pain. Two troopers gang up on him, using the ends of their rifles to knock him upside the head. “Din!” He takes a knee and a beating before he slaps a button on his vambrace and a stream of fire emerges. Pushing them back and igniting them, he stops his flamethrower and pulls out something that she had never seen anything like in her life.

A high-pitched hum fills the room as a blade of pure black light emerges from the hilt. Din has to hold it with both hands, but one swing slices through Stormtrooper armor clean. With Bras’s forces dwindling, he pulls a blaster out of his desk and stomps towards her.

As soon as Din finishes off the last trooper, Bras yanks her up by her neck, making her scream as he points the barrel towards her cheek. “Mandalorian!” he announces.

The Mandalorian slowly turns towards Bras, his weapon scraping against the floor and making sparks. Following him close behind and opening the canopy of his pram is Grogu, his big eyes narrowing. When he speaks, his words are clear with the bite of seething rage. “Let her go. Now.” He takes a step forward.

“Not one more step!” Bras spits, jamming the barrel deeper against her skin. “You’re going to listen to me, or you can walk out of here carrying her corpse.” Din doesn’t move. “Good boy. Now, let’s make a deal, shall we? I know you’re after the beskar. Let me go and I’ll give you two ingots from the grand prize. How’s that?”

She can’t see it, but she can feel Din’s glare. His shoulders tense and he takes a few more steps forward, the blade scraping against the floor. “No.”

“Th-three ingots!”

“No. Hand her over.”

“I warned you not to take another step!” She shuts her eyes, waiting for the click of the trigger near her ear. It never comes. Instead, the hands around her tremble and she hears pained gasps coming from Bras. Peeling her eyes open, she looks up and see his eyes widen, his tongue peeking out as he chokes. From what? The blaster falls to the floor and he lets go of her entirely and drops her, grasping at his neck.

Din does nothing, but Grogu has his claw extended towards Bras, his eyes focused with murderous intent. As he curls his fingers in, she puts two and two together, sliding away from Bras. Din storms up to him, lifting the saber and driving it through his chest. He clicks the button to draw the blade back, leaving Bras to fall to his knees. He wheezes as he collapses over, the last of his life extinguished.

Finally, she can breathe in relief. “Din!” He faces her and rushes to kneel down. As soon as he’s close by, he takes a tool from his belt and goes to work on the restraints around her wrists. The second she is free and the thick cuffs fall against the floor, she throws her arms around his shoulders and holds him tight. “Oh thank the stars! I thought he was going to kill you!”

He freezes, his hands sitting in the air awkwardly. But then he gives in, resting on hand on the small of her back and the other across her shoulder. “You… you were worried about me?” She was the one who was taken, she was the one being held at gunpoint, she almost died a minute ago. But she was worried about him.

She’s either really brave or really nuts.

“It was a trap. He wanted your beskar.” She pulls away, keeping her hands on his arms. “I--” Grogu jumps into the space between their bodies, his hands clinging to the cloth of her dress. She laughs in relief, hugging him close. “Thank you, Grogu. I can’t believe you came here… I…”

It’s a beautiful sight, Din thinks. Happy tears roll down her cheeks as she presses her forehead against Grogu’s her nose brushing against his. His hands cup her cheeks: a feeling he himself knows well. Din had only seen that level of protectiveness from Grogu for himself, never anyone else. She lifts her head, smiling despite what she just endured.

“Thank you, Din.”

His chest flutters and he feels his face flush again, despite the battle have ended. Words don’t come to his tongue, so he settles for an awkward nod. He helps her to her feet, letting Grogu remain in her arms for now. “Can you walk?”

“Yeah.”

He keeps an arm around her waist just in case. She uses one hand to keep Grogu against her and the other to wrap around Din’s shoulders, leaning on him occasionally when she needs it.

As they walk past the small fires and scattered, knocked-out troopers, Din has a funny thought that he keeps to himself:

In that moment, they feel like a clan of three.