#i hope my colorful commentary is helpful

[vampiricgf]

— v. lycaon | perfect coincidences

·₊̣̇. ⊱ warnings: fem reader, baby fever, breeding kink, he just wants to knock you the fuck up, explicit talk of pregnancy, knotting, creampie, praise, established relationship, biting, pet names (sweetheart, little mate), mating press, crying, cervix fucking, he's also so in love with you it's sickening

wc: 2.5k+

tumblrs being stupid so im sorry if this posts n the formatting is off >.< im once again saying he would have the most diabolical breeding kink okie bye~‹𝟹

It had been a running commentary all day as you two ran errands together, from one person after the next.

At the flower shop, being stopped by a kindly older woman who asked for help selecting flowers for a granddaughter. Of course Lycaon knew the best ones and the old woman was clearly absolutely taken with him, ever the gentleman, as you'd watched with a bemused smile on your face. Only when she had finished and paid for the colorful bouquet did she turn to you, grinning in that sort of conspiratorial way grandmothers tend to do.

"Your husband is wonderful, do you two have any children by chance?" With a light hand on your forearm she posed the question.

It left you floundering briefly. Husband? Children? You two weren't even married, had only been dating for a little over a year.

"Oh no we're not-"

"Well, you should definitely change that dearie," she grinned and gave you a wink, which only made you run hot all over and stutter before she walked out of the shop humming to herself.

As Lycaon returned to your side, a small bouquet of your favorite flowers tucked in the crook of his elbow he gave you a curious once over. "Is everything alright?"

You shook your head, flashing him a small smile and grasping his hand tightly in yours. "I'm fine, do you want to grab coffee before we go home?"

Then again inside the Coff Cafe, as he handed you the bouquet to hold so he could pay and grab your drinks a young woman standing next to you gave you a wistful look, eyes flicking from the bouquet to Lycaons back.

"You're so lucky to have somebody who gets you flowers."

That made you shyly glance down at the fragrant blooms before answering. "Mhm, he is really wonderful."

"I bet you two have the cutest little kids, all fuzzy ears and fluffy tails." She sighed longingly and you could only feel bewildered. Was there something about you screaming talk to me about my hypothetical kids today?

You laughed nervously, feeling grateful for Lycaons return and gladly accepting the warm to-go cup from his hand before answering as you turned to leave. "Well, I hope you find someone to bring you flowers."

You felt him looking at you quizzically as the door jingled shut behind you and the mild chill of the outside world returned as you walk towards the metro station.

"Isn't it strange, all these people asking if we're married or have kids today?" You said, looking up at him and not quite sure what you're hoping his answer will be.

His face was unreadable, in the way he gets with his clients, like he's purposely maintaining a safe distance as he responds. "I suppose it's only natural to wonder."

His noncommittal answer only left you more puzzled but as you two boarded the train you took the opportunity to silently ponder the questions from strangers, fingers tangled loosely in his as you sat side by side.

Would we have cute kids?

~

It was late when his eyes cracked open, late enough that the bedroom was still pitch black and you were sound asleep against him, curled on your side with your back pressed to his chest. He could hear your soft, even little puffs of air in the dark as his nose pressed to the back of your neck.

You murmured something in your sleep, something that sounded an awful lot like his name and it brought a little thrill to his heart. He tried to mostly keep it contained but the reality was that you were just so sweet, so adorable and as it turns out you were the exact same way when you were unconscious and it made his arms flex, squeezing around you a little tighter.

He'd heard the term once from Ellen at work, cuteness aggression. It fit how he felt about you in moments like this, as if he could just squeeze and squeeze until you two were mashed into one entity because you were just too cute, it couldn't be helped.

My adorable little mate.

The sudden thought made him freeze. You two weren't actually mated, and it was at his own insistence. He never wanted to hurt you and constantly worried anytime you brought it up because the simple fact was that he was stronger than you and could easily lose control of himself during the act. It was already hard enough to not pummel his knot inside you like you were just a toy when you two had sex, no matter how much you begged for it.

But then again, it was an urge, a longing, he consistently felt the need to fulfill. To dig his teeth into the side of your neck, hold you still while his knot locked you two together and he drowned your fluttering pussy in cum. More than enough to get you pregnant.

Unconsciously his hand slipped beneath your shirt, massaging slow circles into your side, then your tummy. You'd look so beautiful like that, belly all round with his child and breasts swelling with milk. Your scent would change first with the undercurrent of that sweet, milky smell all young children carry with them for a short while.

You'd looked at him so expectantly earlier as you'd asked what he thought about all those people commenting on if you had children at home. You'd tried to sound flippant, but he could tell you expected a certain answer from him. Had seen the look on your face on the train, silently pouring over the question and it didn't take much to know you were imagining those hypothetical babies.

But even after more than a year of dating he'd never once cum inside you, always pulling out to press your thighs together and fuck them before spilling against your stomach and chest.

He'd take such good care of you though, you'd never lift a finger or even leave the bed if you didn't desire to throughout the entire long nine months. You'd be a princess inside this spacious home, wanting for nothing and he'd lavish you every second of the day if you let him. No part of you would go underappreciated.

As his hips started moving of their own accord, pressing his growing erection against the swell of your ass, and he breathed you in even deeper it suddenly clicked, a bizarre flash of perfect clarity.

He needed to get you pregnant, needed to knot you as many times as possible to make sure it took, needed to make you cry out and do that thing he secretly enjoys: twining the fur at the back of his neck between your fingers to tug on it then smoothing it back down as if you're apologizing for the act. Wanted to feel exactly how tight you could get when he squeezed his knot inside and felt you clamping down on him to milk him for all he had.

Oh and he'd give it to you, give you everything you could ever ask for.

"Lycaon?" Your voice was low, thick with sleep as you stirred at the feeling of him grinding against you.

He gave a little mhm before burying his face against your neck again, nipping and sucking lightly on the delicate flesh, his hand sliding higher to grope at your breasts beneath his shirt you wore. Never before has been so thankful for your habit of wearing only his shirts and a pair of panties to bed.

Your own hips moved lazily with his, little groans muffled as you turned your head to the pillow that only spurred him on to pull the flimsy fabric between your legs to the side, dipping a finger into your wetness before sliding up to play with your clit. As soon as the pad of his finger pressed against you your breathing changed, becoming a little more rough the more he circled and teased at your needy little bud.

Before long he was lapping at your neck, practically whining as he ground his now painfully hard cock against you and plunging two fingers inside your soaking wet heat. The way your body eagerly welcomed the intrusion only fueled the haze of lust gripping his mind, reinforced the thought that this was what you wanted too.

But tonight he was too impatient to do his usual routine of playing with your pussy until you were so wet it would stick to your thighs and drip down to the sheets. Tonight he had a more direct goal driving him forward.

So gently he encouraged you to turn onto your back, letting him slide those silky underwear off and spread your legs wide, drawing sticky hearts against your clit with one hand while the other hiked up the t shirt you wore to expose your chest. Greedily he took one of your nipples into his mouth, canines grazing the thin skin of it dangerously as he sucked and flicked his tongue against the hardened bud.

In a hurry he pulled back, hands fumbling with the pajama bottoms he wore in order to let his throbbing cock spring free, smacking against his lower abdomen and as he glanced up you moaned at the sight. If only you knew what an ego boost it was when he saw your eyes go wide every time, as if it were the first time all over again. The way you looked like you were practically salivating at the size of him. When your eyes flicked up through sleep heavy lashes it sent a shiver down his spine.

Sometimes he swore you were more beastial than he was.

Quickly he leaned back down to capture your lips, a searing needy kiss that was a tangle of sloppy teeth and tongues. It didn't matter, all that mattered was that you knew how badly he wanted you, needed you.

In between panting breaths you spoke and it was like an adrenaline shot to the heart.

"I love you."

"God I love you," he sighed, lining himself up with your entrance and as the head of his cock pushed in, sitting heavy inside you, his head hung down with a moan of your name.

Strong arms grabbed at your legs, pushing them up to his shoulders before he bent back down and fully slid inside you, groaning against the feeling of your walls sucking him in deeper and his knot coming to rest right up at your slick hole.

"You always take it so well," he couldn't help the words of praise, watching your breasts move as your breathing became strained against the feeling of him prodding at your cervix. He kissed the spot between your brows, smoothing the look of pained adjustment and waiting until you give a little nod of your head for him to continue.

"So good for me," he wasn't sure what had gotten into him but tonight he just felt overcome with the urge to make sure you knew just how much he loved you, loved this.

His pace was slow initially, pulling out to just the tip only to rock back into you and hit that perfect spot that made your toes curl in midair. It was heaven, feeling you cling onto him, mewling and whining while the soft squelch of your pussy filled the room. The perfect symphony to match the lust drunk feeling buzzing in his veins.

All those little sounds encouraged his hips to set a more demanding pace, making your body jostle so violently it was all you could do to just hang onto his shoulders and lock your ankles together against his lower back, just above the base of his tail.

He pushed himself up onto his forearms, seeing how glossy your eyes were and the way your lips were parted in a wail as he pounded into you with an uncharacteristic abandon. As your voice reached a fever pitch you brokenly said it again, I love you. Over and over again like it was the only tether you had in the world and suddenly all of his earlier fantasies came spilling out in between frantic presses of his lips against your jaw and throat.

"I wanna get you pregnant," he gasped and you moaned a particularly loud curse, "please sweetheart, please I wanna cum inside you" the last syllable was an unintelligible kneen from low in his throat as your heels dug into his back.

Against the cacophony of skin smacking and the wheezing of your breath as he pushed your legs harder against your chest he heard it.

"Gonna have your baby- ah!"

And that was all he needed, hips snapping against you mercilessly, teeth bared against the side of your throat. The way you squeezed around him in a stranglehold told him you were close and he could feel his balls tightening in response, preparation for release and his knot was swollen, throbbing, aching with every press against your entrance and teased with the promise of popping in snuggly against your spongy walls.

And within seconds he could feel it, one last punishing thrust before it bullied its way into your pussy, expanding and slotting itself perfectly in place while he flooded you with thick, gooey cum. Desperately he kept rocking against you, like he could fuck it deeper inside you and his fingers came back to rub loving circles over your clit, watching as your eyes rolled back and your mouth dropped open in a silent moan.

The way you felt around him in that second was the most explosively pleasurable feeling he's ever had in his life. Greedy walls massaging against his cock, squeezing his knot hard enough that it nearly knocked the breath from his lungs.

It was perfect, you were perfect. Your body so willing and waiting, taking his painfully thick knot so well it was like you'd done it a thousand times, rather than tonight being the first. And you were entirely his, his to pump load after load inside, his to pin down and fuck until your belly was nice and round.

Even as you remained locked together and coming down from your own orgasm his hips never stopped moving, and he licked at the saltwater tracking down your cheeks, apologizing for making you so oversensitive but surely you can tell he can't stop here. He held you and continued to mindlessly rut against you, holding you so impossibly close.

"We have to make sure it takes," he finally, brokenly, spoke as he could feel the swelling come down yet he didn't soften inside you, if anything he felt even harder as he fell back into the slow, yet firm rhythm he started with.

You cried out so high, so obscenely, clutching and pulling at his fur he couldn't help but give you a cautionary bite to the shoulder, a warning to stop twitching your hips and take what he was giving you and like a good little mate you listened.

As he moved to nip at your bottom lip it was with a million silent promises, to care for you all throughout what would come from this.

And you have to know he means it, know he'll tell you all over again in the light of day when you're so sore he'll have to carry you to the bath, when you both admire the smattering of light bruises on your thighs and hips. Because you're his mate, his love for the rest of his life.

[slytherheign]

YOU BELONG WITH ME | tasm!peter parker

PAIRING: high school senior!tasm!peter parker x high school senior!fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

SUMMARY: you can’t help but feel insecure when you realize your best friend peter and the most famous girl in the school are keeping a sweet secret from you.

WARNINGS: cursing/swearing, awkwardness, jealousy, insecurities, self-loathing, reader is an overthinker and assumes things easily. let me know if i missed any warnings. [⚠︎︎RATING: G]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: inspired by taylor swift’s song with the same title. angst with happy ending. dedicated to @joshiiieeenesx, thanks for supporting me and requesting this. i hope you’re having a great day!

DESTINATION: Sweet Street | GO BACK TO THE STATION. CLICK HERE FOR ALL THINGS YBWM (reviews, commentary, etc. about this fic).

It was Friday Night.

Your favorite day and time of the week because of your tradition with Peter to order pizza and watch a movie. Tonight was a bit different though, you both decided to order your least favorite flavor of pizza and watch the lowest-rated movie ever. 

Peter made a joke in the middle of the movie, causing you to laugh and cover your face with your hands. It was a habit you developed since you were a kid when a bully made fun of you for having an ‘ugly-laughing’ face. “Stop,” he chuckled as he captured your wrists with his hands. “Stop what?” you questioned unknowingly, allowing him to hold your wrists and pull them away from your face. You stared at him confusingly.

“Stop covering your face when you laugh,” he said. “I can’t see your pretty face.” Peter would always make little comments here and there about you, most of them being compliments. You ought not to make it serious since you’d always tell flirty jokes to each other, but you just can’t help but feel a little flutter in your stomach every time he would compliment you.

You tried covering the increasing redness of your cheeks with laughter. “I’m serious. Stop covering your face,” he told you. “What if I told you I’m doing it on purpose?” you thought of a quick funny remark.  “And why, may I ask, are you doing it on purpose?” he quirked an eyebrow. 

“Let’s just say, if you see my beautiful face when I’m laughing, you might just fall in love,” you joked, smirking at him. There was a tinge of the color red in his cheeks, but he was quick to hide it with a chuckle.

“Well, why don’t you let me see your beautiful face then let’s see if I really fall in love?” he remarked. Once again, you laughed because you didn’t know how to respond. Peter was laughing with you when his phone suddenly rang. He quickly stood up, covering the name of the caller with his hand before walking to a private secluded room in his house to answer it. You didn’t mind it. After all, everyone deserved privacy when they’re talking to someone on the phone. Besides, you were actually quite thankful because the phone call interrupted the growing awkwardness in the room. You paused the movie while Peter talked on the phone in the other room.

Minutes passed and you were getting bored of waiting for him. You decided to pull your phone from your jeans pocket and open the Instagram app for a bit. Your feed was pretty much full of your schoolmates that were either busy preparing for prom next friday or busy with the upcoming game on Monday. You scrolled mindlessly, double-tapping each post from your close friends when you stumbled upon a post from her.

Gwen Stacy. Blonde hair, blue eyes, perfect body. The cheer captain, head of the planning committee, the smartest in school… well, not the smartest because that would be Peter… but still the smartest girl in school. Having all that, you’d think she was the type to be the typical mean girl, but no… she’s actually the nicest.

In the picture, she was smiling with the other cheerleaders, their teeth as white as snow and their faces as beautiful as barbie dolls even when they were sweating. Sometimes you just wonder if they ever had a bad hair day or they’re just perfect all the time.

“Please! Gwen, come on!” you heard Peter yell. Gwen? Why was he talking to Gwen Stacy?

“Really? Yes!” you heard him exclaim excitedly. A pang of jealousy hit your chest, the feeling was unwelcome because you knew he wasn’t even yours to begin with. But still, it hurt.

The next thing you heard was his footsteps nearing the door. You collected yourself immediately, greeting him with a smile as he opened the door.

“Sorry about that,” he smiled, with the same fucking smile you fell in love with. He sat next to you on the couch, subtly putting his arm on the back just around where your head was resting. He grabbed the remote from your hand, but for a few seconds, you felt it linger when his hand touched yours.

He pressed the play button and you both continued to watch the movie.

“Okay, just so we’re clear. You think Peter and Gwen are dating?” your other friend, Mary Jane, iterated on the phone. It was Sunday night, the only time MJ had free time this week since she was also a cheerleader.

“Yes,” you answered clearly. “I heard them talking on the phone the other night. Peter seemed really happy and excited.”

“And what do you feel about that?” she asked.

“Uh–I don’t know?” you admitted.

“I call bull. Come on, I know you’re in love with Peter.”

“Okay. I do have feelings for him… but I don’t think he feels the same about me. He probably asked Gwen to be his prom date even though we promised we’d take each other to the event.”

“So you’re not going to prom anymore?”

“I mean I already have a dress so I guess I’ll still go. It just sucks that I’ll be going without him.”

“Since when did you get a dress?!” 

“Uhh… since last week?” 

“And you didn’t even tell me?” she made a sound of absolute shock. Knowing her, you knew she probably had her hand on her chest while making that sound. “I could’ve helped you pick.”

“It’s not a problem honestly. Besides, I kinda wanted it to be a surprise?”

“Can you at least tell me the color?” she pleaded.

“Blue. Like the kind of blue in Spider-Man’s suit.”

“Weird way to describe a color. Is there a specific reason why you chose blue? I thought you never liked blue.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you but don’t tell anyone about this because I think Peter is kinda embarrassed about it… Peter is obsessed with Spider-Man. He’s such a huge fan of his–maybe even his number one fan. He even tried to hide it from me, but when I found a Spider-Man suit in his closet he just started getting really nervous and he only stopped when I told him it’s fine if he’s a fan. I’m not judging him, I think Spider-Man is really cool too,” you explained. “I was hoping he’d notice the color reference but now that he’s going with Gwen Stacy, I doubt he would even look at me.”

“You really think Peter would ignore you? Have you seen how that man looks at you?”

“He looks at everyone like that. It’s nothing special,” you denied.

“Listen, believe what you want to believe but I know Peter is definitely in love with you too. But if you did end up alone and out of place at the event, you’re welcome to sit with me.”

“Thanks, but you literally have a date. I don’t wanna be a third wheel,” you laughed. “I appreciate the thought though,” you exchanged goodbyes not long after that, wishing her good luck on their cheer performance.

You thought hard about what she said. Peter did become more clingy to you these last few months and he always made sure to text or call you every day. You guessed there really was a chance Peter shared the same feelings with you. 

Maybe he was just talking to Gwen as a friend.

You were at the gymnasium where you'd have to watch student-athletes pass the ball to each other, all having the same objective to shoot the ball in their respective goals. And when a member of a team claimed their shot, it would repeat all over again. 

You were never into sports. If you had a choice, you’d rather stay in bed and continue reading Looking For Alaska, but instead, you were stuck sitting on the bleachers while watching cheerleaders dance their routine in such a flawless manner. As much as you wanted to focus on MJ and support her, your eyes couldn’t help but look at Gwen. She really was mesmerizing.

You were too busy comparing her shiny legs and the way they moved with their short flowy skirts with your simple t-shirt and sneakers to even notice someone sitting beside you.

You continued watching Gwen dance, focusing on her pretty face and realizing that even in her sweaty condition she still kept dazzling everyone in the room with her beautiful smile. You noticed her wink in your direction. For a moment you thought she was winking at you, but when you followed the direction she was smiling at you noticed it was directed at someone beside you—Peter. 

Funny. You didn’t even know Peter was beside you.

“Hi?” you greeted, putting your best smile in front of him while your stomach ached from cruel jealousy.

“Hey,” he simply replied, before focusing on the phone he just got out of his pocket. He was busy texting someone. 

“So…you already have a suit for Friday?” you asked, trying to start a conversation. He shook his head. “Nope. But I plan on looking later today.”

“Cool. Do you want me to go with you? I don’t have anything to do after this,” you offered. 

He stopped and finally looked at you. You noticed how his eyes widened at your question and after mere seconds of looking at your eye, he looked away. He didn’t even need to open his mouth, his body language already told you that he already had someone he was going with.

You felt too sick to even hear his reply, immediately knowing the answer. You excused yourself, going straight to the bathroom to try to compose yourself and your body that was slowly starting to shake. You looked at yourself in the mirror, yelling inside your head to stop the tears that were threatening to fall. 

You and Peter were supposed to be inseparable. From childhood up until that moment earlier on the bleachers, you thought you would end up together.

All those years, you have convinced yourself you would be together and told the stars that he belonged with you.

But maybe he belonged with someone else.

And if you truly loved him, who were you to stop him from following his heart?

The moment you stepped inside the school tomorrow morning, Peter immediately wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

If it was yesterday or the days before, you would’ve loved it and your stomach would’ve already been swarmed with butterflies. But today, all it felt was aching pain.

“Hey,” he kissed your cheek, a thing he always did whenever he saw you at school. “MJ told me you went home early yesterday because you weren’t feeling well. Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve walked you home.”

“It’s fine, really,” you answered. It wasn’t fine, but how could you tell him he was the reason you couldn’t bear to stay at school yesterday?

“Well, I missed you. You got me really worried.”

And there it was again, the feeling of your heart jumping just from the words he said and how his voice spoke them. Was Gwen even okay with him putting his arm around your shoulder and walking with you in the hallways?

You did your best acting like everything was alright for the rest of today. Peter was busy texting Gwen for most of the time anyway, it wasn’t hard to convince him everything was fine.

Classes for Wednesday and Thursday were suspended to give way for prom preparations. You didn’t have much to do on Wednesday, so when MJ offered an idea to practice doing makeup and putting on the dresses to prepare for prom, you agreed.

You sat in your room in front of your vanity mirror while MJ did your makeup for you. She matched the eyeshadow with the color of your dress, and you must admit, she did amazing. Next was your hair, you requested it to be an updo, with the hairpins you picked out scattered attractively.

For a moment, you wondered what Peter could be doing right now. His house was just next to yours, his bedroom window facing yours and if you only pulled your curtains aside, you would see him through his window—if it wasn’t covered by his curtains.

Mary Jane snapped you back to reality by complimenting the details of the dress she just pulled out of your closet. “I need to see you in this dress now.”

You chuckled but complied nonetheless. With her help, you carefully put on the dark blue long dress. “Shit. This dress is made for you,” she complimented. It was true, you were indeed a vision. The dress hugged your body perfectly and the details were perfect to your liking. You never liked the color blue, but this dress got you second thinking. 

After putting on your heels, you checked yourself out in the mirror when MJ’s phone suddenly rang. “Peter? Hi,” she answered. As soon as she said his name, you turned around to face her.

“Are you okay?” MJ asked Peter. “You sound ill.”

“What’s happening?” you didn’t care anymore if Peter wasn’t talking to you. Something was wrong with him based on MJ’s reaction, and you were concerned.

“Oh my god.”

“MJ, what is it?” 

“Something is really wrong with him. I think we need to go to his hou–” she didn’t have the opportunity to finish her sentence when you immediately walked out of your room still in your dress and on your way to Peter’s house. MJ followed you but stayed outside Peter’s house. She smirked the moment you entered his house. Everything was going as planned.

Aunt May was thankfully on vacation somewhere, you couldn’t imagine her reaction if she saw you rushing towards her nephew’s room in a long dress and in heels. 

You carefully knocked on his bedroom door, announcing your presence. “Y/N?” he asked and you hummed in response. “I’m in here,” he answered from the next room. As far as you can remember, that room was an empty one. You weren’t sure why Peter was in there but in times of emergencies like this one, you didn’t care. “Can I open the door?” you asked.

“Yes.”

You did not expect what you saw.

The room was dark as a result of the windows being covered. On the floor were littered little candles with your favorite scent lit up to light the room in a romantic manner. There was an area left for you to walk leading to the middle of the room, which had a space just enough for two people. You also noticed the petals of roses scattered on the floor as a string version of your favorite song started playing. 

A figure emerged from the shadows—Peter. He offered his hand for you to take and only then when he led you to the middle did the fire from the candles revealed his outfit. He was wearing a suit that perfectly matched the color of your dress. You didn’t know how he knew the exact color of your dress, you would ask him that later.

You were both speechless, neither knowing what to say. “Wow…” he breathed out. “How could a person look so beautiful? You are unreal.”

“Thank you,” you blushed. “You look handsome too.”

He held your hand and guided it towards his lips, placing a soft kiss on the back of it before holding each of your hands with both of his.

“Peter?” you started to say. “What–”

“You know I prepared a whole speech just for this moment,” he interrupted. “And then as soon as I saw you, I just forgot every single thing in the world because you’re the only one that matters.”

Tears were starting to gloss your eyes but before you could start crying from his sentiment, you asked him a question that has been vexing you for quite a while.

“What about Gwen?”

His face was quick to react to your question. His forehead scrunched up, looking at you as if to tell you if you could emphasize your question.

“I thought you were together. You were talking to each other pretty much the whole week. You were texting and calling each other, she was with you when you picked your suit, and then I saw her wink at you at the game.”

His face slowly dawned with realization. As soon as he realized what you were talking about, he couldn’t help but laugh. But upon seeing your worried face, he stopped laughing at once and looked straight into your eyes with absolute seriousness.

“Gwen and I are nothing more than just friends. We are not together. We’ve been talking to each other a lot because I asked her for help on how to surprise you. She also helped me pick the right suit so I wouldn’t embarrass myself with a lousy one. She winked at me at the game because she was excited that after the game ended, we would set up this surprise. And also because I was sitting next to you in the bleachers, she kinda saw me stare at you while you were busy watching the cheer routine. The wink was just her teasing and being excited. It doesn’t mean anything, I swear. It’s only you. I only want you.”

“Shit. So I really just overthought the whole situation,” you chuckled. “I’m so stupid.”

“No, you’re not stupid. Don’t invalidate your feelings, It’s completely understandable. If I was you I’d think the same too.”

After a short moment of soft understanding silence, you felt him stiffen. His hands now held yours a little bit tighter. “Can I ask you a question?” he finally said.

“Let me guess, you want me to be your prom date?” you tried to ease the tension with the obvious question.

“Yes, and no.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I want to take you to prom, yes. But that’s not the only thing I want. I want to take you on dates, I want to dance with you not just at events organized by the school, I want to buy you flowers, every day if I can; I want to watch scary movies with you and laugh when you’re too scared and you hide yourself with a pillow, I want to watch sad movies with you and bring you tissues and cuddle you the moment you cry, I want to watch romantic movies with you and cringe together when the characters do something embarrassing and wrap my arms around you when you blush at something sweet that they do. I want the tears, the pain, the frustration, the confusion, the sweetness, the laughter—everything. I want everything. With you.”

“Pete…”

“We’re seniors. Next year, we’re going to college. We will take on different paths and places, but before that even happens, I want you to be my place that’s never changing. And if you feel the same, I want to be your place that’s never changing too. You have been my best friend since we were kids, and I don’t want my memory of us to be just two people being friends since childhood,” he said before resting his forehead against yours. “I am in love with you, Y/N L/N. Would you be willing to enter a relationship that’s more than friends with me?”

Tears glossed over your eyes again, but this time, you let one fall. Peter was quick to wipe it with his hand. “Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not hold it against you. Tell me you don’t feel the same and I will not cross the line of being more than friends. Know that I will not force you into a relationship you do not want. Tell me if you don’t feel the same and I–”

“Yes,” you stopped him before he could finish his sentence. “The answer is yes. I am in love with you as well, Peter Parker. I have been for a long time.”

Peter smiled, now feeling his own tears try to escape his eyes but he didn’t let them fall. “May I dance with you?”

You chuckled but agreed, letting him guide you into position. Your forearms rested on his shoulders, your hands softly stroking the back of his neck while his hands were positioned at both sides of your waist. As the music still played in the background, you both started swaying.

“I can’t take my eyes off of you. You’re gorgeous,” he commented. “You don’t look so bad yourself. Your suit even matched my dress,” you said back.

“I’ll have to thank MJ for that.”

“Wait–MJ is a part of this?” 

“Of course, she is. How’d you think I knew the color of your dress?”

You suddenly remembered the conversation you had with MJ when she asked you about the color of your dress. And then you also remembered that MJ was the reason why you were even inside Peter’s house right now in the first place. Peter called her and then she said that something was wrong with him and urged you to come here. Where was she even now anyways?

Peter laughed as he watched your face change from confusion to realization. “You know what–I’ll give it to y’all. You, Gwen, and MJ are good at this,” you admitted.

“The dressing up with our prom outfits and dancing was my idea though,” he spoke as he guided you into a spin. “I wanted our first dance to be private, not in a room filled with other students.”

You saw him glance at your lips for a moment before looking back into your eyes. “I also want to do this,” he said as he leaned in closer and met your lips with his.

You’ve imagined this moment ever since your heart started beating for him. But still, the feeling of his lips against yours for real was better than what you’d imagined it to be. The kiss was soft but intimate, neither of you having a need to rush into things but at the same time making up for lost time pining over each other silently. You wished you could kiss him forever and stay like this but you eventually needed to pull away to breathe.

“So, you really thought I was in love with Gwen?” he teased while you were catching your breath.

“Way to ruin the moment,” you chuckled, lightly punching his arm before nodding.

“Shit. I really made you jealous?” he seemed really proud of what he had done from the way he was smirking.

“Are you happy?” you jokingly asked, rolling your eyes with fake annoyance.

“Am I happy? Of course, I am. I just kissed you.”

You couldn’t find the words to reply as you blushed harder than you’d ever blushed before. Instead, you just laughed out of blissful happiness.

For the first time ever, he saw you laugh without covering your face and it was the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen. He couldn’t help but kiss you again.

Needless to say, the future was exciting.

If only he could tell you that he was Spider-Man.

SLYTHERHEIGN TAGLIST: @writingstoraes @joshiiieeenesx

TASM!PETER PARKER TAGLIST:  @mymilkducts @i-am-woman-strong @lauraneedstochill @jeanettexkillian @ms-mandalore @enaraism @alessandralol @sad-darksoul @sincericida @mentallystablepotato @mich0731 @logolepsic-insomniac @k0miiki @dreamsarecloserwithyou @jumilzzz @primroseparker @preciousbabypeter @myheartonthemove @rebecca-johnson-28 @silkholland @ellievickstar @okkulta @geekygamerchick @starqwerty20 ​ @the-quiet-observer @softiepeterpan

[hyunfilms]

love like this (han jisung) | one shot.

—summary: four years down with your boyfriend and still, no one else compares.

—pairing: bf!han jisung x f. reader

—genre: established relationship au | fluff

—word count: 2.0k

—warnings: nothing really; some cussing, lots of affection, kisses, mentions of alcohol and some alcohol consumption, music festival setting!

—on rotation: top tier - sunkis

—a/n: happiest of birthdays to my bestfriend @pearbunny! i know you've been missing jisung & the boys tough since lolla, so i hope this can bring you some comfort. forgive me if there's any mistakes - i literally whipped this up in the last hour lolol i love you!!! 🤍

“Baby, please don’t worry.” Jisung looks at you with his big doe-eyes, hands cupping your cheeks and giving them a soft playful squeeze. “We’re gonna have fun for your birthday, okay? No more stressing.” He runs his finger down your pout teasingly. “No more of this.”

“Fine.” You continue to look up at him with those pretty eyes, your body slowly relaxing in his hold. To be honest, you didn’t really know why you were throwing a fit— you were just worried about Jisung spending loads of money to take you to the music festival you had been wanting to go to as a birthday present. He wanted to do this, though. He wanted to go with you and have fun together, knowing you had been pretty stressed and mentally drained from work. He just wanted to see you smile, he just wanted to hold you and vibe together to music you both enjoyed, he just wanted you happy.

“I love you?” He says in a sing-song voice as he smiles, kissing the tip of your nose before planting one on your forehead. 

“I love you, too.” You playfully roll your eyes and finish packing your last minute things before vacation-proofing the apartment and catching an uber bright and early to the train station. 

The best thing about traveling with Jisung is him, himself. He’s the best partner in crime and always makes things 10x more enjoyable than it already is. The festival was on the outskirts of town, around a 2-hr train ride over. It doesn’t feel like it when you’re with your man, though— time always feels endless in the most perfect way, even after the 4 years you had been dating. 

You’ve never known a love like this.

On the train, you and Jisung share your pair of wired headphones to listen to Rotten Mango’s new true crime podcast episode. Jisung pauses every few minutes to discuss and debrief, barely leaving you guys time to start a new episode. He makes you laugh, especially when he makes those faces as the details of the case progress. You cling onto his arm and giggle onto his shoulder listening to his commentary and thought process and you swear, you could listen to him talk all day. You could listen to his little laughs, you could listen to the way he elaborates his thought process. You can’t help but lace your fingers with his tightly, placing a gentle kiss onto his neck, his jaw, just as the train is pulling up to your stop. Jisung holds onto your hand as he grabs your bags and hauls it out, expertly weaving through the wave of people exiting the train at the same stop. He doesn’t let you lift a finger and makes sure you’re taken care of well throughout every step of the way.

The airbnb Jisung rented is about 10 minutes away from where the festival is set to take place. It’s cute, it’s quaint, it’s perfect for the two of you. It’s a tiny in-law studio beneath a lovely house, the both of you having to walk through the side and through its sliding door to access the unit. The first thing you see when walking in is the bed neatly made in a thick, fluffy sage-colored duvet cover, with about 8 pillows [four big ones, four smaller ones for decoration] pressed against the headboard. Off to the right is the small living room and kitchen area— a couch and a coffee table in front of the 55’ inch flat screen TV. Down the hall would be the bathroom and a coat closet. The first day [or evening] of the festival was starting in a few hours, and Jisung knew you needed time to get ready. He presses repeated kisses to your lips just as you unpack and start getting ready in the bathroom, plopping onto the couch to order some delivery food you two could munch on before heading out.

“Baby!” 

“Yeah?” You respond as you continue to do your makeup in your tanktop and pajama shorts.

“The chicken is coming in like.. 15 minutes!” 

“Yay, okay!” All of a sudden, you hear Jisung’s feet padding over to the bathroom. He has music playing on the bluetooth speakers in the studio, softly of course, not to disturb the tenants upstairs. He leans against the door frame and has a huge smirk on his face, watching as you blend your eyeshadow on one eye.

“So hot.”

“I’m not even done with my makeup yet, babe.” You giggle.

“You don’t even need it, pretty girl.” He throws his hands up in defeat. “But, I know, I know. It completes the fit.” 

“You really do listen to me, don’t you?” You turn to face him with a small pout and he chuckles.

“Of course. I love the colors.” He leans to the side to get a better look at your eyes.

“Wanna pick my blush and lipstick?”

“Hm.” His finger rubs against his chin while he looks through your makeup laid out all over the place on the bathroom counter. He lifts a few options against your face, squinting to see his vision and which would fit best for it. “This.” He places the blush down in front of you. “And this.” He places the glittery translucent lip gloss next to it. “Pretty.”

“Thank you, babe.” You look up at him with the cutest smile, and he can’t help but peck the tip of your nose in a quick fashion.

“Can I do the blush and lip gloss for you?” He looks at you curiously, watching as you finish blending your other eye.

“Sure! I’m doing my lip gloss after we eat, though.”

“Good idea.”

“Here.” You hand him the blush and the proper brush, giving him some tips as he dabs the brush into the palette. He presses it light against your cheek, swiping it in the upwards motion that you keep mentioning. He swirls it around until the blush is blended well enough before moving onto the next cheek— taking a bit to the point of your nose. Then, he suggests [yells, almost] dabbing some glitter on the highest points of your cheeks just as he runs to meet the delivery driver outside. You take his suggestion, giggling as you complete your makeup look and throw on your outfit. Jisung sets the chicken out on the small kitchen counter, picking at a few pieces before he heads into the bathroom to get ready.

After another hour or so of eating, pre-gaming and adding last minute touches, you and Jisung finally head out to the festival. He’s sporting some black cargos with a black and lime green graphic tee, a distressed black denim vest with chains hanging off of its pockets. Your outfit is similar; black cargos that accentuate your curves and a lime green tube top under a black mesh shirt. While in the uber, Jisung holds up his promise of dabbing the lip gloss on your lips before snapping a few candid photos. You try to swat the phone away, causing him to laugh because in the end, he still manages to capture the best photos of you. 

Ones he’ll use as his wallpaper. Your contact photo. His home screen.

Everything about you, cause he’s never known a love like this.

When you arrive, the uber is having to drop you off a ways away from the main entrance gates and security due to the traffic. Jisung hands the driver a hefty cash tip before sliding out and grabbing your hand, leading the way to the gates. There’s a shit ton of people that are still making their way over and it slightly gives you anxiety having to be in such a crowded, chaotic space. You wait in line to enter, Jisung coming to the rescue by lazily wrapping his arms around you from behind. 

“We’re almost inside, love.” He says against your head, pressing chaste kisses to help calm you down. You relax in his hold, especially when people are pushing and shoving— doing everything that they can to rush inside. It takes close to 20 minutes before you’re finally passing security and scanning your mobile tickets. Despite the line chaos, you’re incredibly happy you’re here. Reality settles once you and Jisung take a few photos together, your man telling you how to pose for all your solo shots. He laces his hand with yours, kissing the surface as he smiles down at you in pure adoration while you skip around and start bouncing to the beat of the music. You both approach a booth to buy some cocktails to sip on, Jisung buying the both of you strawberry margaritas [on the rocks] before you finally dance over towards the main stage. He lets go of your hand when you start vibing with the margarita in one hand, loudly singing along to the song that’s being performed. Jisung joins along, the both of you in your own little world— as if it ain’t nothin’ but the two of you and no one else. The sun is getting ready to set below the horizon; deep orange in hues, filing the skies with layers of pinks, purples. The stage lights are bright, jumbo screens focusing on the performers and the crowd vibing along. There’s a breeze that feels good against your skin as you continue to dance along; the setting being more than picture perfect.

“Oy!” Chan yells, surprising you from behind. You scream, almost dropping your margarita when you come face to face with your entire group of friends.

“What the fuck! Are you doing! Here!” You turn to look at Jisung, tears welling at your bottom lids. He can’t help but laugh, pulling you flush against him when he tries to wipe the stray tears that manage to escape. “Did you do this?” You pout.

“Baby.” He laughs. “Why are you crying? You know I had to get our friends out here for your birthday.”

“Don’t cry! Did you really think we’d miss out on your birthday weekend?” 

“Yes.” You respond with a small cry. Changbin laughs, him and the rest of your friends pulling you into big hugs and greeting you happy birthday into your ear. It takes a few minutes for you to stop crying because even though you hadn’t expected this to happen, you were beyond happy it did. Jisung knew how much your friends meant to you and how much you wanted to celebrate with them. It took a month of planning, bickering in a secret group chat and numerous phone calls to make sure everyone was on the same page before the festival came around.

You had no idea.

All Jisung wanted for you was to feel loved and celebrated, just as you deserved to be. Every day, every hour, every minute.

At this point, the sun has fully set and the next headliner has made their way to the stage. It gets hyped for the first half, you and your friends loudly singing and bouncing along. Jisung pulls you against him, giving you the opportunity to dance up on him while he keeps up with the rhythm. You and your friends are all vibing along, having fun— all with big smiles and loud, hearty laughs. When the second half of the set comes, it’s at a much slower-pace than the beginning, allowing Jisung to hold you from behind and sway along with you from side to side. 

“I love you.” He says against your temple as you hold onto him, smiling when you feel his lips press a sweet, feathery kiss to the surface. 

“I love you too, Jisung.” You turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You tippy-toe to kiss him on the lips, his hands giving your sides a good squeeze. When you pull away, he’s quick to chase after your lips— deepening the kiss with no concern for anyone, anything, else. Because as far as he’s concerned, you’re the only thing that matters and vice versa.

“I love you so much, pretty. I hope you enjoy your birthday this weekend.”

“Thank you. For everything, Ji.” He smiles before kissing you once more. You turn back around to watch the performer on stage, singing and swaying along in Jisung’s arms.

“I got you, baby. ‘Til the end.”

[instantdoodlez]

Jashtober days 1-20

Alright, it's a while later than I was hoping to post it, but here it is. Same deal as the warmups, moving my art and commentary over from Twitter, because that site sucks ass <3

Day 1: Single. Didn't realize it meant like.. a music single until the day of, so it's pretty basic. Got a Mr Jash Like ™️ though, so that was a strong start to the project.

Day 2, Astral. Space themed Soul drawing. Soul is the Stars in my hc (the way that Mind is the sun and Heart is the moon in canon), so I figured it would fit well enough.

Day 4, Light. Nothing to really say on this one. (skipped day 3 since it was a duplicate prompt, 'power hour')

Day 5, Angel. My best try at what the angel at the gates in Chonny's inferno looks like. Biblically accurate because it's just cooler. Meant to add a normal-ass clipboard in their hand for the funny, but I forgot.

Day 6, Forest. Dear god, the background on this one killed me. Took many layers and overuse of the blend tool. On another note Mr Jash liked the post on twitter and that, yet again, jumpscared me (This is a pattern /lh)

Day 7, Moss. The little mushrooms were my favorite part to do. Didn't know I would ever call fungi cute, but the little mushrooms were my favorite part to do. Proud of this one overall. And it got Jash liked as well, so! 🎉

Day 8, Tidal. Jesus, did all my ship of theseus drawings do relatively bad in the algorithm. Anyways, this one was based on the fifth ship of theseus. Very pretty color pallete, cool colors.

Day 9, Cruisin'. This one was posted late because I couldn't get the shading right and just left it for the next day. Looks much better now.

Day 11, 8-bit. Dug out my old pixilart account to make this one. (Skipped day 10 because "apathy, haha funny". Also to help stave off burnout)

Day 12, Haiku. Heart coming up with his magnum opus (that line from Haiku/lh). This one's background took forever. Many different layers.

Day 13, Encore. Drew The Announcer, everyone's favorite eldritch horror story narrator. Props to GW for making me actually like Monster Mash, I don't even mind the original one now. Mr Jash liked this one too, so that's nice :]

Day 14, Reflection. Whole with a scribbled out face… cool design, and pretty visually interesting. Happy with this one. It also got jash liked.

Day 15, Momento. Had a hard time drafting this one before I realized "oh.. momento.. like.. momento mori.. I am very dumb". Regardless, very happy with this one. It's probably my favorite out of all the jashtober drawings I've done.

Day 17, Theseus. Based on the first Ship of Theseus song, a drawing of the shipmaker. (Skipped day 16 because it was another repeat prompt, Hindsight)

Day 18, Sunset. Based on the lines "When I woke it was daylight, and the clouds were pink / The sun was coming up or going down, I think" from Drink to Death.

Day 19, Savages. The crowd sure does love an upset.

Day 20, Crowned. Mind. Wanted to add a nightlight in the shape of the sun but the composition got too crowded, so I compromised with the lamp chain.

And, that's it! All 17 prompts I've done so far. I'll continue posting the rest of the Jashtober prompts one by one on here. Have a good day/night, and thank you for reading this far if you have!

[aifanfictions]

Write a story about (y/n) being the Phantomhive maid who helps Ciel and Sebastian with their cases and after going to the undertaker for information, Undertaker starts to slowly fall in love with (y/n)

Whims of the Reaper

In the grand halls of the Phantomhive Manor, (Y/N) continued her diligent work as the ever-graceful maid of the distinguished household. Each day, the bond with Ciel and Sebastian grew stronger, and her efficiency in managing the grand estate reached new heights. But, little did she know, the eccentric storm was brewing, ready to unravel the calm of her structured life.

The peculiar tale began on a foggy evening when a case took Ciel Phantomhive, the young Earl, and his loyal demon butler, Sebastian, to the Funeral Parlor run by the enigmatic Undertaker. The mortician had an unyielding fascination with death, and his macabre sense of humor was as peculiar as his profession. As they stepped into the dimly lit parlor, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel a shiver down her spine. The Undertaker's peculiar aura was impossible to ignore.

Undertaker emerged from the shadows with a dramatic flair, a morbid chuckle escaping his lips. His eyes, the color of a stormy sea, gleamed with twisted interest as he welcomed his guests. "Ah, young Phantomhive and Sebastian! What brings you to my humble establishment today?"

With an air of mystery and mischief, Ciel explained the nature of their case, and Undertaker was immediately engrossed. His odd commentary, a unique blend of the morbid and the surreal, left (Y/N) both intrigued and baffled. Her wide eyes darted from Undertaker to her young master and his butler, trying to make sense of it all.

As the conversation continued, Undertaker's fascination with their case was overshadowed by his growing intrigue in the unassuming Phantomhive maid. (Y/N) stood near the door, her presence both calm and bewitched by the eccentricities she was witnessing.

Undertaker couldn't help but be drawn to her. There was something about the way she furrowed her brow at his oddities, her innocence contrasting his morbid world. He longed to unravel the mysteries of her heart just as he did with the souls that came into his care.

When the business was concluded, Ciel and Sebastian prepared to leave. Undertaker's eyes, however, were no longer on the Phantomhive Earl but on the Phantomhive maid who stood near the door.

Approaching (Y/N), he leaned closer, his breath chillingly cool on her ear. "You, my dear, are not like the others who grace my parlor. You see, I find your innocence utterly captivating."

(Y/N) blinked in surprise, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Thank you, sir, but I must be going now."

Undertaker's laughter danced with an eerie melody. "Oh, my dear, I hope to see more of you in the future. There is something truly delightful about your presence amidst all this death."

As (Y/N) stepped out of the Funeral Parlor, she couldn't shake the feeling that Undertaker was unlike anyone she'd ever met. His eccentricity and morbid fascination were a stark contrast to the life she led at the Phantomhive Manor. Yet, there was a curiosity in her heart, a yearning to understand the mysteries that lay beneath his peculiar exterior.

Unbeknownst to (Y/N), Undertaker's interest in her had awakened a dormant side of his own heart. His fascination for death and the unknown was slowly eclipsed by a desire to understand the living, to grasp the complexities of human emotion, and to delve into the enchanting depths of (Y/N)'s soul.

As the days passed, (Y/N)'s encounters with Undertaker became more frequent. His visits to the Phantomhive Manor, each more eccentric than the last, would soon become a peculiar routine. His fondness for tea parties, during which he regaled (Y/N) with tales of the dearly departed, gradually transformed into moments of lighthearted banter and shared laughter.

The Phantomhive household watched with varying degrees of amusement and concern as Undertaker, the eccentric mortician, attempted to court the Phantomhive maid with a perplexing mix of macabre curiosity and eccentric charm. While Ciel and Sebastian were ever watchful of the maid's safety, they couldn't deny the curious bond that seemed to be forming.

Undertaker's heart, hidden beneath layers of eccentricity and morbidity, began to beat in a way it hadn't for centuries. And for (Y/N), the journey was equally baffling and captivating, as she found herself inexplicably drawn to the reaper whose world was as mysterious as the afterlife itself.

Each tea party with Undertaker brought new tales, bizarre stories that ranged from tragic to utterly absurd. They reveled in laughter, the distinct camaraderie growing between the reaper and the maid, both trapped in a dance of eccentricity that only they could understand.

Yet, there was something that Undertaker couldn't quite put into words. A feeling that defied logic, a longing that went beyond the realm of morbid fascination. He found himself entranced by the way (Y/N) would touch her fingers to her lips when she was lost in thought, or the way her eyes sparkled with innocence when she found his bizarre tales amusing.

His attraction to her was a complex tapestry of desire and intrigue, woven with the threads of both life and death. He couldn't help but wonder what it was about her that had captured his reaper's heart.

(Y/N) too found herself intrigued by the peculiar reaper. She had never met anyone like Undertaker, whose eccentricity was a stark contrast to the rigid world she had known. His stories, while bizarre, held a unique charm, and she couldn't help but feel a strange fondness for the mortician who found delight in death.

Yet, as Undertaker slowly unraveled the enigma that was (Y/N), he couldn't help but wonder if there was room in his heart for a love that was as unconventional as he was. As the days turned into weeks, his courtship of the Phantomhive maid took on a new dimension, a blend of eccentricity and longing that defied the boundaries of life and death.

As the eccentric reaper and the charming maid embarked on this peculiar journey of affection, the Phantomhive Manor witnessed the unfolding of a love story unlike any other. The grand halls that once echoed with secrets were now filled with the whimsical laughter of a reaper who danced with the living and a maid who dared to uncover the mysteries of the afterlife.

And so, amidst the eccentricity and the enigma, Undertaker and (Y/N) were drawn into a love that was as peculiar as it was profound. It was a tale of fascination, an eccentric affection that challenged the conventional understanding of love, and it would continue to unfold with each bizarre tea party and every morbidly delightful encounter.

In the grand halls of the Phantomhive Manor, where secrets and enigmas abounded, the most unconventional love story was in the making, and it would continue to unravel with each tea party, every eccentric tale, and every moment of laughter that defied the boundaries of life and death.

NOTE! This story was generated by OpenAI

[sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine]

Hide-n-Seek

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader Word Count: 3.9 K CW: 18+, minors DNI. (spoilers) fake weapons, tight spaces, alcohol consumption, minor character minor injury, some steaminess, but no smut (in this part). {Author Commentary: Here's my (belated) Halloween party fic! I hope it can offer a pleasant distraction. Here's an 80s/90's music playlist I listened to, to give the party vibes. I still ended up writing myself into a part two, oops. I hope you all find this brief trip (back) in the closet enjoyable. (tell me you laughed.)}

“Because the 80s just understood horror. The 80s were the HIGHT of horror-”

“Josh might argue that with you, but I see the vision…”

You stood next to your friend at her kitchen island, looking out at the gaudy Halloween decor expertly placed in every corner, and along every wall. The atmosphere was made complete by a series of alternating colored lights, and scattered light-up decorations, beaming through the generally dark apartment, -and a booming 80s rock/ballad playlist. It really did feel like a movie.

Because you’d had work that day, you’d arrived a bit later than some, but not the majority. Some friends had arrived early to set up, and others to help each other finish assembling their costumes. The energy was immaculate as you’d strutted in in your costume. The lights were already down, the music loud, and your friends had turned from pouring their drinks in the kitchen to greet you jovially, and squeal in support as you gave a twirl.

A ‘Huntress’ was the title you’d officially given your costume, though it wasn’t based on a particular franchise character, just a high fantasy concept you liked. You’d landed on a long, dark green dress, with high, high slits up both thighs, a fitted bodice, and draped sleeves that hung around your arms in a goddess-esque fashion leaving your shoulders bare. Of course, the key accessory was a faux gold archer’s bow that you wore over your shoulder, cross-body style, and a quiver of arrows ‘-a clever disguise for a purse-’ , all complimented by your smokey metallic eyeshadow, delicate gold hair jewelry, and body chains. You loved Halloween, and your friends knew to expect nothing less than an all-out costume. 

You’d joined them in the kitchen to secure your first drink of the night. As you were laughing along and adding a silly eyeball candy and gummy worm garnish to your drink. Another gaggle of people exited the bathroom down the hall. Amid the mixed chatter you heard Jake’s distinctive soft rasp, laughing in mock distress “no, really- I think it’s enough- please let me go free- this outfit doesn’t even require makeup-” and a responding laugh “Yeah, but of all the days to wear makeup- how could you deny me??” Your other friend, a big makeup enthusiast, and nothing short of an artist, followed him down the hall, giving him a playful shove. 

The group all ended up in the kitchen, to refresh their drinks. “Oh yay!!” they welcomed your new presence, and you mutually geeked over each others’ costumes. “You two!” The host jokingly huffed, gesturing with her raised glass between you and Jake, who was in the corner, filling a flask he’d pulled from his pocket, avoiding the swarm of welcomes, “Leave it to you two to go the hardest, in your own fucking direction.” You and Jake took in each other’s costumes, laughing along. They were certainly of a similar genre, and in sharp contrast to the general decor. 

His knight costume consisted of a shiny silver gorget and pauldrons, adorning his chest and shoulders, and a chainmail mesh top that barely covered his midriff. One of his beloved swords was secured by a leather belt on top of his dark, drapey, high-waisted trousers which were cuffed just over his signature boots. Your eyes made their way back up, smirking again at his midriff, before properly seeing his eyes. They had the faintest smudge of charcoal grey concentrated around his water line, expertly blended out by your friend to be almost unnoticeable, blending seamlessly to the faintest shift of iridescence around his eyes and the highlights of his face. It didn’t even register as makeup, alongside his already distinguished features, and long half-waved hair, it simply enhanced his mystical aura, making him look like a character from a fantasy game. 

He grinned after giving you another once over while screwing the top on his flask and slipping it in his pocket.

“Damn, maybe I should’ve let her go full smokey eye on me, if im up against you” He made his way around the kitchen island to properly greet you in a half-hug, careful not to spill the drink in your hand. 

“Hmm, are you sure you’d want to compete with me?” You narrowed your eyes in a playfully challenging way.

His smirk twisted to the side before he deftly slipped your drink from your hand and took a sip. 

“Mm. Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

He returned the drink to you, drying his mustache with his free hand before giving your arm a final squeeze with the other and following the crowd to the living room. You laughed and shook your head, turning back to your friend who was hosting. 

“Damn, he’s really dialed up to 11 tonight.” You chuckled, glancing back towards him before making your way to the buffet covered with snacks. Your friend just raised her eyebrows and smirked at your turned back. You stocked up a little plate of snacks before the two of you went to find a comfy seat among your friends in the living room as the apartment filled with people.

Several hours, and many rounds of drinks later, you were sat in an armchair, almost falling over the arm in an enthused conversation with a friend of a friend you had recently bonded with over an underrated album preference ‘-and a decent level of tipsyness.’

You paused as you heard a group of people enthusiastically cheering. You looked up at the group as the host stepped toward the middle of the living room.

“Ok, party people! Who’s ready… for Hide-n-Seek?”

Normally getting a group of adults to play Hide-n-Seek would be a hard sell, but the energy in the room was just right, and loud cheers could be heard from around the apartment. The host announced she’d be seeking first, and that would be starting “riiiigghhhhht.. Now.” with a clap of her hands and som gleeful shrieks, people began darting around. The apartment was nice, thanks to her success in the arts. It had multiple floors, and even guest rooms, perfect for a game like this. You giggled to yourself after waving to the person you’d been talking to and scurrying off to find a spot. You made your way upstairs, as many others had. At the third and final landing, facing down the hallway of the smaller third floor, you saw a double-door closet but walked right by it. ‘Wayyy too obvious.’

You passed a bathroom and heard some muffled giggling. You made your way to the spare bedroom at the end of the hall. You opened it and instantly heard a yelp. You quickly stepped back into the hall, slammed the door closed in front of you, sparing the blur of two people, that had apparently been making out in the room. You backed away from the door, giggling and covering your reddening face. “So sorry!”, you called before making your way back down the hall. The seeker’s countdown was already nearly over, causing you to quickly settle for the closet.

You suddenly realized your drink was still on the coffee table in the living room. However, ywour thoughts of sneaking down to get it were cut short. You heard footsteps climbing the stairs, and you instantly felt crestfallen, knowing it was likely the seeker, and of course, if they came to this floor they’d be checking the closet first. You found yourself holding your breath as the footsteps approached. One of the doors creaked open, and you were ready to let out a defeated groan when a finger pressed softly to your lips. Your eyes widened as a grinning Jake stepped in. He effectively backed you into the other half of the closet as he hastily pulled the door closed behind him. Your brow creased in annoyance as you realized what was happening. You pulled his hand away, removing his shushing finger from your lips as you whispered indignantly; 

“Jake, this is my hiding spot.”

“Yeah I’m kinda surprised by that, actually, it seems kinda too obvious to be your first choice…”, he whispered, still grinning at you. You rolled your eyes, “And what? Were you too busy batting your eyelashes at someone to secure a better spot?” you snarked back at him. His eyes narrowed curiously, his smirk remaining.

“I was gonna ask what could’ve possibly stopped you from getting a good spot, but now I’m much more curious about that little statement… Why does the thought of me flirting with someone ruffle your feathers so much?”

Your face reddened, thankfully he couldn’t see it in this lighting, right? You didn’t want to validate his implication with a response. 

“Did you at least fill your flask before coming to commandeer my hiding spot?”

He smiled at you devilishly, reaching into his pants pocket and pulling it out. He unscrewed the top before handing it to you.

“How chivalrous” You took a sip, your eyes taking him in before meeting his smirk with a challenging one. “Tell me, was it customary for knights to wear eyeliner?”

“Hazards of the side gig,” he joked, “something of a habit I picked up on the last tour… and a lot of warriors historically wore face markings and stuff…” 

He unsheathed his prop sword, resting the dulled tip on the floor, striking a knightly pose; chin held high, his lips pursed slightly in the same way they often did when he was playing, and his chest puffed exaggeratedly. You giggled slightly, covering your own mouth to stifle it.

He smiled down at you, satisfied that he’d made you laugh. He let his eyes run down you slowly in the dim light. 

“And for …Archers…?” 

You were about to correct him but you inhaled abruptly as he skimmed the cool flat side of the blade along the exposed side of your upper thigh.

“Is this… ‘customary’?” His voice was still low and soft as his eyes trailed the tip of the blade.

You swallowed, looking down at the blade. His eyes flitted to yours. “It’s a prop sword, it’s not sharp, you can touch it.” He assured you. You hadn’t been worried about that, but still, the invitation intrigued you. You reached down and lifted the the tip of the sword, experimentally pressing the pad of your thumb to the thin, but inevitably dull edge.

“Hmh.”

You lifted it to your eye line, inspecting the dulled tip before pressing the pad of your thumb over it. 

“Careful now…” His voice was hushed and deep. His warm hand rested over yours, gently prying your fingers off the blade. He chuckled at you as his other hand sheathed his sword. You retrieved your hand, clearing your throat as you adjusted the string of your bow. 

“Just had to verify, I do have the superior weapon.” You shrugged one shoulder matter-of-factly.

“Pardon?” He raised an eyebrow at you, tilting his head in a challenging manner. 

You smirked, deciding to push it. “Not just in prop form,either. Swords have no range, they’re only good if you want to walk right up to your opponent.” 

“And what’s that bow gonna do for you when there’s someone right in front of you?” 

The two of you had grown closer, “Hmh, I don’t know, I’m pretty good with my hands. …And legs.” Your leg swung around to playfully hook the back of your calf around his. To your surprise his warm, calloused hand caught your leg under the knee, hiking it up so your leg hooked around his hip. The silky fabric of your skirt slid back, parting fully and leaving your entire upper thigh exposed. You’d reached for him as your balance wavered. One of your hands had grasped the back of his neck, the other landing on his waist -half of your palm met the fine chainmail, half met his warm, soft skin. He was already holding you steady though. His other arm had wrapped around you, holding the small of your back. 

“Jake- ‽” you gasped in surprise.

Your faces are now inches apart. The sound of each other's breaths become the only audible thing. A streak of golden orange light from between the double doors illuminated a segment of his face; a fanned dark eyelash, a golden streak in his deep brown iris, the peak in the bridge of his nose, and the seemingly permanent upward curl in the corner of his full lips.

“fuck-” it escaped you in a hushed exhale, though not for entirely the same reason you'd previously been whispering. Jake's head tilted ever so slightly as he took in your reaction. You gathered your wits before he could open his mouth to say anything.

“Jake. We’d be heard.” -‘Certainly not a circumstance you'd ever thought you'd have to voice that sentiment to someone.’

His smile widened, as you confirmed what you’d been considering. He pivoted smoothly till your back was pressed against the back wall of the surprisingly shallow closet. As he leaned in to speak close to your ear the side of his face brushed yours, so, so, tantalizingly.

“You don’t think you could stay quiet? Is that all you’re worried about?”

As he spoke lowly, his thumb began trailing back and forth across your thigh. A suppressed but undeniably desperate whine sounded from you. 

“If I recall,” his hand had started gliding up the back of your thigh, “you’re particularly competitive…” his grip tightened slightly, gripping the fullest part of your thigh, “and you love a challenge…”

His words trailed off as he inhaled your scent and slowly exhaled, his warm breath cascading down your neck. Your hand that had held the back of his neck now found his jaw. You urgently lifted his head so you could finally press your lips to his. God, his lips were like nirvana, full and soft, and fervently melding with yours as he kissed you.

Your hand gripped his side, pressing the chainmail into his skin momentarily before you adjusted your grip to sink your nails into the lush curve of his waist unobstructed. He hummed against your lips as his hips pressed harder into yours. Your bow pressed sharply into your upper back but didn’t register as a problem. His hand that was still resting on your lower back kept it from the wall, furthering the sweet pressure of his hips against yours.

You’d just pulled your lips from his to take a desperate breath when suddenly a tumbling crash and an obscene exclamation came from the stairs.

You both jumped apart as your heads whipped around. By the sound of it, someone had fallen down the top flight of stairs. Instinctively you both stepped through the doors to go help your friend. As you peered down the stairs, the bathroom and bedroom doors down the hall both opened and your friends poured out of their hiding spots to see what had happened.

You and Jake had made your way to the landing, urgently attempting to assist your friend who’d landed on the second floor. A gaggle of people had gathered around as they’d made their way up and down the respective staircases to the landing. Several voices called out asking what had happened, and if everyone was ok. Someone had paused the music so you called out “It’s ok, we’ve got her.” Your friend had tried waving you off saying it wasn’t bad, that she’d just slipped on a portion of the string lights that were woven between the balusters. You refused, asserting that you were going to get her some ice as soon as she got downstairs. After she’d stood up and waivered from a clear pain in her ankle, Jake eventually convinced her to let him help her down the stairs.

You watched him shift his belt so his sword was out of the way and he stooped to lift her -her arm around his shoulder, and her legs draped across his arm. He made his way slowly and steadily down the stairs. The colored lights glinted off the armor still adorning his shoulders, and his hair that fluttered behind him as he descended. ‘He really is a knight in shining armor…’. You snapped back to reality as you all got to the ground floor and Jake swiftly turned towards the couch. You headed to the kitchen and got a soft ice pack before hurrying back to the living room. Jake had set her on the couch and she was chatting and giggling with the people gathering around.

The crowd parted for you and gradually people dispersed to other areas of the room as the music started up again and the party resumed. You knelt by the couch, gingerly resting the pack on her ankle. You looked at her and shook your head with a light laugh. “Do you have an ace bandage or something? This is gonna need some compression unless you want your ankle to swell up. ” She sighed exasperatedly, not one to accept doting. “Yeah, it’s in the bathroom cabinet.” You glanced over your shoulder at Jake, who’d stepped aside for you to apply the ice pack. “Can you grab it? And an aspirin or aleve or something.” Jake nodded and headed off.

When you looked back at your friend her eyes were locked on you. Knowingly. She broke out into giggles as you looked around curiously.

“You know… I wouldn’t judge if the two of you wanted to slip out early.”

“--What?” You practically spluttered.

“You. And Jake.” She stated she stated with a self-assured grin.

The question of how she knew formed on your face, but before you could ask she pointed to your thigh. “It left a mark.” You looked down and saw a wide pink stripe across your exposed thigh, mirroring where Jake’s sheath had pressed into it while you were against the wall. Your face instantly heated up. 

“That and the tension is THICK, tonight, like even worse than usual.”

“Usual?”

She gave you a deadpan look before chuckling again. Jake had returned with an ankle wrap, a bottle of painkillers, and a cup. “Here we are.” He handed the wrap to you with a quick smile before handing her the cup and opening the bottle, beginning to shake two pills into the cap. “Ooh, a drink?” she took it before looking into the cup and frowning. Jake just chuckled “That’s called water.” You chuckled as you gently wrapped her ankle, and secured the end. She took the pills from the cap in his outstretched hand and downed them with the water before holding the cup up to him “Now can you get us a real drink, pretty please?” 

He pursed his lips, glancing at you. You nodded and he bowed his head with a pursed smirk. “Alright, what d’you each want?” “Something strong, whatever inspires you when you get to the kitchen,” she waved him off as he chuckled and shook his head, heading for the kitchen. 

The moment he was out of earshot she locked in on you again. “I’m serious, you should give it a chance. I’ll be fiiinnne. I’ll find someone to help me to bed, -you should have him help you to bed- ” You scoffed and swatted her leg as she giggled. “Uegh, that was bad.” “Yeah, yeah, …but you’re thinking about it.” You sighed exaggeratedly. She reached for your hand and gave it a squeeze. “He’s a good one. Gallant. Noble.“, you both giggled before she continued in a genuine tone, ”And not just as a knight. I’ve known him a while, this isn’t even the first time he’s saved my ass. If you’re interested, you should go for it.” You chewed on your lip as Jake rounded the corner of the couch. He handed your friend her drink, then you yours, smiling down at you. 

“How’s our patient?” 

You couldn’t help but smile back at him. Your friend’s knee nudged you and your eyes snapped back to see hers smirking over her cup at you as she took a sip. You took a gulp of your drink -strong but sweet, perfectly blended as usual- and stood off the couch.  

“She’ll be fine.”

You took Jake’s hand and abruptly started towards the door. You could hear your friend giggling into her cup. He fell into step with you without question, despite the slight bewilderment in his face.

“-Where…?”

“We’re leaving.“ 

“Oh- good.”

You set your cup on a random surface as you grabbed your bag from the hooks in the front hall. You turned to see Jake taking a large black corduroy jacket from the front hall closet. He curled a finger around the string of your bow. “May I…?” You nodded and ducked your head as he lifted it up and off of you. You held it as he placed his jacket around your shoulders. Your eyes gleamed up at him as he straightened the collar.

“Did you drive here or-?”

“Yep.” he nodded.

“And are you…?”

He chuckled, “Yeah, I’m good to drive.”

As he closed the passenger door behind you, you marveled at the car’s interior. ‘It’s definitely vintage…’. The seats were black and teal leather, bench-style -‘maybe a Mustang, or a Camero…’. The back door on his side opened, startling you. Jake leaned in, placing his armor in the back seat. “Just me,” he reassured, “want to put that back here?”. He held out a hand for your bow, and you nodded, handing it to him. 

As soon as he settled in the driver’s seat and pulled his own door closed, you leaned over, holding the side of his face and kissing him urgently. He kissed you back, and you felt him smile against your lips. His hand turned the key and the motor rattled to life. A soft rock ballad started from the radio as he lifted his hand to mirror yours, gently cupping the side of your face. You shrugged off his coat, as the car started warming up significantly. His kiss was slow and sweet, even as you shifted to face him more fully, kneeling on the seat next to him. 

You pulled away, resting your forehead against his. 

“Mine? Or yours? Or we could just find somewhere to par-?”

“Taco Bell?”

“What?” you pulled back slightly, giggling at his suggestion. 

“Are you hungry at all?”, he offered, "I’m happy to sleep at either of ours, I just thought I’d get something to eat before we head home.” His free hand stroked your upper arm as he waited for your response. You deflated slightly as it registered. 

“You don’t want to…”

“Of course I want you,” his thrumb stroked your cheek, “but you’re drunk, darling. You don’t want it like this, trust me.”

“Why’d you agree to leave with me then?”

“Well, I’d still like to hang out with you… but if you want to be dropped off, or you want to go back into the party, that’s obviously fine too.”

You considered for a moment. Being away from the loud music and colored lights of the party atmosphere, you were acutely more aware of just how much the alcohol had caught up with you. 

“...Are tacos still on the table?” you met his eyes again.

 He nodded “Of course.” 

You grinned at each other before you leaned in and pecked his lips again. 

“...and a sleepover?”, you asked quietly.

“I’d love to.” He placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

{Thank you all for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think!}

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[kybercrystals94]

Neon Warfare

Read here on Ao3!

Summer of Bad Batch 2024 | Week 1 | Main Prompt: Water Gun Fight | Alt. Prompt: "It's not what it looks like."

Rated: G | Words: 3109 | Summary: Wrecker buys two little water guns. What's the worst that could happen?

“Hey, look at this?” 

“How much do you think something like that costs?” 

“They call that art? I’ve blown up things that ended up looking nicer than that!” 

“If we could get one of those, would you want red or blue? I know red is part of our colors, but blue is nice.”

Crosshair tries to ignore Wrecker’s incessant commentary as they cut through a district of novelty shops. Keeping Wrecker on task during slow paced missions is like herding wild tookas: impossible and incredibly annoying. 

“We’re not here to sightsee,” Crosshair finally snaps. “Are you even watching for our contact?” 

“I thought you were watching,” Wrecker says, “I’m just backup.” 

Crosshair rolls his eyes. “So help me…” 

Wrecker gasps, and Crosshair turns to see what has distracted his brother now. Small, neon colored, plastic pistols. “What are these?” Wrecker asks the shopkeep. 

“Water guns,” the man says. 

“What do they do?” Wrecker asks before Crosshair can haul him away. 

The man looks unimpressed with the question. “Shoot water.” 

“They’re so tiny,” Wrecker croons. “You just fill ‘em with water? Simple as that?” 

“Simple as that.” 

“Wrecker, come on,” Crosshair growls. 

“They’re on sale, two for a credit,” the man says. 

“Sold!” Wrecker whips a credit out of nowhere, drops it in the vendor’s waiting hand, and snatches up a green and a pink pistol from the basket. 

It takes every shred of patience for Crosshair to keep his mouth shut until they move away from the cart. “Put your toys away, we’re busy,” he hisses. 

“We’re always busy,” Wrecker says, ignoring him as he fiddles with the tiny orange stopper at the top of the pink pistol. Once he dislodges it, he hands the green pistol to Crosshair. “Hold this.” 

“I’m not holding your toys!” Crosshair cries, taking the pistol anyway. 

Wrecker gets out his canteen and tries to delicately dribble a stream of water into the hole at the top of the gun. Most of the water ends up in a puddle on the ground. 

“I’m not sharing my canteen with you when you’re thirsty later,” Crosshair mutters. 

Wrecker either doesn’t hear him or doesn’t care. “There!” he says, triumphantly, poking the stopper back into place. Before Crosshair can react, Wrecker points the gun at Crosshair and pulls the trigger. A spurt of water splatters harmlessly across Crosshair’s visor. 

He’s annoyed nonetheless. “Ugh! Grow up, Wrecker!” 

“Here,” Wrecker says, unperturbed, reaching for the green pistol, “let’s fill yours up.” 

“It’s not mine!” Crosshair says, thrusting it into Wrecker’s hand. 

“Sure it is! I bought it for you.” 

“I don’t want it.” 

Wrecker’s shoulders slump. “Aw, c’mon, Cross. You’re no fun.”

“We’re not here to have fun. We’re here on a mission. Now, put your kriffing toys away.” 

Crosshair starts walking, and hears Wrecker start trundling along behind him. And then he feels it. Something wet on the back of his neck.

“Ha! That was a good shot!”

Crosshair sighs. This is going to be a long patrol. 

*

Surprisingly, Wrecker seems to lose interest in the water guns the moment they come within sight of the Marauder. He shoves them in one of his pockets and goes about his chores without a word about his newfound toys that he’d been harassing Crosshair with nonstop. 

Crosshair isn’t complaining. Maybe the stupid water guns will be forgotten, lost in a crate somewhere…or found by a certain sniper and shot out the airlock while in deep space. 

However, Crosshair’s hopes are dashed when he opens his firepuncher case the next cycle and finds that someone has put a neon green water gun inside. A torn piece of flimsi is folded beside it. Crosshair picks it up and opens it. Got plan. Practice. Secret. - W. 

Shaking his head, Crosshair picks up the tiny pistol. He can tell by the subtle weight that Wrecker has already filled it with water. With a scoff, he aims idly at a bolt in the wall and shoots. The spurt of water misses by at least nine centimeters to the left. Crosshair’s jaw drops. He missed? He adjusts the pistol in his hand. Shoots. Five centimeters too low. 

Crosshair swears under his breath. 

Squirt, squirt, squirt, squirt…

Miss, miss, miss, miss…

He’s about to throw the water gun across the ship when a rumbling voice says behind him. “Harder than it looks, huh?” 

Wrecker’s pink water gun appears in his hand, comically miniscule in his massive fingers. He aims for the exact bolt Crosshair was aiming for. 

Direct hit. 

Crosshair actually chokes on his gasp of shock. He’s coughing so hard that Hunter comes back to check on them, Wrecker slapping Crosshair on the back as if that’s gonna do anything to help.

“Everything alright?” Hunter asks. 

Wrecker grins. “Yeah, he’s just fine, sarge.”

Hunter quirks an eyebrow at Crosshair, and Crosshair can only nod. With one last bewildered look, Hunter retreats back to the cockpit. 

“That’s why you gotta practice,” Wrecker says loftily. “Otherwise, I’ll just be a better shot than you with a water gun.” 

Crosshair glares at his largest brother, seeing the shameless goading for exactly what it is. And yet, he will not be outdone by Wrecker, not even with a stupid little toy water gun. “Oh, you’re on.” 

*

Echo is tracking their flight plan when he hears Wrecker start sniffling behind him. He ignores it. 

“Sure is dusty in here,” Wrecker comments offhandedly. 

“Whatever you say,” Echo mumbles. 

More sniffling. “My nose sure feels funny. It’s like a sneeze is stuck in there.” 

Echo grunts in vague sympathy. 

Then comes the shuddering breath of an attempted sneeze, loud and exaggerated…and prolonged. 

“For force sake, Wrecker, if you’re gonna sneeze, sneeze!” 

“ACHOO!” 

Wet droplets shower the back of Echo’s neck. His reaction is immediate. “Wrecker! Did you just sneeze on me?” Echo squawks, standing and whirling on the giant. 

Wrecker doesn’t look the least bit ashamed. In fact, he looks alarmed and frantic as he tries to shove something bright neon pink in his pocket. Echo is faster when he’s annoyed or angry, and it pays off now. He snatches the mystery item out of Wrecker’s hand. A tiny, cheap water pistol. 

“You shot me with this and made me think you sneezed on me?” Echo demanded. “That’s disgusting!” 

“It’s called a prank,” Wrecker says, sounding offended by Echo’s evident lack of humor. 

Echo rolls his eyes. “A childish prank.” 

“It’s called fun,” Wrecker says, holding out his hand. “Now give it back. I still need to shoot Hunter and Tech with it.”

“Do you honestly think that’s going to end well?” Echo asks, deadpan. 

Wrecker smiles. “Not sure, but I’m willing to find out.”

Echo hesitates, weighing his options. If he returns the kriffing toy and Wrecker pranks Hunter and Tech with it, Echo risks being called complicit in the crime. 

If he keeps the toy…

“C’mon, Echo,” Wrecker whines, making a grabbing motion with his outstretched hand. “It’s water. It’s not like it’s gonna hurt them.”

The manchild does have a point. 

Echo sighs. “Fine. But so help me, you shoot me again with this thing, I’ll send it out the airlock.” 

Wrecker grins almost apologetically and snatches the toy up the moment it’s placed in his hand. “Ah, it was a good prank. You can’t actually be mad.” 

He’s not, but Echo narrows his gaze anyway. “You wanna bet credits on that?” 

“Fine! I won’t shoot you with water again,” Wrecker grumbles, folding his arms, hiding the water gun from view. Echo shakes his head and turns back to finish his calculations. He chooses not to react when Wrecker mutters, “Killjoy.”

*

Hunter is on the very cusp of sleep on one of the bunks when something hits the side of his face. Something cool and wet. He jerks awake with a gasp, hand flying up to touch where the attack occurred. His glove comes away damp. Turning, he sees Crosshair, polishing his rifle. 

“What was that?” Hunter demands. 

Crosshair looks up. “What?” 

“Someone splashed me with water,” Hunter says. 

“Someone splashed you with water,” Crosshair echoes. He rolls his eyes. “Sure they did.” 

Hunter glares at him. “You did it.” 

“How?” Crosshair asks. 

“Easy. You threw water at me.” 

“Where did I get this water?”

“Your canteen.” 

“Does it look like I have a canteen on me?” Crosshair asks, glancing around himself pointedly. “Maybe you’re just imagining things.” 

“My glove is literally damp!” 

“Maybe it’s sweat. Between that mop you call hair and that bandana, you must be roasting alive.” 

“I’m not sweating!” 

Crosshair shrugs, returning to his task. “Whatever you say.” 

Hunter watches him a few more moments before he closes his eyes, keeping his head turned toward his brother, and tries to resume his nap. 

Another water strike, square in the middle of his forehead. Hunter’s eyes fly open, and Crosshair is still there, not looking at him, polishing his rifle with the same leisurely ease as before. 

“You did it again!” Hunter cries, sitting up. 

Crosshair meets his gaze. “What are you on about? I didn’t do anything!” 

“Yes you did! You’re the only one in here! There’s no other explanation!” 

“How the kriff did I do it then? Explain it to me!” 

Hunter grits his teeth. He can’t explain it. But he knows it’s true. “You’re the one doing it, so you tell me!” 

“I’m not doing anything! I’m cleaning my rifle. Maker!” 

Hunter stands up. “You know you’re the worst sometimes?” 

“So I’ve been told,” Crosshair muses, going back to his task.

Hunter starts to storm to the cockpit when something hits the back of his head. He whirls around and Crosshair is still at work, an almost imperceptible smirk twitching at the edge of his lips. Hunter growls a curse under his breath before making his retreat. 

*

“What are you doing?” 

Wrecker and Crosshair startle and look up to find Tech standing over them. The casings of two water guns are on the floor between them, taken apart, amongst a plethora of spare parts from Tech’s stash for his projects. A stash he has very deliberately told his brothers not to touch without express permission. 

And neither of the clones in front of him had any such consent.  

“It’s not what you think,” Wrecker says. He has the decency to sound guilty.

Tech frowns. “What I think is that you are modifying toy pistols using my personal collection of parts.” 

Crosshair shrugs. “Then it’s exactly what you think.” 

“Put the parts back immediately! They are meant for serious projects, not hobbies.”

“Ah, c’mon, Tech,” Wrecker complains, “this isn’t just a hobby. It’s for science.” 

“How so?” Tech asks, unimpressed. 

Crosshair holds up a data pad with crudely designed schematics. “We’re going to increase the weapons’ accuracy by approximately one hundred and five percent.” 

Tech takes the data pad and examines the modifications. “No you are not.” 

“Why?”

“Because I am not giving permission to use my parts for these modifications. Give them back.” 

“Maker, Tech, don’t be stingy,” Crosshair protests.

“It is not being stingy to say that these parts are for specific purposes. Not a single one of those purposes include water guns. Put them away.” 

“Or what? You’ll tell Hunter on us?” Crosshair snarks. 

Tech glares. “You are being immature.” 

“Fine!” Crosshair says, “We’ll put your precious parts away. We don’t need them.” 

Wrecker frowns. “Yeah, we do.” 

“No, we don’t,” Crosshair says. He scoops up the spare parts and dumps them back in their box. He hands the box over to Tech, now a jumbled mess to be sorted. 

“You are behaving like a juvenile,” Tech says irritably. 

Crosshair smiles, but there is no friendliness in the gesture. “Oh, you haven’t seen juvenile yet.” 

“Is that a threat?” Tech asks. 

“Of course not,” Crosshair says, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “Just something to think about.” 

*

Tech calls a meeting between himself, Echo, and Hunter, closing the cockpit door while Crosshair and Wrecker are distracted with cataloging inventory. At least, that is what they said they were doing when they disappeared into the upper hold. 

“Something has to be done about Wrecker and Crosshair,” Tech says. 

“What do you mean?” Hunter asks. 

“Are you talking about their stupid little water pistols?” Echo asks, rolling his eyes. 

Hunter’s jaw drops. “That’s how Crosshair got me!” 

“And Wrecker got me,” Echo says. 

“I caught them trying to modify them to have better accuracy,” Tech says. “I stopped their attempt, but it is only a matter of time before they find alternate means.” 

“I told Wrecker if he shoots me with water again, I’ll send his water gun out the airlock,” Echo says with a shrug. “I say we follow through.” 

Hunter shakes his head. “No. We should fight fire with fire.” 

“Water with water, as it were,” Tech chuckles. 

“Please no,” Echo entreats. “Let’s end this before it gets out of hand.” 

“I’ve been doing some research,” Tech says, bringing out his data pad. “I believe I have found the perfect solution.” 

****

“We have four standard hours of shore leave,” Hunter says, “That means you’re all back to the ship in three and a half. Got it?” 

“Yes, sir,” Crosshair snarks with a lazy salute. He and Wrecker saunter off, leaving Hunter, Echo and Tech without a backwards glance. 

Once they are out of earshot, Hunter turns to Tech. “You got those coordinates?” 

“Affirmative,” Tech says, pulling up the directions on his data pad. 

“Are we really going to spend hard earned credits on water guns?” Echo asks.

Tech frowns. “These are not simply water guns, Echo. They are classified as super soakers.” 

“Cross and Wrecker won’t know what hit them,” Hunter murmurs almost gleefully. 

“Do you even hear yourselves right now?” Echo cries. 

Hunter ignores him. “We need to head out. We have to be back here and in position before the targets return.” 

Echo rolls his eyes, but follows Tech and Hunter anyway. 

*

They turn more than a few heads when they walk into the toy store; however, Crosshair ignores the incredulous stares of the other patrons. He walks straight to the counter, Wrecker at his shoulder. “We had an order for pickup,” he says.

“Sure, what’s the name?” the clerk asks. 

“Crosshair.” 

The clerk disappears into the back room and returns with two packages. “Two special order water guns?” 

The burning sensation of embarrassment creeps up the back of Crosshair’s neck. “Yes,” he says. 

“Aw, yeah! I can’t wait to try ‘em out,” Wrecker crows. 

“Can you be quieter,” Crosshair hisses at him. 

The clerk rings up the order and accepts the payment before relinquishing the packages to the soldiers, fully armored sans helmets. Wrecker takes them both eagerly, tucking them under one arm. They leave the shop and nearly collide with three more armored figures about to walk in. 

“What are you doing here?” Hunter demands. 

“Nothing!” Wrecker cries, sounding panicked, shoving the packages behind his back. 

“We could ask you the same thing,” Crosshair counters. 

Hunter crosses his arms. “We were following you.”

“Why?” 

“We’re suspicious.” 

“Of what?” 

“Of what you’d be getting from a toy store.” 

“How did you know we were coming to a toy store?” 

Hunter doesn’t have a comeback for that, and changes the subject. “What did you get?” 

“Nothing,” Wrecker reiterates guiltily, “It’s a surprise.” 

Tech adjusts his goggles. “Which is it? Nothing or a surprise?” 

“How about,” Crosshair says, stepping in front of Wrecker, “none of your business.”

“This is ridiculous,” Echo grumbles.

Crosshair reaches back and grabs Wrecker’s arm. “C’mon. We’re leaving.” Dragging Wrecker behind him, he shoves through the suspicious trio. 

“See you lot back at the ship,” Hunter calls after them. 

“Not if we see you first!” Wrecker hollers back. 

“Shut up!” Crosshair growls. “This is bad enough as it is.” 

*

They watch until the suspicious duo disappear into the crowd. 

“Those packages were definitely within the dimensions of super soakers,” Tech says. 

Hunter nods. “We should have known they’d do something like this.”

“We’re doing something like this!” Echo exclaims. “I never asked to be part of this. I’m never going to be dry again!” 

“Stop whining, Echo,” Hunter says, opening the door of the shop. “It’s three versus two. We’ve got the advantage. They might have started this, but we’re going to end it.” 

*

When they return the Marauder, the ramp is down, but it is quiet. Too quiet. Hunter holds up a fist, and Echo and Tech immediately stop short. Hunter’s eyes rove over the ship’s exterior. 

“Are we within range?” he asks Tech, a whisper over his shoulder. 

“If Crosshair is positioned on top of the ship, affirmative. He will have gravity on his side.” 

Echo groans. “Need I remind you all that we are in public?”

“We split up,” Hunter says, voice low, gripping his colorful weapon and holding it in ready position. “Circle the ship.” 

Echo sighs and takes the left side while Tech goes right. Hunter bravely takes center. He barely makes it four steps forward before he is hit in the face with a stream of water. 

And that’s when all hell breaks loose. 

*

No one says anything until the Marauder is settled in a hyperspace lane. The only sound is the hum of the ship and the faint sound of water dripping off five drenched commandos. 

Until… 

“They had no right to confiscate our weapons!” Wrecker grouses. 

Echo huffs. “It was that or the city putting in an official complaint with the GAR.” 

“I find it a little extreme to be prohibited from an entire planet. No one was injured,” Tech says. 

“Crosshair shot a child point blank with a super soaker and made them cry,” Echo points out. 

Crosshair chuckles darkly. “In my defense, I thought it was Hunter. They were similar heights.” 

Hunter scoffs. “You are such a liar.”

“Wait, who was it that then shot an officer sent to investigate the disturbance?” Crosshair asks, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “Oh, yes. It was Hunter. That’s what got us in real trouble.”

“Now wait a minute,” Hunter starts indignantly. 

Echo stands up. “I just want to go on the record and say I didn’t want to be involved in any of this!”

“This is true,” Tech agrees, “Although you are the one who soaked the second officer.”

“That was an accident.”

“That’s not how the officer saw it.” 

As the bickering escalates, Crosshair catches Wrecker’s eye and holds out his hand, mostly fisted, but open enough that the demolitions expert sees a glimpse of pink and green. He grins, looking back at Crosshair. Crosshair puts a finger to his lips. Wrecker nods. 

The war is far from over. 

END

Finally got my first prompt fill done for my own prompt event 😂 It's been an absolute joy and delight to see all the fills so far! I dedicate this story to @just-here-with-my-thoughts' kiddo 😉 A lot of work went into getting this prompt in the top 13 🤣

12 more weeks of Summer of Bad Batch!! Can't wait!!

✨Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!✨

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @nagyanna424 @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb @maeashryver

[vindelllas]

the astrological implications of "lookalikes" and nakshatra characteristics - the dualistic nature of rahu and shani🪞

💎 in the seemingly constant conquest for people to find their dominant grahas within their birth chart, it is often helpful for people to compare their morphological features to that of celebrities who share their primary placements. many celebrities often dawn similar faces to their red carpet counterparts which is no coincidence. i have included a few of the ever-increasing physical similarities witnessed among celebrities below and commentaries on what contributes to their facial appearances. this should serve as subtle introduction to a morphology- and fashion-based series i hope to develop within the next year or so. as an additional thank you to the now 5,000 of you, i am also offering 20% off on my cosmetic cosmological readings and vedic reading bundle for the next week. thank you for all of your amazing support and i am beyond excited to witness the growth in people learning about vedic astrology and religion as a whole.

above lies a personal interpretation of mine on the grahas and how they relate to stylistic and morphological essence that i find will be helpful for understanding this post and more posts to come:

🪞 zoë saldana (left) and thandiwe newton (right)

saldana is mrigashira surya (tightly conjunct buddha), pushya lagna (tightly conjunct shukra), and anuradha chandra native. whereas, newton has a swati surya and swati (or vishakha) chandra. the only direct similarity between both women is both were born on monday (the day of the moon) and within their chandra mahadasha which can subtly increase their lunar inclinations.

while both celebrities do not have specific astrological rashis in common, there is a subtle nuance that lies within their astrological compatibility. saldana is extremely dominant in saturnian energies and newton is likely extremely dominant in rahuvian energies. shani and rahu natives are often mistaken for one another due to their similar properties. think of the two grahas as one combined coin of governance over the instances in which define material success in one's life (such as sorrow, pain, grit, and finances). shani acts as the grounded rahu, who is slowed and wise in his pursuit towards fulfillment. whereas, the out-of-body node rahu is exploitative, hasty, and rapid in movement. both govern over the trials and tribulations we may experience in our physicality. thus, both are intricately intertwined and so are their natives.

rahuvian natives share similar features of thinned and highly-arched eyebrows (characteristic of thinner eyebrows being considered more yin in nature), less prominent noses and chins, fuller cheeks, smaller facial frames, expertly defined cupid's bow, and large eyes. whereas, shani natives share similar (if not exact) features to that of rahu but with slightly less exaggerative features erring on the side of angelic essence (yin and ethereal, otherworldly, and mystical) compared to the ingenue essence likes of rahu (decorative, cute yin)

🪞 jaime pressly (left) and margot robbie (right)

another case study of rahuvian-saturnian beauty is pressly (pushya surya loosely conjunct shani and shravana chandra) and robbie (ardra surya tightly conjunct brihaspati, punarvasu lagna tightly conjunct buddha, and swati chandra), both of which share a shani atmakaraka (the graha/karaka most indicative of oneself). both celebrities share the similar characteristics of the two grahas which highly emphasize yin-nature. the subtle essences of both graha types are analyzed below. both of which favor yin and small facial features and clothing details (such as dainty jewelry pieces, note how many of the graha natives sport blue jewelry indicative of shani's rulership) and lighter and softer features (such as bleached/highlighted hair and naturalistic, nude coloring in makeup):

rahu aesthetics: yin, but decorative small-scale yin. features flowing, rounded shapes in both anatomy and clothing-styles. small, compact figure in which natives prefer to adorn themselves with small decorations and details, such as delicate trimmings.

shani aesthetics: most yin essence of the grahas (though it flows back into yang). it is a type of yin that is ethereal in nature. natives' body type has the least concrete shape of all the essences. its silhouettes are long and flowing with draping and webbing. fine textures, as well as transparent and iridescent colours, contribute to their ethereal appearance.

🪞 sarah hyland (left) and mila kunis (right)

hyland has a swati lagna, anuradha surya tightly conjunct shukra, and dhanishta chandra loosely conjunct rahu. kunis has an ashlesha surya, anuradha lagna loosely conjunct ketu and brihaspati, and swati chandra loosely conjunct shani. despite both women being influenced by different planetary aspects (including the oppositionary ketu for kunis), you can notice yet again their saturnian (specifically anuradha) and rahuvian (specifically swati) aspects dominating both women almost entirely.

anuradha: as i spoke about in a previous post on this nakshatra, anuradha natives possess specific, bunny-like features indicative of the nakshatra's rabbit yoni. these natives often possess big, round, and bright eyes; rounded foreheads; full yet smaller horizontal surface area lips; and prominent central incisors.

swati: swati's dominance over mahamaya results in natives' face types having the same length and width dimensions. it is harmonious as a whole without any dominative unique features. they are genetically predisposed to a beautifully attractive round face with harmonic and regular proportions specifically surrounding the contour region of their face. due to the mahamaya emphasis, natives of swati have a distinct affinity for facial feminizing techniques (such as hairline modifications, jaw reduction, rhinoplasty (nose reduction), and facial lifts). note that these improvements might appear the best on these natives due to their rahuvian abundance, but natives must learn to balance this affinity for bodily modification (specifically with their nose or cheekbones) with equal bouts of self care and physical reflection.

🪞 nina dobrev (left) and victoria justice (right)

nina dobrev has an jyeshta lagna, purva ashadha surya loosely conjunct shani, and shravana chandra tightly conjunct buddha. victoria justice has a dhanishta surya, shravana chandra loosely conjunct shani, and swati lagna. both celebrities share similar venusian and saturnian undertones, yet it is likely the shravana emphasis that further adds identical qualities to both women. shravana beauty, contrarily to pushya, it is chandra-based beauty (sensual, deep yin) with saturnian undertones (ethereal yin).

chandra (a graha with emphasis on femininity)-based beauty is mature and sensual when in conjunction with shani (a graha with emphasis on traditionalized values). overall resulting in a romantic-essence beauty type: like the circular shape of a voluptuous, full moon, the romantic shravana silhouette is curvy and round, mirroring that of an hourglass. soft, flowing garments create movement in the silhouette, whereas romantic colors (that of a red and pink palette) look best on these women.

consequently, individuals with the shravana style essence tend to create an overall visual impression of sensuality and glamor. although their essence is yin, such as the ingenue, rahuvian essence, it is a mature sensuality as opposed to the cute, innocent prettiness of rahuvian natives. adjectives such as sexy, 'womanly', and glamorous can be used to describe these natives. abstractly, one can associate the shravana style/anatomical essence with the themes of luxury and indulgence. this aura specifically conjures up images of expensive jewellery, candlelit dinners, and red roses similar to the blooming nature of this nakshatra's artha purushartha and brahma trimurthi.

🪞lili reinhart (left) and brittany murphy (right)

reinhart has an uttara phalguni surya and chandra (loosely conjunct rahu) and swati lagna. whereas, murphy has an ashlesha lagna and swati surya and chandra (loosely conjunct shukra). both women share a surya atmakaraka and brihaspati amatyakaraka. yet again we see a physical example of rahu being indicative of identical similarity amongst others. this is likely due to rahu and shani (if aspecting one's surya or chandra) in one's natal chart being indicative of twins. specifically these aspects include the seventh house and bahuputra yoga. the two grahas' indication of twins can manifest one finding other non-related individuals who share an eerily similar appearance or siblings who are specifically dominant in shani and/or rahu energies looking identical despite not being identical twins. both individuals serving as seperate sides of the same cosmological coin.

also note the stylistic differences between reinhart and murphy above. murphy looks more natural in the shani-based vata colors of silvers and blues. whereas, reinhart looks absolutely gorgeous yet slightly "off" in the neon-red coloring of her dress (due to the countering pitta dosha nature of red). while reinhart may be influenced by the pitta surya via her surya and chandra, it is clear she favors vata coloring naturally. do note that vata dosha colors such as brown and grey should be avoided for those experiencing common vata-associated issues with matters such as anxiety and depression. this is why it is recommended for these natives to incorporate soft, pastel, and pale iterations of the respective colors, such as red or orange. too bright or cold colors can bring natives of this dosha more out of balance. however, white is said to have a good effect on people with a predominant vata dosha constitution. additionally, the accumulated surplus of vata dosha is well influenced by the color yellow (likely contributing to rahu and shani's favoring of blonde hair and highlights).

🪞keira knightley (left) and natalie portman (right)

knightley has an uttara bhadrapada surya (loosely conjunct buddha and shukra) and rohini chandra. portman has a rohini surya, swati lagna, and purva phalguni chandra. both were born on tuesday (the day of kuja). both women incorporate lunar romanticism but differ with their shani and rahu influences ever so slightly.

shani subtlety: a combination of of ying features and mysticism, also known as the ethereal and most yin essence. consequently, individuals with the subtlety of shani tend to create an overall visual impression of softness and otherworldliness or mysticism. although they are more feminine like the rahu and lunar essences, this is an 'old soul' kind of femininity as opposed to sensual or cute, pretty femininity. adjectives such as mysterious, ethereal, mystical, or 'old soul' can be used to describe people under this graha's influence. abstractly, one can associate the graha with the themes of mysticism and the cosmos, often conjuring up images of mythical creatures, fairies and mermaids, and the cosmos and galaxies within others.

rahu subtlety: a combination of femininity with childlike innocence and delicacy, also known as the decorative, small-scale yin subtlety. consequently, individuals with rahu subtlety tend to create an overall visual impression of youthful femininity and innocence. although this subtlety is feminine like the lunar essence, it is a childlike, innocent cuteness as opposed to the mature, sensual femininity of the lunar individual. adjectives like gentle, cute, and pretty could be used to describe natives. abstractly, one can associate rahu subtlety with the themes of innocence and youthful idealism, conjuring up images of delicate flowers.

note both natives have a rectangular-shaped face with square foreheads and jawlines. they have long, ovular faces but with angular edges. they both possess immense symmetry and harmony as seen in lunar women but their vata influences dominate this abundance with facial contouring and structural emphasis. their overall appearance is an example of vata extremism with lunar subtleties. compared to more vata-lunar natives like dobrev and justice, one can really see their morphological differences. additionally, these aforementioned planetary subtleties are also witnessed with both of the actresses careers. for example, knightley stars in more whimsical or vintage films such as "pride and prejudice", "the duchess", and "pirates of the caribbean". whereas, portman stars in more romantic, subtle thrillers that embody the purity complex seen within rahu, such as "black swan", "v for vendetta", and "leon".

🪞 zooey deschanel (left): uttara ashadha surya, chandra, and lagna (tightly conjunct buddha) born on thursday, day of brihaspati, with chandra amatyakaraka

🪞katy perry (right): swati surya and lagna (tightly conjunct buddha) and vishakha chandra (tightly conjunct shani) born on thursday, day of brihaspati, with chandra amatyakaraka

🪐 are you saturn and/or rahu dominant? have you encountered similar instances of being compared to other people or celebrities based on your physical appearance? i think it is interesting that even individuals influenced by these grahas are compared to other people more so than those who are not influenced by shani or rahu. it is likely people would suspect buddha to be involved in this phenomena. however, buddha is not implicative of identical nature, it is implicative of the flattery that lies within mimicry via emulation. this is why mercurial celebrities often undergo bodily alterations to resemble rahuvian/saturnian celebrities (such as bella hadid's cosmetic transformation into resembling carla bruni or the character elvira's direct copying of the character vampira).

🪞 jessica chastain (left) and bryce dallas howard (right)

additional examples of astrological lookalikes:

jessica chastain (anuradha lagna, rohini chandra loosely conjunct brihaspati, and uttara bhadrapada surya loosely conjunct buddha) and bryce dallas howard (revati lagna, shatabhisha surya loosely conjunct kuja and shukra, and uttara ashadha chandra). both share chandra atmakarakas.

jordin sparks (swati chandra, mula surya loosely conjunct shani, and purva ashadha lagna) and america ferrera (ashwini surya tightly conjunct buddha, anuradha chandra tightly conjunct kuja, and purva ashadha lagna tightly conjunct brihaspati)

kiernan shipka (vishakha surya and anuradha chandra) and emma watson (ashwini surya, uttara phalguni lagna, and mula chandra)

* all of these placements were found using astrotheme/.com and/or astro-charts/.com. it is important to note that some chandra (moon) placements may be off by up to 6 degrees and lagnas (ascendants/rising signs) as well, due to the fact that many websites do not have 100% accurate birth times for the given celebrities.

xoxo, angel 💋 (will be uploading part two of my buddha self care exploration soon lovelies)

[ramiecutesy22]

I illustrated 100 ASoIaF Characters

" A Song of Ice and Fire" is a series that has become rather (in)famous for its depictions of violence, and abundance of s3x scenes .and while criticism can definitely be made for these, it's important that we dont end up overlooking the important life lessons, nor end up with wrong takeaways from the story.

you see, at its very heart , i believe ASOIAF is a story of the human experience, as well as a commentary about the twisted ways of this world ( set within a fantasy backdrop). being caught in the middle of loyalties, ambition, Reputation, vengeance, culture, faith, and familial acceptance . its themes like this along with complex and relatable characters that youll pity and root for in one scene, only for you to be appalled by and flinch at in the next scene, is what i find so appealing in this series.

Spectacle, Political Intrigue and Character Drama (all present in the story too btw) aside , its a story that really makes you think ,reflect , and learn upon. and i love it for that!

so today , i just wanna show my appreciation to arguably the best aspect of this series: The Characters . for over a year now, i have made fanart for 100 characters from the series. some are major pov characters. some iterally appear for only 1 chapter. but all help bring so much depth and color to this story!

special thanks to:

@nobodysuspectsthebutterfly . your blog has been such a HUGE in help giving me inspiration and references for design and clothing . i also appreciate you reblogging art from fellow asoiaf artist to help give them a boost

@amuelia , i really love your design for Areo, and it was actually the basis for art for him! its only fitting that i give you credit

@whoknowsnugget . i was having a haaaard time coming up a pose for Asha when i first designed her, it wasnt until i saw your own fanart for her ( the one with her arms crossed while holding axes) that i finally found a fitting pose for her. because it was such a huge help, i figured i should give you credit as well!

@buildoblivionthenwewilltalk for being with the journey since last year!

and @squidprinceofwinterfell too, who is my other fellow asoiaf pal from tumblr!

..............................................................................................................................

i really hope yall like this one! i know this may really come off as unexpected, but ive actually liked asoiaf since 2018! ( with a massive revival of interest starting late 2022). as for THAT show, i have yet to watch an actual full episode yet hehe.

as for my account, let this be considered my proper comeback after months of inactivity. this project of mine played a large chunk for my absence, because i frequently get artblock coming up with a new post for every new character i make.

#asongoficeandfire #asoiafart

[rosesbxrry]

Links for Sunghoon 🔞

Warnings: this contains nsfw links and explicit commentary imagines on my end. Afab! Reader. Minors do not interact. Of course, this is all fictional and none of the materials represents them.

a/n: this a new format of writing I’ve been indulging. It’s a lot of fun to write, and a lot quicker to complete while writing my other wips. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it and definitely helps that I was working on this while they drop the concept photos for the full version 😮‍💨😮‍💨

Main masterlist

He fucks you doggy style when you wear those cute thigh high socks

Sunghoon was quivering on his knees at the sight of you in a skimpy lingerie, a baby pink color that matches the sheer thigh-high socks. His dark eyes linger at the small bows adorn at the sides, and the carnal urge to fuck you in it takes over like a wrecking ball. He’ll squeeze the flesh at the top of your socks, leaving deep crescent indents on the skin from his fingernails. “You drive me so insane, you don’t even know it.” He groans against your neck, biting and sucking hickeys on your collarbone. “You act all innocent and look so sweet, but I know what a dirty mind you really have.” Your moan loudly, clawing at his back desperately when you feel him press his huge bulge against your stomach. He hooks a finger on the top of your sock, pulling at the elastic hem before releasing it to smack on the flesh of your thighs. “You dress up like my pretty little angel just to get fucked like a whore, didn’t you?” You whimpered at how delicious the impact felt, squeezing your thighs together at the pool of wetness drenching your pussy. With a devilish smirk on his face— Sunghoon felt the insatiable hunger at how your body trembles in his arms. “Ass up and head down, doll. I’m gonna make you regret wearing something cute to make me fuck the shit out of you.”

Bending you over any surface so he can fuck you full of his cum like a toy

Your upper body is not completely rested on the table’s surface, enabling him access to your tits— pulling and pinching on your nipples as he pounds you from behind. He’ll reach out to grope your boobs, loving how it threatens to spill from his grip at how much it bounces when he thrusts his hips hard and fast. His hands will move to your love handles, hitting that spot where you scream the loudest over and over again until your head is buried deep into the table’s surface, drooling at how good his big cock was stretching your pussy. Fuck, Sunghoon can’t get enough of this view of you— making him delirious and high on pleasure, and the wet smacking that echoes heightens the tension in the room even more. “Yeah, you like that? Like how I fuck your pussy like a toy?” He’ll taunt, watching your back tense up at his words. “Oh, fuck yes—“ You drawled out, eyes rolling and back arching as you felt his fingers playing with your swollen clit. He was not gentle with the ball of nerve, swirling it back and forth with the pace of his deep thrust. “So close, I’m gonna come…..” Another reason why he loves fucking you in this position? Once he pulls out after cumming inside, he will watch with hooded eyes at how you’ll spread your legs wide for him to see his thick milky seed dripping out of your spent pussy with a proud smile.

Sunghoon likes pinning you against the wall because he wants you close to him

He likes to show off how much he can pin you to the wall with just one hand, caging you with his built body until you feel his weight envelop your whole figure. He'll kiss you sloppily on the lips, swiftly hooking one of your legs around his waist. "I wanna fuck you so bad," He pushed his hard cock into you without warning, not letting you adjust to his size as he began thrusting. "I love you so much that all I want to do is fuck this tight pussy until you can't walk." The initial pain started to wear off, allowing you to clench your walls around him every time he pulled out. “I-I love you, Sunghoon…please fuck me harder….” You gasped out. He didn't waste his time, capturing your lips again in a deep, hungry kiss that took your breath away. You wrap your hands around his neck, deepening the taste of his tongue in your mouth. He did the same, sucking on your bottom lip desperately as he secured your leg closer to his hips. Passionate tension grew immensely ravenous, a suffocating notion that only this position could grant him. Sunghoon would do anything to make love to you at such proximity— ensuring that each other's attention was pledged to this moment's shared pinnacle of pleasure.

When he notices the twitch of your expression and the way your hot walls spasm around his length, it signals him that you are close and he softly murmurs close to your ear like a lullaby. "That's it, my love. Come for me."

When his guilty pleasure is to have passionate shower sex because you feel like heaven under the water

You know, the moment he uttered those words— still standing in front of your shared apartment, a slight nod in understanding from you was aimed his way. “Join me in the shower?” Something like this was nothing unexpected from him. Sunghoon would often feel burned out from his hectic schedule, and his way of reviving his dire condition at the end of busy work day was to have each other’s naked body together— letting the hot water shed the tense muscles under his skin. “Tell me if it’s too hot,” He said from behind, wet hair sticking to his forehead. You were perched on your back against his chest, holding you firm with his hands groping to feel your ample breast. You chuckled at his doting words, especially when he was buried deep inside of you the moment you were under the water.

“I want it to be hotter, can you do that?” You push your hips back, feeling the tip of his cock kissing the deepest end of your womb. Sunghoon let out a deep moan, kissing the expanses of your neck so that his lips were melting you to the bone. “Anything for my princess.” He starts to rock his hips back and forth, the movement causing your tits to rub against the foggy glass door of the wall. Somehow, the water softened the action, yet the intensity never faltered— a slow and soft rhythm that insinuated how raw and intimate his thrust was.

He wouldn’t pull out even after finishing, basking in the after-sex glow while cock warming you until the heat becomes pleasurably unbearable.

Touching himself when he misses you a lot after being away from each other

Sunghoon is a patient man; he can wait a little while to come home and indulge himself with the help of your presence.

However, his preservation was slowly crumbling in both body and mind. Evidently, he was becoming too horny, so he took matters into his own hands while pulling out his hoodie— the one you’ll always wear around the house with nothing but a lacy underwear.

Your faint smell was still there, enticing his body that sends blood straight to his cock. Sunghoon strips down naked, laying on top of the clothing as he teasingly ruts his hips to the thought of you underneath him.

He’ll let out a sharp inhale, squeezing his eyes at the friction of the hoodie against his hard dick. He imagines you’ll warp your legs around his hips, thrusting up to meet him halfway, moaning close to his ears to go faster and harder. Your erect tits will graze on his chest, causing him to buck into the hoodie deeper, rougher.

“S-Sunnghoon! Shit, right there— hmmm!”

He was so high at the thought of you that he could envision your voice moaning his name.

Sunghoon reached up to roll a nipple between his fingertips, the sensation causing him to leak out more precum with gritted teeth. His movement starts to pick up, ecstasy overwhelming his body from the tip of his cock to his heavy balls.

He needed one more push, taking his wet cock in a fist and jerking the length while thumbing the red slit— the way you always like to play with him. Sunghoon choked on a sob, arching his back while repeating your name like a prayer, ropes of hot cum shooting up to bathe his abs with white.

With a hand over his eyes, his chest was panting with exhaustion, reminding him to borrow maybe a pair of panties from you the next time he’s away.

Permanent Taglist: open/ take this form to be added!

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[stararch4ngelqueen]

Hi! I have been obsessed with your Jason fics for a couple of days. They are just so sweet and incredible. I simply love them and I think that thanks to you I have a new comfort character 😊

I kind of had a little 🤏 anxiety attack in a situation similar to the one I am going to request yesterday. But, somehow imagining Jason recomforting me and thinking about your stories helped me to ease my mind for a while. So thank you so much 🫶🏼

If you have time and like the idea, could you make a fic in which Jason and fem!reader at a Gala in the Wayne Manor and the reader kinds of stress out because people keep asking her questions and looking at her (maybe because that it's their first event as an official couple 🤔) and Jason helps her and assures her that everything will be fine

Hope you have a good day!

Aww I’m sorry to hear that. I get those a lot with my job. Sorry it’s so short, but I hope this helps!

—

“I’ll say it as much as I have to,” Jason’s voice rumbles comfort in your ear, his hand settling snug along your back.

“You look stunning, babe. Don’t worry.”

His words became a temporary balm to your rising concerns, causing a nearly endless bubbling in your tummy.

You weren’t like this when you arrived, fiddling with the skirt of your dress in the back of the limousine. It began when you caught various flashes of photographers along the manor gates, attempting to catch evidence of tonight’s Gala attendees.

Of course, Jason’s commentary from how you’ve done your makeup, to this gorgeous… gorgeous silk dress you picked out for the event, was ever such an ego boost.

A rich, merlot color, complimenting the collar of his button up under his tux jacket. All of Gotham knew just how extravagant Bruce Wayne’s galas were, ranging from charity events to holiday celebrations.

Part of you was excited to attend, despite it being out of your comfort zone. Lots of important people, plenty of snobs looking to get on Wayne’s good side. You imagined that one scene from The Devil Wears Prada; the main character himself strolling along with an aura of charming confidence as he greeted his guests, while his sons lounge around the stairs in absolute boredom, adorned in their secretly signature colors.

Jason usually avoided these events, but just for tonight, he wouldn’t mind attending as long as had his lovely girl by his side.

The dress made you look like complete eye candy. He wasn’t afraid to say that. His girl deserved to look her best, as long as people knew who you arrived and were leaving with at the end of the night.

“What if they ask a bunch of personal stuff?”

“Tell ‘em a bunch of personal lies,” Jason shrugs. “S’what I do all the time.”

Lying seems the most reasonable. Rich, important people do it all the time. What’re they gonna do, fact check you on the spot?

“Ah ah,” he holds up a finger the second he sees your lips open, shaking his head after another sip of champagne. “Look, if they were that desperate to look for truth here, then what’s the point of secret identities?”

After nearly an hour of gentle symphonies accompanying a handful of introductions at a time, your polite smile grew a little more strained. Shaking hands of many faces you didn’t care about, politely nodding your head towards patrons you accidentally made eye contact with and so on, had you clutching Jason’s forearm just a little tighter.

He remained by your side, offering you some soda water or champagne to settle your nerves after finding you both a semi-quiet retreat in a slightly vacant corner.

You weren’t sure why your mind began focusing on the outer talk of guests around you, but you begin to hate yourself for it.

Questions varying from who you were, hushed mutters of if you were simply bribed by lavish gifts to attend. Was another son of Bruce Wayne following in his playboy footsteps, going from girl to girl?

Such comments even went as far as to compliment your hair and makeup. You even heard a woman say this shade of red didn’t suit your skin tone. What does that even mean??

Soon enough, the music grew as loud as the chatter, making your chest swell and burn with irritation for the mental overstimulation.

Jason takes a fresh drink from a tray before leading you out from the stuffy crowds, striving into the courtyard patio. A warm, natural floral breeze helps wipe your senses clean after breathing in a cloying concoction of expensive fragrances all in one room.

A few well dressed patrons were scattered about, smoking cigarettes neatly tucked in slick metal cases. Jason didn’t stop there, leading you down a short set of curved stairs leading into the gardens.

“Breathe, babe. I gotcha.” He holds your hand at first before reaching for his jacket buttons. “All this liquor didn’t get to your head, did it?”

His teasing nearly fell on deaf ears as he draped his coat over your bare shoulders, making his smile slowly fade from your silence.

“You sure you don’t just wanna dip? We can stop at a diner and tell the waiters Batman crashed our expensive, high school prom.”

“Bruce won’t get mad?” You question after a short smile, watching Jason’s lips purse with a firm head shake.

“I mean, we showed up,” Jason clarifies while balancing his empty glass along a nearby stone bench. “No one’s really telling us to stay here.”

A faint air of defeat floods your shoulders, even when your favorite person offered the solution to your anxieties. You thought you’d be more confident, holding the aura of poise and elegance so many women held at these events.

Overall, it was too much. The music, the people, the cologne.

Somehow, a late night diner sounded a whole lot better the more you thought about it. Bustling bells ringing for hot plates, palate cleansing coffee flooding your nose, greasy bacon, and orange juice lacking any expensive champagne.

“Keep that pretty head high, princess.” Jason gently gives the bottom of your chin a gentle nudge with his thumb, gifting you a handsome smile.

“You showed up, that’s all that matters. I’m proud of you.”

[lady-raziel]

Dear god I hope I'm remembering right and you play Fallout 4

Any mod recommendations?

My friend I not only play Fallout 4, play Fallout 4 a lot, but in fact play Fallout 4 to the point that thinking about this game keeps me up at night and has increasingly over time become something that has significant bearing on my real-world activities in a way that baffles and confounds. (It in fact is very beneficial to me that you, my treasured and beloved tumblr mutual, remembers me as notably being a person who cares about Fallout 4 completely unprompted.)

Anyways, here are a few mods that I tend to use most often:

Everyone's Best Friend (Dogmeat and Companion At Same Time - No Console - No Hack) at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

This is the one mod I use basically above all else, which is silly given how simple it is. Basically it just lets you have Dogmeat and another companion travel with you simultaneously, so you never have to choose between having your doggy and like, getting important relationship-building story bits and commentary on events. Also useful since it can make combat a little easier since Dogmeat also helps in fights.

Important NPC Essential Edition at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

I hate how I can meet a funny little NPC that I like a lot, assign them to a settlement, and then they get killed in some random mutant raid or whatever. This mod keeps that from happening! A win for funny little NPCs.

True Storms - Wasteland Edition (Thunder-Rain-Weather Redone) at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

This one adds cooler, more intense weather events that feel a little more immersive than vanilla edition. Definitely good for truly terrifying rad-storm experiences.

GRASSLANDS - A Fallout 4 Grass Overhaul at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

Grass! I kinda don't like how dead all the plants are since 200+ years post-apocalypse is more than enough time for greenery to return. This mod helps everything feel a bit more alive and so that it's not like the bombs just dropped like 20 years ago or something.

The Eyes Of Beauty Fallout Edition at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

This one is great for generally cooler eye options for normal colors, plus every insane color variation you can imagine. Fun for unique character design purposes!

How Convenient at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

This one gives you a set powerful weapons straight out of the Vault that normally you wouldn't be able to find until much later. I've found it most useful for repeat playthroughs where I don't want to take extra time away from whatever I'm trying to do and grind early-game stuff, and want to just be able to power through a little faster.

Dismiss Porter Gage To Any Settlement at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

If you have the Nuka-World DLC, the companion from there can only typically be dismissed to settlements in the DLC map, which is annoying if you're frequently swapping companions like I tend to. This way you can dismiss him to the same central settlement as other companions if you want to do this too.

Danse GTFO Power Armor at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

Normally you can't ask Danse to take his power armor on and off like you can do with other companions, and this quality-of-life mod allows that if you need to go somewhere and you don't want him clomping in a giant metal suit behind you.

And a few silly and fun ones that I enjoy:

Danse Danse Revolution at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

Changes the name of the laser rifle Danse gives you to Danse Danse Revolution. That's all.

Buzz Lightyear Paladin Danse at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

Turns Danse's power armor into Buzz Lightyear, and Preston Garvey's outfit into Woody the cowboy. Goofy but kinda fitting.

Star Wars - The Lightsaber at Fallout 4 Nexus - Mods and community

Adds lightsabers as craftable weapons. Not really lore compliant, but fighting in power armor with a lightsaber is sick as hell so who cares.

There are a few more I know of that are more intense story and quest-addition mods, but if you're just playing the game for the first time, they're probably best added later.

Thank YOU for asking and please feel free to send many more asks about Fallout 4. I have many thoughts, and unfortunately for the ENTIRE WORLD, I'm pretty willing to share them.

[bizarrelittlemew]

Hi. I’ve been following you for a while and I really appreciate all the OFMD gifs you make and how you add really good image descriptions. I’m pretty bad at social cues and I wanted to know if you have tips for how to thank gif makers? Do you have advice for how to word the thank you without accidentally sounding weird or rude? Is it OK for someone to thank a gif maker in their ask box if the asker doesn’t follow the gif maker? Any sort of advice like that would be appreciated, or sample scripts that are socially acceptable to send. I know gif makers work really hard and I want to say thanks without accidentally breaking unspoken social rules I don’t know about and I felt safest asking you. I hope that’s OK. Thank you very much.

hi anon 💗 first of all this is such a lovely message and sentiment, thank you 🥹 i'd say you're pretty well on your way already!

i think every gif maker i know would LOVE getting a thank you message! as you say it is hard work, and having that acknowledged will always be appreciated 💗 (no matter if you follow them or not)

here is my specific advice on how to thank gif makers:

reblog! we share the gifs we make because we want to share our love for the show/movie/actor/etc. with other people, and by reblogging, you help us do that. adding something nice in the tags, whether it's something like "this is gorgeous!" or "thank you for giffing this moment, op!", compliments on the coloring (like "love the coloring"/"wow you did such a good job brightening this dark scene!"/"these look so crisp/sharp!"), or commentary on what the gifs show (like "he looks so sad, i wanna give him a hug"/"this scene is so funny/heartbreaking/sweet"/"i never noticed this detail before"), or simply emojis (any combinations of 💖, 🫠, 🥹, 🥺, 😭, 😍 or whatever the gif makes you feel), any kind of reaction like that will be very much appreciated - for me, it's the highlight of making and sharing gifs!

as for sending an ask, i think any kind of thank you message would make gif makers extremely happy 🥹 here are some sample sentences - any variation and combination of these would be lovely to receive, i think (some ideas/options in [brackets]): "i love seeing your gifs on my dash" "thank you for [creating/posting/sharing] your gifs, they [bring so much joy/always make me happy to see]" "i love your coloring, it's so [warm/vibrant/gorgeous/bright and sharp/colorful]" "thank you for giffing [character/person/show], i really appreciate seeing gifs of [that/them]" "thank you for adding [alt text/image descriptions] to your gifs, it helps a lot!" "i really admire how [fast/talented/creative] you are at giffing" ok these are just a few ideas but i hope it's helpful! 💗

this is not a direct way of thanking gif makers (as it should be a given), but i wanna add it because it's important to me: give credit if you share our gifs in other ways than reblogging the original post. please please please do not repost/crosspost gifs without credit. if a gif maker doesn't want their gifs reposted/crossposted at all, please respect it. most, like me, will be fine with it if you credit properly. here are some ways to do that: if you want to use a gif in your own post on tumblr, you can use the Add GIF function, which automatically adds credit (and we get a lil notification), or tag the creator and/or link the original gifset in the post (e.g. "gif by @bizarrelittlemew"). if you want to post a gif to another platform, e.g. twitter, these are some examples on how to give credit: "gif by @/bizarrelittlemew on tumblr", "📸: @/bizarrelittlemew", "gif by @[twitter handle]", "gif source: [link]" and variations of these, written either in the post itself or in a reply right below. not only in the ALT text (as that is for, well, ALT text) and not by making a general note on your profile that "gifs are not my own"/"the gifs i post are from tumblr" or similar (as this won't be evident from the post itself and doesn't credit the gif maker). ok that got a bit long but hopefully it makes sense!

also, if a gifset inspires you to write meta or make your own post about what the gifset depicts, we'd also be very happy if you linked it (like "this gifset reminded me of... / made me think about...") OR simply add it in a reblog of the gifset! the exception (for me, others may feel differently) is if the meta/comment "disagrees" with the gifset, like if the gifset shows "[character] being considerate" and the comment is something like "actually, i don't think this is [character] being considerate, i think they're manipulative". then making a separate post would be more welcome (i'd personally still appreciate a link to the gifset if you were inspired by it).

something that would be rude (since you ask how to avoid that) would be somehow criticizing the gifset in the comments/tags/replies, like disagreeing with the composition (e.g. "i don't think gif number X fits with this theme"), or being negative about the editing/giving unsolicited advice (e.g. "wish these gifs were brighter/sharper" or "hey op you should make your gifs slower/faster"), or talking about how you dislike the show/movie/characters (because the gif maker will see your tags/comments and they probably made the gifs out of love for the thing). as long as you avoid that, you should be fine! 💖

once again thank you for this lovely ask and for wanting to show your appreciation for gif makers 💗

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Unwanted Attention [Hotch x Reader]

Prompt: Having to travel to the middle of nowhere Ohio for a serial killer was bad enough, add to the fact that the local LEOs are looking a little too hard at JJ, Emily, and _y/n_ was seriously testing Aaron’s resolve. Lots of protective Hotch here! This is another @imagining-in-the-margins inspired fic for her Meet Cute Writing Challenge. I’m using the dialogue prompt: “Watch where you’re going!” “… You ran into me?!”

Category: Angst/comfort - (mostly comfort I think).

Word Count: 5.8K

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence (serial killer - kills via strangulation but nothing explicit) unwanted physical touch (groping of the behind and pubic area) misogyny, sexism, the U.S. police, language, brief mention of intimacy. 

A/N: Hi friends! I am very pleased with this one. I love writing Hotch with righteous anger. It just looks too damn good on him. I also love the duality of this man because one moment he is ready to bite someone’s head off and the next he only has eyes for you and he’s checking in and feeling guilty. You could read this story as a standalone or as a prequel to my story, Life can be Terrible, but At Least You're In It. (linked). I want to shout out @criminalskies for hyping me up while writing this. Last, if you enjoyed reading this, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! - Levi 

List with all stories 

y/n = your name 

_f/c_ = favorite color 

_l/n_ = your last name

_y/h/c_ = yuur hair color 

Walnut Creek Ohio, who on the team had heard of it? Well apart from Spencer, because apparently he’d read a United States Atlas Map one night when his insomnia was bothering him, and he had retained all the information about nearly every tiny town that existed in the States. Spencer was rambling off facts about the tiny town stating, “There are 908 residents in the town as of 2017. It’s shocking that a serial killer would target such a small community where everyone has to know everyone else.” y/n, JJ, and Reid were all at the coffee station filling up cups. y/n pulled out her _f/c_ thermos. She always made sure that anyone who wanted coffee got to go first because her reusable metal container took about half the pot. y/n had finally wisened up after Emily and Spencer kept complaining about the coffee getting lukewarm, or worse, cold while sitting on the plane. Now her coffee stayed hot for hours if need be. She had bought the teammates that relied as heavily on caffeine as she did as Holiday or birthday gifts and the thermoses were stored away in one of her closets of her apartment, ready to be taken out and wrapped at the right moment. Spencer’s comment pulled her back to the present moments and she replied, “Nothing can stop a person going bad I guess. Not even a small town.” This stopped Spencer's comments on the location of the team's most recent case, and he shifted gears to talk about the psychological development of those raised in rural environments versus those raised in urban areas. y/n continued to listen to Spencer as he spoke, even if she couldn’t always keep up with his mile-a-minute commentary. She listened because Reid was a fount of knowledge and often a comment he made and maybe didn’t even remember would be helpful later on in the case. She also listened because sometimes the other members of the team didn’t when he spoke. It wasn’t that they didn’t think that what he was saying was important, it was just that they were trying to come up with their own thoughts and theories about the case. y/n was also guilty of tuning Reid out sometimes, but when she could listen to him, she did. 

y/n had always been more of a listener than one to contribute to the conversation early on. y/n felt better about talking once she had more information and that normally wasn’t until the team arrived at the case's location or even saw the first crime scene. Once y/n had the bigger picture, she was ready and able to hope in and give her thoughts. Before that time came, she would listen and think about her prior knowledge. Although it might be less exciting than guessing and formulating theories, she found that often some basic information or past cases or criminals was useful when leads dropped or the case seemed to go cold. In her process, she was thinking about the future. As she had integrated into the team full-time at the beginning, Derek teased her for writing so much down in a notebook. She highlighted any relevant information the team stated or facts that seemed relevant. Morgan had joked in good humor but as the first few cases came to a close, the whole team slowly realized that she was approaching these cases from another angle, one that proved to be highly valuable at important points.  

y/n settled next to Emily at her desk and pulled her go bag from underneath the space. The sound of Aaron’s door closing caught y/n’s attention. He was wearing that maroon tie she liked so much. She hadn’t told him that yet, it felt too trivial, but she really liked that tie on him. Aaron caught her eye for a moment and there was a small twinge in her chest before they quickly, discreetly looked away. Nobody knew that they were spending time together outside of work. They had to be discreet because it was mixing work and pleasure and in a place like the FBI, that didn’t just fly. y/n was sure Hotch knew everything about the rules and consequences of breaking those rules, but he hadn’t filled her in on those details. She had looked at the employee handbook but it was all legalese and it hurt her head. If she and Aaron did become more serious, and committed, she would ask him to interpret the confusing language for her. Thankfully they weren’t having a hard time keeping their work and private lives separate, yet. 

Aaron felt the normal thrill of heading out to a new case. He considered the word, ‘thrill,’ thinking it wasn’t the perfect synonym for the arrival of yet another slew of murders, but it certainly wasn’t excitement either. Excitement meant something happy, something to look forward to. ‘Energized,’ his brain offered. Mentally Aaron nodded along, That would work for now. He had to be energized for this work. He wasn’t a young man anymore but there had to be a strength and calmness with him. He was the leader and even with Rossi being on the team for over a year, his agents still looked to him to make this all work. His eyes found y/n’s and there he found the look of thrill. This was still so new to her, even though she had been on the team for a while. He looked away as always, not giving into any desires that lingered when he was paying attention to his newest agent. He was grateful that y/n was professional and polite and had the utmost decorum even though outside of work they hadn’t been entirely professional. The thought of their last non-work meeting at her apartment and her heavy breathing and soft sounds on her lips, as he worked over her clothed body with his hands brought a momentatry flush to his face. 

Hotch sobered as quickly as he had flushed as Dave came up beside him and said, “You ready for this?” Aaron looked over to his friend and bluntly replied, “As ready as possible, but it's still never easy.” Rossi nodded along as they both moved down the stairs and toward the parking lot. This line of work wasn’t easy. Aaron knew that every time his team left for a new case there was a chance that someone might get hurt, or even killed and no matter how good everyone was at their job, that possibility still worried him. y/n’s face popped up in his mind as he found his seat in the jet and he pushed away the thought. His relationship with her had shifted to something he wasn’t entirely sure he had under control. They hadn’t made anything official and hadn’t even said, “I love you,” yet. However, Hotch wasn’t a man who moved quickly, but as long as he and y/n had an open, honest conversation about where their feelings were headed, he wasn’t going to fight it. He had fought so many things, and people in his life that he didn’t have the desire to fight this too. Being around y/n felt good. It felt safe and he rarely got that in his life, so he was embracing it where he could. As JJ went over more of the facts and details regarding the case involving a serial killer wreaking havoc in the tiny town in Ohio, he shifted his full attention to what his media liaison was saying. 

As the jet landed on the tiny airstrip, everyone got out and into the waiting SUVs. Aaron drove with Emily, Spencer, and JJ while Rossi took y/n and Derek. Spencer and Emily were discussing the need to work well with the law enforcement in the town as they were likely ingratiate into all aspects of the community. Meanwhile, JJ was preparing a statement for the media. In the other car, Derek turned from the front seat and asked, “So what are we thinking in terms of prior knowledge _y/n_?” y/n turned her gaze to Morgan’s and said, “Well strangulation is such a common signature that we’re going to have to look for something more specific to get traction here. The photos do look like this guy is strangling people from behind and the unsubs killing fit men someone who doesn't want to face what they’re really doing? Or it could be that they despise their victims so much they can’t stand to see them again, even while killing them?” Morgan nodded and elaborated on the idea that the killer might see these men as a competition of some kind. As having something the unsub lacked. This information allowed those in Rossi’s car to start to form a physical profile of the unsub. As the team made it to the small local police station, everyone got out of the parked cars and a man who appeared to be in his fifties who was balding badly came out to greet them. 

Aaron stepped forward and extended his hand. The man took it and gave it a firm shake, saying, “I’m Officer Bronson. Thank you so much for you folks from coming out here.” Aaron nodded, replying, “I’m Agent, Hotchner and this is my team.” He indicated to the team, quickly introducing them. First, he gestured to JJ stating, “This is our media liaison, Jennifer Jareau.” JJ stepped forward and took the man’s slightly sweaty hand. Aaron moved through the rest of the team quickly, wanting to get the introductions over with and the real work started. He motioned to each of his agents saying, “This is David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Dr. Spencer Reid, _y/n_ _l/n_, and Emily Prentiss.” Each member nodded as Hotch said their name and Officer Bronson replied, Well welcome to Walnut Creek. I wish it was under happier circumstances. I’ll let you all get inside and out of this heat.” As the team moved into the small building, Aaron asked, “Is there a space where we can get organized and look at the evidence more easily?” Bronson nodded and led the team to a table at the back of a very small station and said, “Sorry it’s nothing fancy. I’ll have someone clean off the files and stuff off for you.” The man turned and semi-shouted, “Anderson, can you clear your junk off this table?” Anderson, a thirty-something-year-old moved around the team and got his things saying, “Sorry Chief.” Bronson looked to Aaron, almost for approval, and asked, “Will this do?” To which Hotch simply replied, “It’s fine.” 

As the team settled a little y/n looked at JJ with a ‘Are you kidding me?’ expression and then looked at Anderson who was placing his numerous files on another table. JJ rolled her eyes in return. The fact that one of the officers had open files possibly containing sensitive or private data out on a table for anyone in the room to see displayed the station's lack of professionalism. The team worked up a preliminary profile and Aaron told Officer Bronson that they were ready to address his unit. Bronson called his team to the side of the room and as the officers sat down, Aaron moved forward saying, “Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you for your attention. My name is Aaron Hotchner and I’m the Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. This is my team, and we’re here to coordinate with you to try and stop these killings as quickly as possible. If you have any questions please hold them to the end. We appreciate you working with us, and now I’ll let Derek Morgan deliver our preliminary profile to you.” 

Aaron stepped aside to let Derek deliver the profile. Hotch had asked Morgan to deliver the profile because something about the officers sitting in front of him didn’t seem like they were convinced that they needed the team's help. Given the fact that Derek was the closest in age to many of the officers, and he could be just as intense as Aaron if he wanted, Aaron thought that the men would respect Morgan over someone like himself or Rossi. It helped that Morgan also looked more like the policemen now listening with unveiled trepidation about the profile. This was another part of the job that Aaron disliked. He not only had to profile the unsub but the law enforcement officers as well. His team and the local authorities had to work together due to bureaucratic rulings and sometimes the officers didn’t want the Bau's assistance. The idea that the team was ‘taking over’ or ‘standing on their turf’ often caused conflict. Aaron always tried to nip this conflict early. His team didn’t need to worry about that and quite frankly they all had better things to do. Aaron looked at the ten seated men, as he listened to Morgan. Most of the officers were looking at Derek, but one or two were consistently looking over at JJ, y/n, and Emily. Aaron clenched his jaw and resisted the urge to sigh. He could tell whatever conflict his team and this police unit were going to have would be an uphill battle. 

Hotch noticed when the men he was working with paid a little too much attention to members of his team. Hotch couldn’t deny that y/n, JJ, and Emily were all beautiful, intelligent, and capable and that combination was attractive. However, that did not give these men a right to act lewdly or leer at them. As Derek wrapped up the profile, he fielded a few questions from the assembled crowd. With that, Chief Bronson dismissed his men. Aaron gathered the team and they broke into smaller units to look for any clues that might bring them closer to finding the unsub. Aaron, Spencer, and y/n were headed to the high school which was the scene of the latest killing. Rossi and Morgan were headed to the hospital to see the bodies of the victims to determine if there was more to the signature than just strangulation. Lastly, JJ and Emily were going to go to the press to provide a statement for the townspeople who were panicking and holding up the police phones making those who really needed help unable to get it. 

In the evening as the team regrouped at the station, there was the kind of frantic energy they got once the case had really started. y/n had lots of thoughts and was ready to see what the rest of the team had discovered. She knew she wasn’t going to see much sleep tonight, so she moved to the break room where the coffee pots normally were in police stations. As she approached the room she began to overhear a conversation going on inside. The snippet she heard was, “So who are you picking, Blondie, Brunette, or _y/h/c_?” There was a laugh before the other man in the room began saying, “What about all three?” There was more laughter at this and as the unseen man began saying, “But if you’re really making me choose…” y/n walked quickly away before she could hear the answer. As she moved back to the team she thought, ‘These guys really have no standards.’ She felt slightly repulsed but did her best to ignore the feeling. As she stepped back to the table, and Aaron looked over at her, he could see that something was wrong. A few minutes later, when he was finished listening to Spencer’s geographic profile, Hotch moved to stand next to y/n. In a quiet volume, he asked, “Is everything okay?” y/n looked up at him. His expression had the smallest hint of worry,  and she alleviated that fear by saying, “Yeah. It’s nothing.” Aaron nodded and said, “Okay. Tell me more about what you were saying to Derek about the point of impact, we might be able to get a height on the unsub with that information.” y/n nodded and jumped into the conversation. Aaron could tell that something was off about y/n, but he wouldn’t push it. He trusted her to handle things herself and if she needed to, he knew she would ask for help. 

The night wore on and eventually, the team moved to the tiny hotel the town had. There were barely enough rooms to fit them all. The town was very cozy and picturesque in its quaintness. y/n thought about this as she drove Derek and Rossi to the hotel. She assumed it was a nice place to grow up in. To grow old in. y/n wasn’t sure where these thoughts were coming from, but she chalked it up to tiredness and the case. Because for seven men there would be no growing old here or anywhere. The sadness of that realization only made her want to solve this case more badly. There were always a lot of emotions tied to the cases they worked on, and to protect herself, she had to try and stay disconnected from the pain and hurt that the victims and the victims' families went through. But she couldn’t always hold back those emotions and now was one of those times. As everyone settled in for the night and said their goodnights, which just meant ‘I’ll be sitting up in bed reading over the same evidence as you one door down,’ Aaron walked over to y/n and said, “Goodnight, y/n.” His brief interaction with her at the precinct from earlier in the day flashed in his head. He didn’t like it when she looked upset. It made him feel nervous, so he asked, “You’d tell me if something was wrong? Wouldn’t you?” The question came out of left field and y/n blinked for a moment, not really knowing why Aaron was asking. At this point, she had sort of forgotten the rude comments being made by the officers, so she replied, “Of course I would Aaron.” At her response, Hotch infinitesimally relaxed and the two headed for the elevator together. Rossi had seen the interaction between them. He didn’t hear what they said, or that y/n had used Hotch’s first name, but he couldn't help but feel that something was there between the two agents. Perhaps it was the way Aaron leaned down a little bit to be in earshot, or the way y/n looked at his friend like nothing else around her mattered. David wouldn’t say anything yet, but he was sure he was going to start paying more attention to Aaron. Rossi wasn’t against whatever was happening between his coworkers. Aaron had had a rough few months, and he thought the man deserved some comfort.

In the morning most of the team was out hunting leads. Derek and y/n had stayed back for a minute because _y/n_ thought she had seen something new in the geographical profile. They would both head to the sight of the first body once she had looked at the board again. y/n was standing, looking at the map, engrossed in the pins Spencer had pushed into all the significant locations thus far. She just barely acknowledged when Morgan said he was going to use the men’s room. She also didn’t notice when one of the officers came up behind her. The man extended a hand and grabbed her ass giving it a squeeze. At the unwanted touch, y/n whipped around saying, “Hey!” The phrases echoed around the nearly empty office. She looked at the man, clocking his name on his badge, Monroe. There was a moment of silence before y/n incredulously said, “What was that?” Monroe gave a laugh and said, “Sorry, babe. I thought you were interested.” With that, the officer quickly left, as he noticed Derek coming back from the bathroom. Monroe nearly brushed shoulders with Morgan as they both tried to fit through the door at the same time.

When Derek got into the room, he noticed that something was off about y/n. She was standing still with a look of shock and disgust on her face. y/n tried to fix her facial features back to normal, but Morgan had seen and quickly strode into the room next to her. Derek looked her over quickly and asked, “y/n, what’s wrong?” y/n looked to the floor for a second, biting the inside of her cheek. She couldn’t really believe what had just happened. For a moment she thought about lying but knew that Morgan would keep asking until she gave in. She sighed and looked up at Morgan’s worried face, saying, “That guy just groped me.” At hearing this, Morgan turned on his heel, but Officer Monroe was halfway out the door with Officer Anderson. They were both laughing at some unheard joke. It took everything in Derek to not go over to the two men and give Monroe an unadulterated piece of his mind. However, he knew that wasn’t his place really. And he wanted to make sure y/n was okay. He turned back to _y/n_ and asked, “Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” y/n nodded her head no, saying, “No. I was just shocked, I guess.” Morgan nodded along and said, “It shouldn’t have happened, period. You need to tell Hotch.” y/n’s widened at the suggestion. It made sense of course. Issues like this were under his purview, but for some reason telling him about this made her hesitate. Before she could think about it too much Morgan repeated himself saying, “Hotch would want to know.” y/n put her palms up and said, “Fine, fine. I’ll tell him when he gets back.” Morgan gave her a look that made her say, “I promise I’ll tell him.” After a second of picturing that uncomfortable forthcoming conversation y/n said, “He’s gonna be so mad.” Derek could understand what y/n was saying but noted, “Maybe, but not at you, y/n.” There was another awkward silence before Derek finally said, “Do you need a few minutes, or would you like to head out?” Desperate for a distraction y/n, almost too quickly replied, “No. let’s go.” 

At the supermarket where the first victim had been found. Morgan and y/n took notes and got the security footage. It seems like they had a real lead by finding the license plate of the van that had dumped the deceased man in the alleyway near the store's load bay. However, the footage was too grainy to make out. After finishing watching the video, y/n moved to call Garcia and see if she could enhance the video quality while Derek asked the security guard who had found the victim in the morning some questions. When she wrapped up her call with Garcia, y/n briefly slumped against the outside wall; closing her eyes. She tried to think about why talking to Hotch about what had happened with Monroe was bothering her so much. She knew that Derek was right. Hotch wouldn’t be mad at her, at all. Maybe it was a feeling of embarrassment? y/n’s logical side of her brain said that she didn’t need to be embarrassed. She hadn’t groped anyone, but the feeling persisted. Maybe because talking about the incident meant being vulnerable in front of Aaron which was all fine and good when they were alone in her apartment. But having to do so at work was entirely different. y/n let out a breath deciding to push all her feelings back for a moment. She would deal with it later. For now, she moved back inside the rendezvous with Morgan. 

‘Later’ came as it always did. It was around five o’clock and the whole team was reconvening at the station. As the SUVs arrived one by one in the parking lot, everyone got out. y/n looked over the team. They all looked a little tired, but when didn’t they on a case? y/n felt the fatigue pull at her, but she knew she would find a second wind once she heard what everyone else had found out. She knew this unsub was here lurking in this little town, ready to kill again. She looked over to Aaron who was speaking to Emily about something. y/n desperately wanted coffee and she walked toward the front door as she got close, Officer Monroe walked out the door. His badge was off and it was clear that he was headed home for the day. y/n wondered if the man had a wife? Kids? The idea of it only made her more disgusted. As they neared each other she refused to make room for him on the sidewalk. She’d make him move aside for her. She wasn’t, however, going to look at him. y/n planted her gaze on the sidewalk. Much like Monroe’s unwanted touch that morning, she didn’t expect to walk into him full force. When she turned her face to the man he said, “Hey, watch where you’re going, sweetheart.” y/n could see that Monroe was actually enjoying this and she replied, “You ran into me!” Monroe smiled at seeing this woman like this -- uncomfortable. He had enjoyed the rush of her skin under his hands, and now he hoped for a repeat performance. Hardly thinking that there were others looking on, he quickly and forcefully placed a hand on her navel and then brushed downward. y/n stood stock still as this happened because she thought that it couldn’t possibly be happening. Not here in public, in broad daylight, in front of the whole team? It just couldn’t be happening. 

Aaron was chatting with Emily about the profile as he looked over the team to see how they were doing. As he looked at Morgan, and Morgan returned his gaze with a facial expression that said, ‘We need to talk.’ Aaron gave the man a nod and Morgan looked over to y/n who was walking forward the precinct. Her shoulders seemed pulled tight under her shirt but in a way that hid that she was trying to hide her stress. He watched as she walked into one of the police officers from yesterday who had been overly enthused by y/n, Prentiss, and JJ’s presence.  Aaron could barely hear the brief conversation between the two and as the word, “Sweetheart,” was thrown out, Aaron stiffened. And then it happened. He couldn’t fully see where or how far down the officer’s hand had landed because _y/n_ was blocking his view, but Aaron observed y/n stiffen, and that told him all he needed to know. 

Before y/n could find her voice and tell Monroe to ‘get the fuck off of her,’ Aaron’s clear sharp voice addressed the officer like a whip. Like a wound aimed at the man who dared to touch y/n. Aaron was over to y/n in an instant. He placed a hand on her shoulder, firmly but gently pulling her frozen body back and behind him. Aaron towered over Monroe, and he felt his blood boil. Aaron let a harsh breath out and said, “If you value your job, and your pension you will get your hand Off. My. Agent.” Aaron highlighted each word that evinced his anger. Behind him, _y/n_ felt a wave of relief from being pulled out of that situation. Quickly Spencer and Emily were pulling y/n farther away from the scene, but she could distinctly hear Hotch say, “Get in your car and leave. Now.” Derek watched as Monroe slinked away to his car looking defeated and small. Spencer and Emily walked with y/n into the precinct, asking if she was okay, and the team as a whole huddled around her to make sure she was really alright. When she had reassured them, everyone except for Hotch moved away from y/n. Aaron placed a hand on her forearm and led her to a chair. She sat and let the exhaustion of the case, disgust at Monroe's actions, and the feeling of his hand on her body overwhelm her for a moment. A shiver ran through her. Aaron knelt down on one knee to be more on eye level with y/n. If his words before had meant to intimidate and accuse, his tone now was one of reassurance and comfort. Aaron spoke professionally but with a hint of something more that spoke to their relationship outside of work. He asked, “Be honest with me. Are you okay? Are you hurt or bruised?” Aaron’s voice helped still her thoughts and she assessed her body before saying softly, “I’m not in any pain.” She didn’t answer his first question because she didn’t particularly feel alright, but she knew she was safe now. Especially now that she was with Aaron. Aaron registered this and asked, “Has this happened before while we’ve been here?” y/n swallowed and replied, “Yes, this morning right after everyone headed out for the day.” Aaron gave her that look that said, “Elaborate please.” y/n bit her bottom lip, wondering how to phrase what had happened. Not finding any more polite or dignified terms, she said, “Morgan had stepped out and I was focusing on the bulletin board and he, um, came up behind me and grabbed my ass.” She could see the anger, the controlled rage fire through him again and she wanted to say something to reassure Aaron that she really was alright, even if she wasn’t. However, he stopped her as the Chief of Police entered the building. Aaron turned his head back to y/n and said, “Excuse me for a moment.” Then with a tone of reassurance, he said, “This conversation isn’t over.” Hotch stood and looked at Emily who understood that he was asking her to sit with _y/n_. Prentiss moved to sit next to y/n. When this was done, Aaron turned his attention to the officer who had just entered the building and said, “Chief Bronson, your office, now.” His intonation left no room for questions or delays and the older man nodded and walked into his cluttered office with Aaron on his heels. Once the door was closed Hotch turned and he felt the anger bubble up to the surface again. As Bronson asked, “What seems to be the problem?” The man sounded nervous. 

From outside the glass-walled room, the team listened as their leader said, “One of your officers just assaulted a member of my team.” Bronson’s response was inaudible, but Hotch’s reply of, “What do I mean?” Could be heard clearly. At this, the team flinched, knowing that the man inside with Hotch was about to have his soul ripped from his body and handed back to him. Everyone listened as Aaron said, “What I mean is that just a few minutes ago, Officer Monroe had his hands on a member of my team in a private area. And that wasn’t the first time this has happened today.” Aaron took a steadying breath before continuing, “As much as I respect law enforcement and what you do, I’m highly concerned about what’s just happened. If someone under your authority thought they had the right to touch a federal agent, I fear what’s happening with normal residents of this town.” Bronson stumbled to find words and said, “Well I certainly don’t condone that behavior.” Aaron let out a harsh scoff, not truly believing the man saying, “Perhaps not, but that doesn’t change the fact that your officer felt entitled to do what he did. And I don’t think Monroe thought he was going to face any consequences, and I can only imagine that he assumed that because you’ve let him get away with behavior like this before.” After this, Hotch’s voice dropped lower so the team outside could no longer hear him. Derek said, “Well I think Officer Bronson has had his ‘Come to Jesus’ moment.’” That comment actually made y/n laugh and she felt a little better now that she could laugh at this whole situation. Hearing Aaron stand up for her like that made her feel warm inside in a comforted sort of way. Aaron finished unloading with the warning, “You’ll be receiving an ethics complaint from the Department of Justice as soon as I’m back in Quantico. You might consider cutting your losses before then.” With that, he got up and left the office. 

Later that evening in y/n’s room, she and Aaron sat. She was sitting on the edge of the bed facing Aaron who was in the only chair in the lamplit space. This was to be a continuation of their conversation from before. y/n looked over at Hotch and saw how perturbed he looked. She felt a tug in her chest seeing him like this. He already had to deal with so much and now there was this. She started the conversation in an attempt to soothe this new hurt by saying, “Hotch, it really wasn’t that bad. He didn’t hurt me, it was just unexpected.” At her words, he dipped his head and said, “It never should have happened, y/n. He touched you without your consent twice, and I couldn’t prevent it.” y/n frowned and felt that Aaron had to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders with this job. She said, “It’s not your fault, Aaron. I know you see how they look at JJ, Em, and I.” Hotch lifted his head and placed a warm hand on her knee saying, “Of course I see, and it bothers me more than I can say. Having these men look at you is bad enough, but when one of them starts to act on those feelings, it's unconscionable.” y/n saw that she wasn’t going to make him feel any better, so instead she put her hand over his and gently rubbed over his knuckles with her thumb. She said, “I’m going to be okay Aaron. And if I’m not, I’ll let you know. Thank you for looking out for me.” Hotch let out a breath at her touch and words, simply replying, “Always, y/n. I’ll always be here.” He wanted to lean in and press his body to hers. To cover her from unwanted attention and hands. But there was still a case, and she looked tired, but he promised himself when this was solved that he would be spending a considerable amount of time either on his or her couch with y/n on his lap and his arms settled around her; as long as that was something she wanted of course. 

The case wrapped up a few days later and the team headed home. On the plane ride back, y/n crashed on the couch facing Spencer. Emily, Rossi, and Morgan watched with a small amount of surprise,  then a soft understanding as Hotch quietly took off his blazer and placed it over her curled, sleeping body. And when Rossi left his office and walked toward his car he stopped and made sure Aaron and y/n didn’t see him as Hotch held y/n and leaned down to kiss her forehead. As Hotch wrapped her in his arms, y/n’s hands moved to his chest, and after everything that had happened on top of the case, at least she knew that she was always safe with him.

[librarycards]

do you have any book recs on relationship abuse? feel free to discard this question or point me elsewhere

hello anon - i read your other message to and am sending both of you much love. thanks for reaching out.

first and foremost, i am still very much a student of the literature in relationship abuse, not an expert. here are some books that may be helpful, with annotations:

Banu Khapil, The Vertical Interrogation of Strangers. Khapil interviews women from the South Asian diaspora using a set of guiding craft/storytelling questions. i found this book immensely useful for my writing, which is to say, for transmuting the unlanguagable experiences of trauma - including relationship abuse and sexual violence - and restorying them in ways that worked for me.

Eli Clare, Exile and Pride. Clare is a trans survivor of CSA, and writes about the intersection of disability and survivorship.

Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha, Care Work: Dreaming Disability Justice, and their other work. They're a decorated writer, performer, and activist deeply invested in a disability justice + femme-of-color oriented approach to community care, and speak frankly and often about intimate partner violence, CSA, and the aftermath, as well as TJ-based approaches.

I have not read Beyond Survival, but tentatively recommend taking a look, alongside my friend's astute commentary about the book's metatext.

Maggie Smith, You Could Make this Place Beautiful. Smith is a brilliant poet, and has written this memoir about her divorce. As we dig deeper, we uncover a context of abuse, exploitation, infidelity, and dangerous envy on the part of her husband; and watch her carve a life beyond him.

Carmen Maria Machado, In the Dream House. A classic in the category of abuse memoir, and for good reason. Machado's insights into the onion of abuse culture in which we currently live –– ownership rhetorics around children, the subjugation of women, the silence around abuse by and of queer women –– are crucial.

Erin Elizabeth Smith, Down. My dear friend and colleague's book of poems that speak to the insidious process of grooming and its downstream effects, as well as the process of finding one's freedom.

And a few works of fiction to offer solidarity & new ways of thinking in this time:

Sayaka Murata, Earthlings

Tiffany D Jackson, Grown

Dorothy Allison, Bastard Out of Carolina

Ruth Ozeki, My Year of Meats

Tiffany McDaniel, Betty

i hope this is helpful. i don't necessarily know if these are the kinds of narratives your friend needs rn, but these are the ones that have helped me begin coming to terms with my own experiences (i have a long way to go) and have afforded me the chance to think critically about relationship dynamics and cultures of abuse that refuse to absolve abusers of responsibility for their behavior.

[quibbs126]

So today I just drew a whole page of my old character Vanilla Powder Cookie

I was on the page with Snow Fungus, and one of the characters there was Vanilla Powder, with her design seen in the top left there. I was looking at it, and I was like “I’m not sure it makes her look like a proper small child”, and since I’ve been trying to figure out how to make a character look distinctly like a child, I decided to redraw her on a new page just for her

And surprisingly, for once I actually finished one of these

So now I feel like listing some things about her, some of which isn’t exactly new, but I still feel like reiterating

So as you can tell, she’s Pure Vanilla’s daughter, one that he had before he got his Soul Jam and his kingdom was founded. She was a baby or toddler when it was founded, so she spent almost her entire life as the Vanillian princess. In addition, she’s the direct ancestor of the Custard family (though I don’t know what her kid’s name would be). However, she unfortunately is not around during current day, as she was baked up to a thousand years prior to current day, so she crumbled a long time ago. Though she lived a long life and simply died of old age, so things didn’t go that bad for her

Oh, also I feel like I should show the original version of Vanilla Powder, just for posterity

She looks entirely different, I think for the better

The younger version of her is mostly just based on the previous version, with an entirely new outfit. I feel like the outfit looks closer to something a kid would wear, but I’m not sure

Then I decided to finally give her a proper adult redesign, and I think I did quite well, much better than the original

I mostly used this one picture from a development commentary for her outfits

Her three cones were because I wanted to convey her status as the princess in some way. They were originally all next to each other, but I felt like they didn’t look particularly special like that, so I instead but the side two further down on her head. But then they reminded me more of hair clips like what Saiki K has, so now I’ve decided they’re possibly magic things that help her control her magic. And also they come off when she uses it. She probably got them as a teenager

Also her eyes are now brown since it fit better with vanilla extract (aka what I think Pure Vanilla is supposed to be), and also because while she’s the Custard ancestor, she’s from long before them, so she doesn’t have to keep the same blue eye color as them. Also, I’ve now decided that Vanilla Bean, aka my OC that’s Vanilla’s dad, has brown eyes. Though I do wonder if I should have given her blue eyes, to break up all the browns and yellows. That’s what the blue on the page is for

Edit: so I ended up changing her eyes to that blue. It’s not PV’s blue because I didn’t really think his light blue works on her. I think it looks nice

Also in her original design, she was going to have a design that looked ambiguously like she could be a purelily kid, but by this point she’s mostly just based on Pure Vanilla, the hair style’s really the only thing somewhat similar to White Lily

I think that’s about it for her, I hope you like her!