#it's just a marks X3

[loupy-mongoose]

I Love How Midas Looks As A Shiny, It's So BLUE. But I Was Expecting His Shiny Swap To Have His Rings Go Pink. So, If You're Alright With It, What Would He Look Like If His Main Colour (Pink) And Secondary Colour (Blue) Swapped?

Here he is with lazily edited markings lol.

[justarkive]

THE JEONS | smut drabble 3

Ass Or Tits? (…Both + 1) 🔞

summary: a collection of chaotic family drabbles. thats it.

contents: family!au, non.idol jungkook, girl!dad jk, fluff, angst, sensitive topics + smut sometimes!

• chapter contents: smut!! unhinged devotion, horny affection, unprotected sex, chaotic couple energy, soft!kook but filthy smut hehe, body worship lowk. oral f receiving, anal play (rimming), nose in ur puss, tongue in ass, hands on tits… TRIPLE KILL. groping, nipple play, cum on skin, he rubs it in lol, mild spanking, face-sitting adjacent behavior?, he’s obsessed with ur ass fr, possessive!jungkook, one braincell between u both, sex but make it cinematic and unserious, romantic filth, giggly sex, “i wish we could do missionary and doggy at the same time”— and he fuckin does it… not QUITE. but he does it in his own way.

• taglist: @jenniebyrubies @lovingkoalaface @iamstilljk @elinaki92 @rpwprpwprpwprw @mafersame @parkinglot-nights @reallygenerouskoala @mimi1097 @aznstoner @jungshaking @pinkpunkdynamite @angie-x3 (check pinned to be added)

masterlist, series masterlist

Jungkook loves every single part of your body—and he makes sure you know it.

Your face? He kisses it. Slowly, obsessively, like he’s tracing every freckle with his mouth.

Your neck? He marks it. Low and dangerous, where only he gets to see.

Your tits? He’s no better than Hana, truly—always latched on, always greedy.

Your stomach? He’ll cum all over it, no shame, just moaning about how pretty you look covered in him.

Your pussy? Nothing compares. It’s his weakness, his damn religion. He’d pray to it if he could.

Your thighs? He bites them. Sinks his teeth in like he’s starving.

Your legs? Rubbed absently while you sit in his lap, his hand lazily stroking like you’re a pet he can’t stop touching.

Toes? Don’t test him. He’d suck them clean if you asked.

But your ass?

Your ass is where he dies.

Outside the bedroom, he’s no better. He’s got a hand on it constantly—squeezing, slapping, gripping it through your clothes like it’s his stress ball.

Oversized shirts and his boxers are his favorite thing you wear. He swears they’re dangerous. The way the cotton barely hangs on, the way your ass fills out those boxers too well—it drives him insane. And when you lift your arms to stretch and the shirt rides up just enough to flash the curve of it?

Dead man.

You know how weak he is for it. You’ve known for a while. And maybe that’s why you do it now—why you walk past him with nothing but one of his T-shirts and your ass on full display, glancing back with a smirk as you feel his stare burn into you.

You don’t even make it to the bed.

He’s on you before you can blink, dragging your hips back toward the couch, pushing you forward until your hands are braced against the cushions.

“Fuck—” he mutters, voice thick with reverence and hunger, already shoving the shirt up over your back, palms greedily gripping and squeezing. “Look at that. You know what you’re doing to me?”

You giggle, wiggling back into him. “No idea.”

He groans, lining himself up behind you, nudging his cock between your cheeks before pushing into you with a hiss.

“Gonna cum all over it,” he babbles, thrusting deep, dizzy. “So fucking pretty—fuck—you’re gonna let me? Baby, yeah?”

You can only nod, moaning as he hits that sweet spot over and over, breath stuttering with every bounce of your ass against his hips.

And when you say, “Do it, Jungkook—cum all over it,” in that breathy little voice?

He’s a fucking goner.

He’s thrusting into you hard—deep and heavy, hips slapping against your ass with every stroke, greedy hands keeping you exactly where he wants you. You’re whining, moaning, every sound caught between his name and broken curses.

You’re expecting him to say something filthy. Something sexy. He always does.

But instead—

“I wish,” he pants, breath hot against your shoulder, “we could do doggy and missionary at the same time.”

You blink. “What?”

“I’m serious,” he groans, thrust stuttering a little. “Like—if I could see your face and your tits and your ass at the same time? I don’t think I’d last, baby. I’d probably cum in, like, five seconds tops.”

You freeze for a second. He sounds genuinely mournful about it. Like it’s his greatest sexual tragedy.

And then—god, the image—you burst out laughing. Full-body shaking kind of laughter, muffled into your arm, your stomach tightening and your pussy clenching hard around him as you try to breathe through it.

And Jungkook?

Jungkook chokes. “Fuck—!”

You feel it before you hear it—the way his hips stutter, the low moan he tries (and fails) to swallow. You clench again by accident, and he gasps, pulling out at the very last second and barely managing to finish on your ass.

Barely.

You look over your shoulder, still giggling like an idiot.

He’s standing there, blinking down at you, looking like he’s just been personally wronged. “There’s not even that much,” he pouts, rubbing his thumb through the mess he managed to make. “That wasn’t fair. You cheated.”

You’re breathless from laughing, face smushed into the couch cushion. “I cheated?”

“You clenched. On purpose.”

“I was laughing!”

“Exactly!” He grumbles, smearing his cum across your skin anyway, palm wide and lazy over the swell of your ass like it’s his personal playground.

You hum, still giggling. “Come on, Kook. Make me cum.”

His complaints die immediately.

Gone. Buried. Forgotten.

His face is between your cheeks in a second—mumbling something that sounds like “not even mad anymore,” while his tongue drags through your folds with reverence, hands keeping you spread and trembling.

And you just grin, melting into the cushions, eyes fluttering closed while he eats like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted.

Because, well. It kinda is.

Your back arches against the sheets, hands tangled in his hair, tugging without direction—just needing something to hold onto.

“Oh—fuck, Jungkook—fuck,” you whimper, eyes fluttering, thighs twitching. “Thought—thought you were a tits guy.”

His eyes flash up at you. He doesn’t stop. Not even a little. Just lifts his head barely enough to say, with his mouth still shining and open, “Say it again.”

You bite your lip, gasping through a moan. “Thought you were a—tits guy…”

He groans. Visibly. Like the sound rocks through his whole chest.

“Baby,” he says, voice low, dark, wrecked. “I’m both.”

He kisses your clit once, slow and soft, then moves down again, mouthing messily at your folds.

“But this ass?” He grumbles into you, nosing lower just to prove his point. “This ass has been fucking killing me lately.”

Your breath stutters out of your lungs, a high whine in your throat. You squirm, reaching down blindly until you find his hands, and guide them up—pressing them against your chest, your voice all whimpery and slurred when you pout, “But you’re leaving them out…”

He melts.

Like, literally. His whole body goes soft and gooey for a second, his hands squeezing gently over your tits like he’s petting something delicate and breakable, his thumbs brushing lazy circles over your nipples.

“Cute,” he mutters, voice muffled as he dives back down between your thighs. “You’re so fucking cute, baby.”

You whimper.

He moans.

“You don’t believe me?” he murmurs, breath warm and wicked as it fans across your inner thigh. “Think I’m lying when I say I’m both?”

You can’t even form words—you just stare down at him, dazed and breathless, lips parted, body trembling.

“I’ll prove it.”

And then he does.

He kisses down your stomach, slow and sticky and worshipful, one hand staying high to cup your tits—thumb swiping over your nipple, squeezing gently like it grounds him. The other slides under your thigh, spreading you open wider than you thought possible.

And then—he’s everywhere.

Like literally.

Nose pressed flush to your clit, nuzzling against it like it’s his fucking home. Tongue dipping lower, deeper, licking into your ass without a hint of shame. And all the while—his hands never leave your chest. He’s palming you, groping you, kneading you like you’re everything he’s ever wanted and he’s been starved.

It’s obscene. It’s overwhelming. It’s all-consuming.

You cry out, loud and broken, as your hips jerk and your hands claw at his hair.

“Jungkook—fuck, fuck—” your voice is high and unraveling, thighs shaking around his head as your orgasm punches through you like lightning. “I—I can’t—oh my god—”

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t come up for air. His nose still nudging your clit, tongue still buried inside your ass, hands full of tits like he’s living out the fantasy he once only joked about.

Missionary and doggy. At the same time.

Not quite, but close.

And you’re the only one laughing. A choked, dazed giggle slips from your throat even as you’re trembling, and the moment your body pulses again around his face—he groans.

Loud. Deep.

You cry out as you come, high and broken, hips twitching, hands fisting the sheets as your body pulses and clenches and pours out against his mouth.

And he—he licks it up like he’s starving.

Like it’s dessert. Like it’s devotion.

“Jungkook,” you gasp, half-laughing, half-crying, overstimulated and twitchy. “Jungkook—”

But he doesn’t stop.

You’re still coming down and he’s still between your legs, mouth still dragging along you like he could live there, like he wants to live there.

You have to physically pull at his shoulders, tugging him up, shaking your head as you whimper, “Stop, stop—baby, please—”

And then he’s crawling up your body, face wrecked, lips wet, chest heaving, and lifting you into his lap like he didn’t just destroy you. You’re a mess of limp limbs and overstimulated nerves, curling into him with a ragged breath and wide eyes.

You bury your face in his neck, trembling and wrecked, and mumble into his skin, “You’re insane.”

He grins—unrepentant and breathless. “And you’re cute.”

[happilyhertale]

My dragoness – Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Summary: Weeks have passed since the announcement of your betrothal to your Uncle Daemon. Since then, hardly a night has gone by without Daemon visiting you - without disregarding your wish not to take the final step yet. But tonight, on your wedding night, you will finally be fully his.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Fingering, sex (p in v), breeding kink, size kink, loss of virginity

Author’s note: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

This is another part of my Shared Future series.

x3 When @targaryen-dynasty asked me if I would like to participate in celebrating her 3K follower milestone, of course I agreed x3

Some have asked for another part for the Shared Future series, which is why I'm celebrating Laura's milestone with this story.

I hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 2.5 k

Other stories of mine

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Your eyes are closed and your shaky breath echoes in the chambers. The rooms that you will share with your husband from now on.

The ceremony seems only distant in your memory and now so surreal as you lie here on this bed. How all eyes were on you when your eyes only looked into your uncle's. How you couldn't suppress a grin when you recognised the slightest smile around his lips. How he gently cupped your cheek with his rough hand before enveloping your lips with his…

"Hey... open your eyes," you hear Daemon say - almost softly.

You obey him and your eyes slowly open. The scenery shoots in on you as you lie on the bed in just your nightgown, your husband standing in front of the bed, looking at you, slowly opening his shirt.

"That's better," he says gently and smiles at you.

You don't know why you're so nervous. He's seen you naked countless times, driven you to ecstasy with his touch. But this time it's different, it's your wedding night.

He slowly approaches you as he slowly opens his trousers. Your fingers fiddle with the hem of your nightgown as you try to breathe more calmly. Without looking at him, you hear his trousers slide down.

Daemon's eyes linger on you. He takes in every nervous twitch and quickened breath and he moves closer.

"There's no need to be nervous. I've seen every inch of you, explored every curve, and tasted your sweet surrender. Tonight, we seal our union, and I will show you just how much you belong to me," he purrs, his voice low and seductive, "It will be special," his soft voice sounds and you hear the words you whispered to him countless nights ago.

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you feel a mix of anticipation and excitement bubbling within you. You know that Daemon is a man of passion and intensity, and tonight, he intends to leave his mark on you in more ways than one.

Daemon's eyes flicker with a mixture of amusement and possessiveness as he watches you fidget and nervously avoid his gaze.

He reaches out, his hand gently caressing your cheek before trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. His touch is both tender and possessive, a contrast that only adds to the intensity of the moment. His fingers curl around the hem of your nightgown, slowly lifting it up, revealing your body to him in all its vulnerability.

You feel the mattress give way as Daemon kneels on the bed. You look up and your purple Targaryen eyes meet. A gasp leaves your lips as his hand brushes across your thigh, gently grasping the underside of it and spreading your thighs slightly - his rough hand, a stark contrast to your soft skin. His other hand slides to your face, his index finger and thumb cupping your chin, lifting your head slightly.

"Look at me... focus on me..." he whispers and you nod slightly as you look into his eyes. Carefully, he pushes your legs apart as he kneels between them. His lips glide over your cheek, over your neck, while his hand slides further up your thigh.

Your eyes flutter shut as you concentrate fully on his touch. His warm breath glides over your skin as his lips caress you. The sweetest moan escapes your lips as his fingers grip your inner thigh.

"That's my girl... concentrate on my touch..." he whispers against your skin. You nod slightly again and gasp as his fingers cup your folds - you'll never get tired of this feeling. Slowly, his fingers move, smearing the wetness along your folds. His fingers find your sensitive bud, light circular movements follow and as if of their own accord your hips move to follow their movement.

Daemon follows your movements, sliding his fingers to your soaked opening, applying light pressure. His fingertips are literally sucked in and a mewling sound comes from your lips. You exhale heavily, his fingers thrust deeper, your eyes still closed.

Daemon's lips curl into a smug smile as he watches your reactions, relishing in the way you respond to his touch. He takes pleasure in knowing that he can easily bring you to the edge with just his fingers alone.

His fingers continue their exploration, sliding in and out of your wetness, gradually increasing the depth and pace of his thrusts. He watches as your hips buck against his hand, seeking more of the pleasure he's giving you.

"You're so wet... I don't even really need to work to get inside you," Daemon murmurs and you blush slightly, but your moans don't let up.

"Open your eyes" he whispers, "I want you to watch as I prepare you for me. See how wet and ready you are for my cock."

As you obey again, your eyes meeting his, Daemon's fingers quicken their pace, delving deeper into your core. He revels in the way your breath hitches, your body trembling with anticipation.

"Such a good girl," he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "You're ready for me, aren't you? You want my cock inside you, filling you completely."

You blush even more - you know that Daemon loves to fill your mind with filthy words. Even if they have the desired effect on you, you can't help but blush.

But suddenly you feel him pull his fingers out of you and a soft whimper leaves you. You feel your nerves again as you look down and see him pulling down his undergarments. You've seen his manhood many times before, on the nights he's visited you - but this is different.

His length is released and you gasp slightly - it's never seemed so big to you, so thick. His hand slides along his throbbing length and you hear him grunt slightly.

"Daemon... this... this won't fit..." you suddenly whisper nervously and your hand slides to his arm.

Daemon smiles, still pumping his hardness.

"Hey... look at me," he whispers again and you look up. But then he kisses you, wrapping his lips around yours, swallowing your doubts.

The kiss is filled with a hunger that ignites a fire deep within you. His hand roams your body, claiming every inch, as if marking you as his territory. The intensity of his touch, the way he dominates your senses, leaves you breathless and wanting more.

"It will fit... we will make it fit... It will hurt at first, but the reward will be all the better," he whispers against your lips. You can't help but nod as he slides the tip of his hardness through your folds.

Your eyes flutter shut and you inhale sharply. Your fingers dig into his skin as his length presses against your pearl. Again your hips move towards him, seeking more of that touch.

Daemon looks down, between your bodies, watching closely as your wetness and his precum mingle. His growl echoes through the chambers. You concentrate fully on the sensation as he guides its length to your entrance.

Slowly he pushes forward and you feel the pressure as his manhood tries to penetrate you. A slight whimper leaves you as your heat envelops his tip. He growls slightly, senses your tightness and starts to move slowly.

"You're doing great..." he whispers in your ear, gently kissing your cheek as he pushes further. You feel the pressure, biting your lip as he impales you on his hot length. The feeling of him stretching you, filling you, is overwhelming. Your walls clench around him, trying to accommodate to his size. Daemon's pace is slow and deliberate, relishing in the tightness and warmth of your core.

But Daemon still feels a lot of resistance, he's nowhere near all the way in yet.

"Love... it's going to hurt for a moment now... but it has to be," he whispers and your eyes open again, looking at him. You whimper, but you nod slightly. He leans his forehead against yours, lets his nose slide gently along yours before kissing you softly again. His rhythmic movements don't let up as his tongue searches for yours and you moan slightly.

When suddenly he thrusts and you cry out as the sharp pain runs through your abdomen. He swallows your cry, his hand on your hip as his thick length works you open. "Uncle Daemon..." you whimper into his mouth as he slides in and out.

"I know..." he whispers, but he keeps moving. The pain slowly subsides. Your cunt, clenching around his cock in protest, slowly gives way. He feels the fluttering of your walls and closes his eyes briefly.

"Gods you feel so good," he growls. Slight mewling sounds leave your lips as your hips begin to move with him. He smiles at you, "That's my girl," he whispers a little breathlessly as his hips move faster. He can feel you soaking his cock, your pleasure increasing, and it spurs him on.

His thrusts get harder as he tries to bury himself completely inside you. He revels in the feeling of your tightness around him, the way you yield to his every thrust. Moans escape you now as your hands grip his upper arms. His hand still on your hip, holding you in place.

He watches your face, observing every flicker of pleasure that crosses your features. His grip tightens on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin, marking you as his.

"You're so tight, so wet," his voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and hunger. "You were made for me... Made to be filled by me," he grunts as he feels the tight grip of your cunt.

You are completely overwhelmed by the sensation as your cunt is fully stretched. You feel his balls slapping against you with every thrust and you whimper. His grunts echo through your chambers as he feels the continuous spasming of your wet walls. His eyes drift down again, seeing his glistening length disappear into your perfect womanhood again and again - the moment he's been waiting for so long, finally fulfilled.

He looks at your face again, sensing your impending climax - your eyes closed, your lips slightly parted as you try to follow his movements. Your noises a mixture of moans and whimpers. His hand slides to your abdomen, pressing lightly against it. He wants to feel his hot length sliding into you, bringing you to climax.

His thumb begins to tease your bud as he thrusts harder and faster into you. You cry out slightly, but you can feel the pressure in your abdomen. Your fingernails dig deeper into his skin as he pumps in and out, his thumb rubbing faster.

"Come for me... Soak my cock, suck up my seed..." he growls in your ear and you moan again. You open your eyes and look into his - blown wide with lust.

As your climax approaches, Daemon's pace quickens, his thrusts growing more powerful. He can feel the walls of your core tightening around him, signaling your imminent release.

With one final powerful thrust, he plunges deep within you, his cock pulsating as he finds his own release. The sensation of him emptying himself inside you pushes you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.

You moan out, your walls milk his cock and he grunts loudly. He watches your face contort with pleasure as moan after moan leaves your lips while your warm walls spasm around him. He's never seen anything so perfect - you're finally his.

He leans down, kisses you, swallows your moans of pleasure.  His hips move more slowly as you come sliding back to reality from the veil of lust.

When his movements slow down completely, he releases the kiss. You can still feel him inside you, his nose slides gently along yours, you see him smile slightly.

"Are you all right?" he whispers a little breathlessly. You just nod and a breathless "Okay," leaves his lips. You whimper slightly in protest as he slowly pulls out of you. His length glistening with a mixture of your fluids. He watches you, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and satisfaction, before leaning down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

In this moment, there is no one else but the two of you, lost in the aftermath of your shared passion. Your bodies are entwined, your souls connected in a way that words cannot describe.

Your heavy breathing echoes in your chambers as he slowly releases the kiss, his gaze travelling down your body as he leans back.

His gaze is fixed on your womanhood and you feel something unfamiliar dripping out of you. Your hand instinctively wants to slide between your legs, but you only notice a slight shake of his head before he stops your hand. His other hand slides to your folds and slowly he pushes his fingers inside you, but you are overstimulated, your hips jerk back slightly.

"Don't," he whispers, "My seed must stay inside you.... I want a perfect heir to grow inside you"

You blush slightly, but his fingers slowly slide inside you, pushing the seed deeper inside you. Your eyes flutter shut slightly as you surrender to this feeling.

Daemon's eyes darken with possessiveness as he watches your reactions, his fingers still buried deep inside you. He can feel the wetness and warmth around his digits, evidence of the pleasure he has brought you. The thought of his seed filling you, the possibility of creating an heir, sends a surge of pride through him.

His thumb brushes against your sensitive pearl, eliciting a shudder from your body. He can sense your sensitivity, the overstimulation that threatens to overwhelm you. But he doesn't stop, his fingers continuing their relentless assault on your pleasure.

"You're mine… My dragoness" he murmurs, his voice low and almost commanding. "And I will fill you with my seed until you bear me a child. You will be the mother of my heir“

Daemon watches you, his fingers still buried deep inside you. His fingers move faster, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. He can feel the tension building within you, your body on the precipice of another climax. He wants to take you there, to see you come undone in his arms once more.

As the waves of pleasure begin to build once again, you can feel his fingers curling inside you, hitting that sweet spot that sends sparks of ecstasy coursing through your body. It's almost too much to bear, the pleasure threatening to consume you.

And as your moans fill the air, your body convulsing around his fingers, he knows he has succeeded. He watches with satisfaction as your pleasure washes over you, your walls clenching around his fingers. In his mind, your precious womb sucks up his seed with every contraction.

Finally he slowly pulls his fingers out of you – a mixture of his seed and your arousal covers his fingers. He smiles and collapses next to you on the bed, his breathing still heavy and laboured.

He looks at you, his eyes glowing with satisfaction. You smile almost shyly before his arm wraps around your middle and pulls you closer. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling your scent. His fingers glide gently over your abdomen as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear - your heavy breathing and light giggles fill the air.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

An Illness of a Different Kind

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous (x3) and @aestheticdaisies

Synopsis: you (5) get sick, but you don’t want to tell your brothers because of something they did to you.

Warnings: hurt feelings, illness, throwing up.

For you, the morning began as any other. You’d wandered out of your room the minute you woke up, and went to the kitchen in search of your brothers.

You found Dean sitting at the counter, and wasted no time in toddling over to him and demanding to be picked up. Being only 5, you took no notice of the dark circles under his eyes or the fierceness in his gaze. But you did see the mark on his arm that hadn’t been there before.

You grabbed his arm and pulled it to you, running your fingers over the strange symbol.

“Somebody hurted you?” You asked him—you’d seen many scars in your short life, and a scar was the closest thing you’d seen to the Mark of Cain.

“No,” Dean answered gruffly, yanking his sleeve down. With the mark had come a strangely powerful anger that kept him awake, and he found it growing when you touched the mark, along with a pain in his arm that pulsed and expanded and made him want to snap.

“What happened?” You asked, and Dean softened when you blinked up at him innocently.

“Don’t worry about it,” he insisted.

You obeyed, your mind instantly finding something else to focus on.

“De, I’m hungry.”

Dean barely bit back a snarky remark, reminding himself that you were only five, and it was his job to get you fed.

“Fine,” Dean grumbled, standing up and setting you down in his seat before turning to the fridge. “Want some eggs?”

“No,” you argued. “I want Fruit Loops.”

Dean rolled his eyes, setting the egg carton back down and snatching the milk. “Fine,” he repeated.

“You’re grumpy,” you noted simply.

“What’d you say to me?” Dean snapped, turning on his heel to glare at you. You were taken aback, and your mouth slammed shut as you shrunk in your chair. “That’s what I thought,” Dean huffed, tossing a bowl down in front of you and filling it with cereal. He poured the milk in and shoved the bowl closer to you.

With shaky fingers, you picked up the spoon he offered and swallowed down a mouthful of cereal. Dean wasn’t watching anymore, so he didn’t pick up on the way you cringed. He did see how you pushed the bowl away, though. His arm pulsed in pain, and he gritted his teeth as he spoke to you.

“What’s wrong now?”

“I don’t like it,” you whined. “It tastes bad.”

“Of course,” Dean scoffed. “You know, can’t anything just be easy with you?” He grabbed your bowl, throwing it into the sink; except he threw it much harder than he meant to, and the glass bowl smashed against the wall above the sink. But Dean didn’t even flinch as shattered glass and spilled milk fell to the floor, but you were shaking in your seat as he turned his anger back to you. “Can’t you ever just take what I give you and be grateful? Can’t you ever just stop whining and shut up?!”

You jumped down off your stool and ran for the door, and Dean stiffened in surprise. His anger was fading almost as fast as it had sprung up, the pain in his arm weakening. He had never yelled at you like that, especially not over something so stupid.

“What’s with the mess?” Sam’s sudden presence in the kitchen snapped Dean out of his stupor.

“I…dropped a bowl,” Dean mumbled.

Sam hummed. “I’m gonna take Y/N to school,” he announced, grabbing an apple out of the fridge and moving to put the milk away before stopping. “And I’ll stop at the store on the way home,” he added, tossing the milk in the trash can and heading for the door, adding over his shoulder—“the milk’s expired.”

…

Dean stewed in his room all day, considering the events of the morning. He’d always struggled with his anger, but it had never taken control of him like that—especially not in front of you. This mark on his arm would only get worse, so he had to take control of it.

If he could snap like that over some milk—

How much control did Cain’s Mark have over him?

“Hey.” Sam knocked at Dean’s semi-open door to announce his presence. “You find anything else out about Abaddon?”

Dean closed his laptop—he hadn’t really been looking at it anyway.

“Not yet,” Dean admitted. “You picked up Y/N from school already?”

“Yeah, and I wanted to talk to you about that. I got an email from one of her classmate’s mom. Her kid is sick, and she thinks there’s something going around. Y/N always seems to catch these things when they go around, so I want to watch her to see if she starts getting sick.”

Dean hummed in agreement, but when Sam started to leave Dean stopped him.

“Wait, I…I don’t know if you want me hanging around her much.”

Sam was immediately suspicious. “Why? What happened?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Dean insisted. “The mark is dangerous, and I want to keep her away from it.”

“She lives here, Dean,” Sam argued. “And you’re her big brother. We can’t just keep her away from you.” He huffed. “Is that why she was so quiet this morning? Dean, you can’t run from this, you gotta deal with it.”

Dean gritted his teeth as his arm pulsed in pain, and he didn’t respond to his brother for a long moment.

“Fine,” he decided. “But if I start getting worse ‘cause of this thing, then we go back to my plan and you keep her away from me.”

Sam gave his brother a sharp nod, and Dean reluctantly stood and went to check on you.

…

You were laying on your bed—unusual for so early in the afternoon—with your back to Dean when he knocked and entered your room.

“Hey kid,” he greeted, and he could swear he heard your breath catch. “Takin a nap?”

You sidestepped his question, sitting up. “Do you need something?” You asked. “I can get up.”

Dean swallowed. He couldn’t do this—let you worry so much about pleasing him; you were only 5. He couldn’t let you turn into him.

“No, no it’s ok,” he assured you. “How are you feeling?” Pain shot into Dean’s arm, and he felt his impatience growing, but he tamped it down and focused on you.

“I’m fine.” You couldn’t meet his eye, a sure sign that you were lying.

“Are you getting sick?” He asked, pushing your answer—your face was pale, and he didn’t believe you.

“I’m fine,” you repeated with a sniffle. Before Dean could challenge you, you hopped off your bed and went to your desk. “I gotta do homework with Sammy,” you mumbled, picking up your addition workbook and rushing out of the room.

Dean rubbed at his arm, biting back a huff of annoyance. Getting you to talk to him now would be harder than he thought.

…

Dean was halfway down the hallway when he caught up to you—you were doubled over, whatever you’d had for lunch no longer in your stomach.

“Whoa whoa, hey—“ Dean rushed you to, and it took much more concentration than it should have for him to be gentle when he pulled your hair away from your face and held it back.

“I’m sorry.” When you finally stopped, tears streaming down your face, those were the first words you said.

“Don’t be sorry,” he soothed.

“What’s going on?” Sam stepped into the hallway then stopped in his tracks.

“Can you clean up?” Dean asked as he lifted you into his arms. “I’ve got her.”

“You sure?” Sam looked from you to Dean, and Dean again had to push down an unwarranted anger.

“I’ve got her,” he repeated, and without another word he turned and carried you to your bathroom. “I’m gonna get you some clean clothes, you brush your teeth, ok?”

You obeyed without comment, and soon enough you were cleaned up and resting in your bed.

“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t feel good?” Dean asked.

You fiddled with your sheets while you answered, “I didn’t wanna be whiny.”

Dean’s own words flashed in his mind, and he cringed.

“Kiddo, I didn’t mean to yell at you this morning. If you’re sick, you gotta tell me, ok?”

“Why were you so angry?” You sniffled, your eyes once again brimming with tears.

Dean sighed, searching for the right way to answer you. Eventually, he decided on the truth—you deserved that.

“See this mark?” He held out his arm to you. “It’s magic. It makes me stronger—but sometimes it makes me angry, too.”

“Can you make it go away?” You asked.

“I…don’t know,” Dean answered honestly. “But I’m gonna try hard to not let it make me mean, ok? So long as you try really hard to always tell me how you’re feeling.”

“Ok,” you agreed. “De? I feel sick.”

Dean but back a smile, nodding.

“Ok, thanks for telling me. What hurts, kiddo?”

“My tummy,” you said. “And I’m sleepy.”

“Ok, yeah. I’m gonna get you some water, and I want you to take a nap, ok?”

“But I don’t want to, my tummy hurts too much.” The tears were falling now, and Dean had to bite back half a dozen angry responses that came far too quickly to his mind.

“Just try, ok? Try for me kid.”

“I don’t want to.” You were nearly sobbing now, and Dean had to clench his fist under your blanket to keep himself in check.

She’s just grumpy because she’s in pain, he told himself. It’s not her fault.

Despite this, Dean felt his anger continue to grow—he had to get out of this room.

“I’m gonna go get Sam,” he told you, rushing out of the room before you could protest.

Dean took slow, measured breaths, trying to force his anger down.

“She ok?” Sam’s voice set Dean’s teeth on edge, and again he found himself biting back harsh words.

“Sick,” Dean said. “She’s sick. I can’t get her to sleep, can you…”

Sam recognized Dean’s stiff stance and clenched fists immediately, and took over.

“I’ve got her,” Sam assured him. “Don’t worry about it.”

…

“Don’t worry about it” didn’t last long, but your illness did. Long after the sickness passed in your K5 class, you were still holed up in your room, not able to keep down anything but broth and water—if Sam fed it to you slowly enough.

He took you to the doctor half a a dozen times over the next month, but it didn’t help; no one knew what was wrong. Sam felt like he was being pulled apart at the edges, between trying to save Dean from the Mark and trying to save you from your illness, all while having to deal with your tantrums and Dean’s outbursts, neither of which he could blame on the two of you—a five year old in pain is going to cry, and a man with the Mark of Cain is going to have anger issues.

Sam just had to be on the receiving end of both.

By the end of the second month, Sam was desperate. Cas and Rowena had tried a million different ways to heal you, but nothing worked. He’d gone through every lore book, but couldn’t find a way to get rid of the Mark of Cain.

He just couldn’t win.

Especially now, with you crying on the couch and Dean was arguing with a silent Cas.

As your cries grew louder and Dean’s anger became more potent, Sam physically felt his final nerve snap.

“Would both of you shut up?!” He demanded. The room became deadly silent. “I can’t take it anymore! The two of you are going to kill me at this rate! All I need is a single moment of peace, ok?!”

The simple outburst was followed by a dispersion of the anger in Sam’s chest—he hadn’t screamed at anyone like that since his father was alive.

The moment was followed by a deep shame when you jumped up off the couch and ran for your room—the most you’d moved in weeks, and it was to escape his anger.

Dean didn’t seem to know what to do; it was the first time in weeks that he wasn’t the angriest person in the room.

“I’m so—I’m sorry.” Sam swallowed. “I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Dean insisted; he understood better than anyone the need to get out your anger. “But you might wanna go tell that to Y/N.”

…

Sam’s heart dropped at the sound of your sobs as he slipped into your room.

“Hey kiddo,” he greeted, and he cringed when your body stiffened on your bed.

“Did I do something bad?” You whimpered, and Sam swore his heart broke.

“No, no sweetheart.” Sam sat on the edge of your bed, giving you a little space if you wanted it. “I just got angry.”

“Did you get Dean’s mean mark?”

“No.” Sam smiled faintly. “I just get mad sometimes.” Sam was relieved when you found your way into his lap—you weren’t upset.

“But you don’t yell,” you said. “And I didn’t like it.”

“I know.” Sam sighed. “I’m sorry.” He kissed your head, cradling you in his lap. “You’ve got a doctor’s appointment tomorrow,” he said absently. “Maybe they can finally get you something to make you feel better. That’d be nice, yeah?” He looked down when he didn’t hear a response from you.

You were fast asleep.

…

Sam was having a great day. Dean had slept for a ridiculously long time (like 8 hours) last night, and his mood had—somewhat—improved. And whatever ridiculous cocktail of half a dozen medications the doctor had put you on was finally working—you’d eaten pizza last night, and you were in front of Sam demolishing a giant waffle now for breakfast.

“You sure you’re feeling better, kid?” Dean asked for the millionth time. You nodded, swallowing down the last bites of your waffle before jumping up on your chair and then into Dean’s arms. Sam noticed that you were getting syrup all over Dean, who was being surprisingly patient with you as he cleaned you up.

“Now we just gotta make you feel better,” you insisted, poking at Dean’s Mark.

“Yeah.” Dean cringed. “I’m sure we will.”

Sam knew that Dean didn’t mean it—they knew nothing more about the Mark then they did two months ago—but the fact that he was keeping a brave face for you was good; it was like the old Dean.

Sometimes Sam wasn’t so sure about his family—the one that felt like it was held together with duct tape and safety pins—but he knew that as long as they held onto each other, they’d turn out ok.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely @studiogrimm810 @tell-elle

[pr1ncemax]

i think the thing thats getting me most about the watcher situation is that the worth it style videos aren't even the issue ??? like. Spending 1,000$ on food for content isn't the issue

the issue is paying 13+ staff members on a fucking lets play video, or a video of them just getting drunk in their own backyard.

example, their backrooms video game lets play Video which has 450K views and 21K likes

And I know some of these are repeat staff with more than one role but they have listed out:

HOSTED BY x2

DIRECTOR x1

PRODUCER x1

Tech Director x1

EDITOR x1

POST PRODUCTION SUPERVISOR x 1

PRODUCTION COORDINATOR x1

GAFFER x1

CAMERA OPERATOR x1

SOUND MIXER x1

PA x1

ASSISTANT EDITORx 1

LOGO DESIGNER x1

HEAD OF DEVELOPMENTx 1

HEAD OF PRODUCTION x1

HEAD OF POST PRODUCTION x1

EXECUTIVE PRODUCERS x3

that's at least 20 roles. Roughly, 10-12 people. They're paying 10-12 people for a LET'S PLAY VIDEO.

Markiplier, on his most recent let's play video, has 1.5 MILLION views, and 124K likes.

He has himself, and three editors. That's it. FOUR people.

I don't think you need 10+ people for a fucking let's play video watcher. I really don't think you do.

And clearly, their idea of 'quality' isn't what people flock too. Because Markiplier is literally sitting in a room with a facecam. And yet, watcher only has 45% of the views that mark does.

There's a reason.

People don't care about quality, they care about personality. If you think you need more money to create this content, then fix what you're doing, don't go panhandling from your fans? Look at other content creators to see what they do. There's a reason Mythical is doing as well as they are, there's a reason college humor got to the point of dropout after years. The method forward is not alienation or guilt-tripping of what 'real' fans do. The method forward is figuring out something more sustainable. Getting a quick and bigger influx of cash isn't sustainable, without the content and game plan to back it up.

[psychic-pigeons]

hey if you write a pattern for the chilchuck amigurumi I will buy it instantly

ive gotten multiple asks about this, so ill just answer them all here in one go.

i wrote down everything while i was working on it, but i theres some stuff that i would do diffrently and i also didnt take a lot of process pics so it wont be a full proper pattern for those reasons, but ill add all that i have under the cut!

i dont want any compensation, but if you wanna do me a favor you can donate to esims for gaza, unrwa, any of these gefundme's, or another trusted charity of your choice.

now to the pattern! i would love to see the results of anyone making a squeakychuck, feel free to tag or dm me :)

the dimensions of this depend on the size of ur squeaker and yarn, i had a 4ish cm squeaker and somewhat thick 4/8 cotton yarn (kinda 6/8ish thickness). depending on ur yarn and squeaker u might need to follow a different pattern for the body.

if youre using a different body base pattern, the tunic and blouse pattern are pretty easily adjustable. ill add some notes for that at those sections of the pattern. ill also link some videos i used at relevant sections.

if theres an Action store near where u live, see pic below for the yarn i used for the skin, reddish brown, black and light brown. i got 3 of these but 2 packs was enough. the dark brown and creme were from my stash. i also got the squeaker from a donut dog toy from Action.

-

abreviations list (all in us terms):

mr = magic ring

sc = single crochet

hdc = half dubble crochet

slst = slipstitch

ch = chain

bobble = 5 double crochet in one stitch

4inc = 4 sc in one

4 inc = increase in the next four stitches

BLO = back loop only

FLO = front loop only

what you need:

-skin color of choice yarn

-creme/white yarn (normal for body, thin for blouse)

-greyish creme (for boot flaps)

-black yarn

-dark brown yarn

-light brown yarn

-reddish brown yarn

-green yarn

-4 tiny buttons (for arm joints)

-cardboard (for shoe sole

-3.5mm hook

-squeaker

-needlefelt needle

-stuffing

-stitchmarker (optional, i always mark the first stitch of the round)

-

once again disclaimer, this is not a propper pattern, this is just what i wrote down while i was crochetting. it may not nessecarily be the best way to do it. i wanted most clothes to be removable, but you have to partially disassemble the doll if you want to remove them. if you dont like how something looks or works ur free to do whatever you want. big fan of fucking around and finding out personally.

if you have any questions feel free to dm me, might take me a while to reply though.

-

SQUEAKY CHUCK PATTERN 3.5mm hook

head (skin)

r1: sc 6 in mr

r2: (inc) x6

r3: (sc 1, inc) x6

r4: (sc 2, inc) x6

r5: (sc3, inc) x6

r6: (sc4, inc) x6

r7: (sc 5, inc) x6

r8-15 : sc 42

r16: (sc 5, dec) x6

r17: (sc 4, dec) x6

r18: (sc3, dec) x6

r19: (sc2, dec) x6

r20: (sc 1, dec) x6

r21: sc 12

slst, fasten off

ears x2 (skin)

r1: sc6 in mc

r2: (inc) x6

r3: (sc, inc) x6

r4-6: sc 18

r7: dec 9. slst fatsen off.

Body - leg up (skin, black, thick creme)

start with skin

r1: ch 6, inc in 2nd from hook, sc 3, 4inc, sc 3, inc

r2: inc 2, sc 3, inc 4, sc 3, inc 2

r3: inc 3, sc 5, inc 6, sc 5, inc 3

r4: BLO sc in all

r5: sc 3, dec 2, sc 3, dec 2, sc 6, dec 2, sc 3, dec 2, sc 3

r6: sc 1, dec, sc 4, dec 6, sc 4, dec, sc 1.

r7: sc 6, dec 3, sc 6

stuff

-r8 dec, sc in all

change color to black [color change video]

r9-23: sc in all

1st leg: fasten off

2nd leg [joining legs video]:

r24: sc7, ch 1, sc join in 1st leg after last sc, sc13, sc1 in visible v loop of ch1, sc 7

r25: sc7, sc 1 in remaining v loop of ch1, sc21

r26-31: sc 28

r32: sc 7, change color to creme/white, slst 1, sc 20

r33-35: sc 29

r36: (sc 8, dec) x3

r37: (sc7, dec) x3

r38: (sc6, dec)x3

add squeaker

r39: sc21

r40: (sc 5, dec) x3

r41-42: sc18

r43: (sc 1, dec) x6

fasten off

Arms (skin, dark brown)

i made the arms movable with button joints, but after looking at some videos i discovered that what i did is not called a button joint and i dont have a video explaining it, so i hope this drawing helps.

the red bits are the buttons inside of the arms and body, and the thread (blue for clarity, i matched it w the skin) should be pulled tight and finished off with a double or tripple knot inside the body.

or you could just sew on the arms that also works. but wait with doing that until youve finished the blouse as the hands dont fit through the sleeves. i have a seperate section on assembly at the end of the pattern.

start with skin

r1:sc6 in mc

r2: inc x6

r3(sc, inc)x6

r4 : sc 18

change color to brown

r5: sc 18

1st arm r6: sc 3, bobble, sc 14.

2nd arm r6.2: sc 14, boble, sc 3

[i matched the top loop to the bobble color but i think it would look better if u didnt]

r7: sc 18

r8: (sc 4, dec)x3

r9: (sc 3, dec)x3

r10 sc12

color switch to skin (you might want to do this a round earlier, i didnt initially plan on making the gloves flared, and this color change part can sometimes be seen and look kinda weird)

r11-14: sc 12

r15: (sc4, dec)x2

r16-19 : sc 10

r20: (sc3, dec)x2

r21: sc8

insert button joint

r28: (sc2, dec)x2

slst, sew shut

glove flare (dark brown)

r1: ch 15, slst join LONG TAIL

r2: (sc4, inc)x3

r3: sc4, inc, sc8, inc, sc 4

r4: sc 2, slst fasten off

sew 2 rows below thumb bobble

boots (light brown, dark brown, greyish creme) [video]

these are removable but they dont go on easily, so you gotta patiently massage the feet in there.

start with light brown

ch 7, start in 2nd from hook:

r1: sc 5, 3inc, sc 4, inc

r2: inc, sc 4, inc 3, sc 4, inc 2

r3: inc, sc 5, hdc inc 7, sc 5, inc 2

r4: slst fasten off. sew in holes/tails, fray ends for flat gluejob. trace onto cardboard for sole.

switch color to dark brown

r1: BLO join slst, BLO sc in all

r2-3: sc in all

glue in sole

r4: sc 8, dec 5, sc 12

r5: sc 7, dec 4, sc 10

r6: sc7, dec2, sc 10

r7-10: sc in all

switch color to greyish creme

r11-12: sc in all

r13: slst, FLO sc in all

r14-16: sc all

slst fasten off

flip the greyish creme flap over.

blouse (thinner creme)

this is a standard raglan pattern, if you need the whole thing bigger/smaller you need to have more/less chains at the beginning. this change also carries over to the collar. the increases are evenly spaced for me, and unless your doll has a very broad chest this shouldnt have to change.

if the arms need more space you need to either add more rows to the r3-7 part and/or add more chains in r8 (this part should fit pretty sugg around the body)

i was experimenting a bit w using BLO to minimize the gap where the sleeve and body seperate (r8). it worked p good but you can ignore it if you dont understand it and just sc in all.

(edit: if this confuses you, understandable. I answered an ask abt it here but feel free to ask if its still unclear)

r1: ch24, slst join.

r2: (sc 5, inc) x4

r3-7: inc in first of previous inc. last row should have 10 sc between increases.

r8: sc5, blo sc 1, ch 5, blo sc join in 1st of next inc, sc 11, blo sc1, ch5, blo sc join in 1st st of next inc, sc 5

r9: sc6, blo sc 1, sc 5, blo sc1, sc11, blo sc 1, sc 5, blo sc 1, sc 6

r10-13: sc in all (36)

r14: (sc8, inc)x4

r15: sc in all (40)

slst finish off

Sleeve

r1: join mid armpit, slst ,sc2, sc in the leftover bits from the BLO stitches, sc 11, sc in leftover BLO bits, sc2

r2-6: sc in all

collar

join left-middle front, sc 7, inc, sc8, inc, sc 7. turn

r2: sc7, inc, sc 10, inc, sc 7. turn

r3: sc8, inc, sc 10, inc, sc 8. turn

cuffs

r1: join mid body-facing side, FLO sc 20

r2-4: sc 20, slst fatsen off

Tunic (red brown) [tunesian entrelac crochet]

if you want to make this bigger i recommend keeping the same square layout, but making the squares bigger. its a bit of measuring and math to figure it out.

the tunic is made in tunesian crochet and i dont really know what written patterns for that look like so i hope this makes sense.

for a single square:

r1: ch4, start in 2nd back bump from hook. pull up a loop from ever back bump. you should have 4 loops on your hook total. simplestitch in all

r2-4: simplestitch in all.

r5: slst in all. fasten off

for the slanted parts i did the decrease by pulling through the middle 2 loops in one go on the back pass

this is how the full thing should look, its worked from bottom left to top right.

sew together the shoulders together, then sew in all of the ends

:) good luck

tunesian crochet has a tendancy to curl, so if you used cotton i def recommend blocking it

i defined the grid a little bit with a dark brown pencil.

cowl (green)

BLO sc 7, repeat till desired lenght, then BLO slst join the last row to the first.

scalp undercut bit (dark brown)

r1: sc 6 in mr

r2: (inc) x6

r3: (sc 1, inc) x6

r4: (sc 2, inc) x6

r5: (sc3, inc) x6

r6: (sc 4, inc)x6

r7: sc36

sew on back of the head (recommend doing this before the ears and face, see end for more detailed assembly instructions)

hair (reddish brown) [hair video]

disclaimer, this is kind of a mess. the lenghts didnt line up the way i intended so i improvised by adding loose strands and spent a lot of time pinning every strand in place before glueing them down.

i used bison kit contact glue since its sturdy, transparant, flexible and waterproof. you can use hot glue as well, i just personally dont like it because its bulky.

r1: sc 21 in mc. join BLO slst

r2: ch 12, sc in 2nd from hook, gdc10, BLO slst join

r3: ch 12, sc in 2nd from hook, gdc10, BLO slst join

r4: ch13, sc in 2nd from hook, hdc 11, BLO slst join

r5: ch13, sc in 2nd from hook, hdc 11, BLO slst join

r6: ch 14, sc in 2nd from hook, hdc 12, BLO slst join

r7: ch16, sc in 2nd form hook, hdc 14, BLO slst join

r8: ch 18, sc in 2nd from hook, hdc 16, BLO slst join

r9: ch 18, sc in 2nd from hook, hdc 16, BLO slst join

r10: ch 14, sc in 2nd from hook, hdc 12, BLO slst join

r11: ch 12, sc in 2nd from hook, hdc 10, BLO slst join

r12: ch 10, sc in 2nd from hook, hdc 8, BLO slst join

from now on, join in the FLO's of previous round

r13: ch10, sc in 2nd from hook, hdc 8, FLO slst join

r14: ch10, sc in 2nd from hook, hdc 8 , FLO slst join

r15: ch12, sc in 2nd from hook, hdc 10 , FLO slst join

r16: ch12, sc in 2nd from hook, hdc 10 , FLO slst join

r17: ch14, sc in 2nd from hook, hdc 12 , FLO slst join

r18: ch16, sc in 2nd form hook, hdc 14, FLO slst join

r19: ch 18, sc in 2nd from hook, hdc 16, FLO slst join

r20: ch16, sc in 2nd form hook, hdc 14, FLO slst join

r21: ch14, sc in 2nd from hook, hdc 12 , FLO slst join

1x ch 6, sc in 2nd from hook, hdc 4

2x ch8, sc in 2nd from hook, hdc 6

2x ch 10, sc in 2nd from chain, hdc 8, slst in same, fasten off.

2x ch 12, sc in 2nd from chain, hdc 10, slst in same, fasten off.

3x ch14

pin all in place until it looks good, tie +glue loose strands first. then glue back pieces, crown, and lastly bangs/ top back layer. some of the lose strands go behind the ears, one is the left sideburn, and the rest is to cover up the crown. these pics are the best i can do as a guide, this was my first time doing this so i was struggling lol.

i didnt fully glue down the bangs and the top back layer bc i thought it would be fun if u could ruffle his hair, but my friend who i gave the plush to has significantly abused him (its been 2 days) and his hair is a mess so im gonna have to glue it down again lol. might as well do it all the first time if u plan on throwing him down the stairs or something.

Face

for eyes + eyebrows, embroider outline with dark brown, then needle felt [video] the inner parts w unraveled dark brown fluff. the dark brown i used was probably acrylic. cotton doesnt really work well for this.

Belt and pouch (dark brown)

the belt is a 3 strand basic friendship bracelet! [video]

sew together the ends and hide it with by sewing the pouch on top.

i didnt write down the pattern for the pouch, but from the top of my head its the same start as the squares for the tunic

r1-9: simple stitch in all

r10: simple stitch 1, decrease by putting your hook through 2 vertical bars when pulling up a loop, simple stitch edge 1.

r11: slst in all, finish with a long tail

use tail to sew together the sides, and sew the pouch onto the belt. use some yellow thread to make a button.

ASSEMBLY.

put on the blouse, put the arms in their place and finish the button joints.

put on the tunic, lace the sides with dark brown yarn, finish with a knot and hide the tails underneath the chest part of the tunic.

slide on the belt and boots.

sew the scalp undercut bit to the head

sew the ears to the head

tie + glue the loose hair strands behind the ears

glue the back of the hair

glue the back of the hair

glue the middle circle part of the hair

glue the top back layer and bangs

sew the head to the body

put on the cowl

i hope this is somewhat clear, feel free to dm me is you have questions.

enjoy your squeakychuck :D

[37sommz]

✼. THRU SPACE 'N TIME | PROFILE.

001.⠀⠀THE BIOGRAPHY⠀!⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀

BIRTH NAME: michaela jeanette sommers NICKNAMES: mitch, mickey DOB: dec. 23, 1999 HOMETOWN: gold coast, australia ETHNICITY: australian & xhosa NATIONALITY: australian LANGUAGES: english & italian HEIGHT: 176 cm WEIGHT: 55 kg DOMINANT HAND: left FAMILY: mother, father, older sister

Born in Gold Coast, Australia on December 23, 1999, Michaela Sommers was introduced to the world of motorsports from an early age. Her father, Tobias, and his brother, Travis, were avid Formula racing fans who idolized the likes of Senna, Schumacher, and Lauda. The motorsports bug skipped over Sommers' older sister, Courtney, before biting her at the mere age of six. By her ninth birthday, Michaela was competing in karting championships along the Australian east coast.

Despite her natural aptitude for racing, Michaela recalls facing discrimination for both her race and gender quite early on while karting, even going as far as entering under a male name to avoid arbitrary sponsorship barriers. Despite the negativity that would swirl around her reputation, the young driver would win her first national championship at the age of twelve with plenty of rumors circling concerning her future in the sport. Sommers would attempt to enter her first international competition but was forced to pull out after her father lost his job in the summer of 2012.

Without much hope, Michaela would step back from racing for nearly six months before eventually deciding to join her uncle who had moved to England after his marriage just years prior. Travis then became Michaela's manager, working endlessly to ensure his niece would be able to continue climbing the karting ladder. Shortly after her move to England, her uncle would connect with Australian F1 driver Mark Webber who would travel to watch her race in a regional competition in 2013. Stunned by her potential, Webber helped the young girl to catch the attention of a racing team competing in the Ginetta Junior Championship alongside future McLaren teammate Lando Norris. Sommers' transition to racing cars would prove successful, securing a junior championship at just 14 years old.

Sommers would continue working through the ranks, receiving extensive media attention and comparisons to Lewis Hamilton as a teenager. Spending one year at the Formula 3 level, Michaela would race for British team Jagonya Ayam in 2015 finishing fifth in the championship and second in the rookie cup, both below Charles Leclerc. Her performance would catch the attention of Italian team Prema Racing who signed her to development for higher formulae alongside Pierre Gasly for the 2016 season.

Despite an average result, ending her rookie season in sixth place, Prema would resign the Australian who would be simultaneously be selected to join the Ferrari driver development program for the 2017 season. That same year, Sommers would wrap up her Formula 2 season in second place, once again behind Charles Leclerc.

Eventually, Michaela would finally secure a Formula 2 championship in 2018 while signing on as a reserve driver for Ferrari. Her official Formula One debut came after Sommers signed on to be Alfa Romeo's second-seat driver for the 2019 season, securing two points in her debut race before finishing her rookie season in eighth place.

002.⠀⠀THE STATISTICS⠀!⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀

FORMULA ONE (2019) alfa romeo racing, #37 ✼.⠀raikonnen & sommers ✼.⠀highest finish: 4th (x1) ✼.⠀championship standing: 8th ✼.⠀95 points

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[teez-the-time]

Choi San, Wolf Warrior

Pairing: Warrior! San x Chief's daughter! Fem! Reader

Genre: fantasy, action, romance, angst

Synopsis: Ten years ago, your best friend San promised his eternal love to you. Now, the danger of his oath creeps through the both of you, and he has to bear the weight of his words. No matter what his fate will be, you must remember that he is the Wolf Warrior.

Warnings: Blood, wounds, death (animals die, I'm so sorry), weapons, cursing, San is fucking RIPPED, reader doesn't do much (sorry again), way too much flashbacks and monologuing (sorry x3, but I do not know how to stop), sappy af.

Wc: 7.8k

Taglist: @darkdayelixer

A/N. Well, it's finally here. This is officially my first fanfic posted here. Do I believe this is my best work? No. Do I care? Maybe, but I appreciate any feedback that you might have (please take into account that English is not my first language, so I rely in grammar checkers and that stuff). I'm not sure if I should keep the second person format, but you tell me what you think. Again, I'm open to suggestions and kind criticism. If the story sucks, sorry not sorry.

Once again, I'm eternally gratefull for the support I've received in this platform. Whatever you need, my DMs are always open.

XOXO -May

A little treat for those who liked the story.

Your tribe had a sacred tradition.

The first hunt is the most sacred; dedicated to whom you thank your life for.

The best hunt is the most important; dedicated to whom you’d die for.

That is why you couldn’t help but tremble while looking at San down below.

Even if he had clearly announced his decision to embark on the journey no more than a couple of months ago, nothing could have prepared your heart.

Not even kneeling alongside your father and your mother at a higher ground, far away from where he stood, could you escape the power radiating from his stance. Even his posture was perfect; perfectly still and elegant, like a wolf just like the one he had marked with ink on his chest. His eyes looked up, and you knew your Sanie was long gone.

He was Choi San, the Wolf Warrior.

The drums started beating in an ancestral rhythm; one you had heard in too many unsuccessful attempts. Men and women below hollered and twirled their bodies to the music, almost in a spiritual trance brought by the excitement of the hunt. The sound got louder and louder in your chest, so hard that it felt like a second heart. Your hands were shaking and you couldn’t help the shivers that ran several times through your spine. You just kept praying for it to be over.

And just as they had started, the drums ceased as your father rose as the chief of the village. He, too, didn’t feel like your father anymore, his hierarchical title far outweighed the one of father right now. You couldn’t decipher his expression, no longer familiar to you.

“Choi San”, his voice boomed through the whole village, “why are you here today?”

To you, San didn’t look intimidated one bit. “I’ve returned to fulfill my promise made sixty-two days ago, in this very place.”

This was all part of the ceremony, nothing more than a formality, but your heart fluttered with San’s words. But still, you knew he was wrong. No, he didn’t make that promise sixty-two days prior. He had made it way before that when you both were young kids.

He had promised to marry you ten years ago, at age twelve.

But your father didn’t find it that endearing. “An oath like that can’t be made by anyone. Are you sure you will be able to keep it?���.

San didn’t fall for the taunting. “Absolutely, sir.”

“Are you sure? Do you even know the consequences?”

Everyone knew them, even more San. “Yes, sir. I know them.”

“Are you willing to go through them then? Even if it means your death?”

With that, San let out a grin. “Especially if it means my death…sir.”

Then, the chief let go of the mocking stance he had tried and became solemn again. For the briefest second, you had hoped San stepped down, but you also knew him like the back of your hand. You knew he never backed down from a challenge.

Your father cleared his throat. “Very well, then. Seeing your determination to proceed, I’ll remind you once more of the rules.”

The few whispers and hushed voices that had been going around since the start finally came to a halt. The newfound silence made your head spin and your palms shake even more.

Gods, you prayed, don’t let harm come to my San. Please give him my strength and my will if he needs them.

“Rule number one. You have only one chance. If it’s lost, it’s lost. Gone forever.”

“Rule number two. You will not receive aid from anyone or anything. The village will only intercede if the hunt doesn’t finish with the beast’s death.”

“Rule number three. You will only carry one weapon of your choice and no armor. Any of those will deem the attempt failed, and you will lose your only chance.”

“Rule number four. The hunt only stops after one of you is dead.”

While your father talked, San seemed unfazed. Even if he already knew the rules, it made you uneasy to not know what he was thinking. You felt the urge to run to where he stood, grab his hand, and smooth out the crease on his brow that always popped up when he was thinking hard.

You yearned for nothing more than to be by his side.

“Choi San,” now your father spoke in a warning tone, “dare to break the rules, and you will face consequences bigger than what you can imagine. I will make sure of that.”

Not once had San looked intimidated, and that put your heart at ease (just a tiny bit, if you are being honest).

“I understood perfectly, sir.” San had always respected your father as a chief, so he always tried to keep his composure despite the adrenaline in his veins making him want nothing more than to begin with the hunt. But he had to remain polite, especially now that he was trying to become his successor.

“Good,” the chief stated plainly. “If there’s nothing else to say…let the hunt begin!”

The drums resumed in a frenetic rhythm, making your heart race once more. Nevertheless, below where you sat, San seemed pumped by it. He let the thick fur coat he wore fall to the ground, exposing his naked torso and ripped pants. You knew he did it to prove he wore nothing to protect him, but you couldn’t the blush that crept to your cheeks.

“Holy shit, that was hot” you murmured unintentionally. You looked to your left to see if your parents heard. Your father didn’t appear to have listened to you, concentrated on his duty as referee, but your mother let out a snort. You shot her a glare and she tried to suppress her laughter.

Trying to appear unfazed, you looked back at San. He was now holding a beautiful sword, which you knew like the back of your hand. The hilt was golden and decorated with flowers and power symbols. A short inscription written at the butt.

Choi San, the Wolf Warrior.

It was barely more than his name, but San had spent a fortune having it engraved in the shape of your handwriting. You smiled at the memory of a sixteen-year-old San running to show you his new possession.

“Y/N! Y/N!” you heard your name being shouted from behind you. When you turned, it was San running towards you at full speed, holding a piece of fabric in his hands. He finally reached you, showing his dimpled smile. “Geez, why do you have those ears if you can't even listen when one is shouting at you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, shut it. Not my fault you are so out of breath that I couldn’t understand shit of what you were shouting.”

“I was not-!” He looked like he wanted to bicker, again, with you, but he cut himself short. “It doesn’t matter, look what I got!” He proceeded to remove part of the folded fabric, exposing a shiny object. The blade of a sword. You let out a gasp and he chuckled. “Beautiful, isn’t it? But there’s more.”

He uncovered the rest of the weapon, and your eyes fell on the golden inscription. The letters were masterfully carved on the metal, so much it took you a moment to realize it was written in your handwriting.

“Is this…?” You didn’t even finish your sentence, and San already knew what you were trying to say.

“Yes. Custom-made from the best welder in town. It cost me a fortune, but it’s worth it.” San was grinning like an idiot at what he thought was an accomplishment.

Nevertheless, that didn’t sit right with you (even though you couldn’t deny that your heart was racing like a horse). “Are you dumb?! Why are you spending your money on dumb things like this?”

Your heart broke a little when you saw his smile falter. “What are you saying? Of course, it’s not dumb!”

“Yes, it is!”

“No, it 's not!”

“I said, yes it is!”

He frowned and grabbed your hand. “No, it’s not. Wanna know why? Because every time I wield it and see the hilt, I’ll be reminded of what I have back home. That I have someone waiting for me to come back. My treasure.”

His words from back then still made you feel warm, and after that, you always felt proud seeing him carry that sword.

Your gaze is torn away from the weapon to San himself. He was pacing around the makeshift arena planned for these occasions, warming up his limbs. His eyes seemed to wander through the place, not focusing on anyone, until they fell on you. Despite the seriousness that had ruled his behavior up until that point, he gifted you one of his characteristic smiles, which turned his eyes into two small crescents. Even with the loud music coming from the drums, you heard some girls squeal from his gesture, and you laughed at that.

San always knew how to lighten up the mood of every situation.

He kept walking until his back was turned from you, which you took as a chance to admire his sculptured figure. While he had always made clear to whom his heart belonged, that didn’t keep people from falling in love with his god-like looks. His chiseled torso was littered with tattoos, going around his arms, neck, and ribs, in addition to the big wolf head on his chest he had gotten when he was nineteen (when he had absolutely begged you to come with him for moral support).

His body was also covered in scars, mostly from battle wounds and hunting accidents. Some looked old and faded, while others appeared more recent. You knew each of them fully, seeing that you were the only one San let tend to him during those times. When he lowered his arms, you got a glimpse of his most famous one, which he bore on his left forearm. The one that earned him the title of Wolf Warrior, back when he was just twelve.

You stood waiting, just a few meters from the edge of the forest the boys had gone into a few days prior. Many of them had already returned and were celebrating all around you. But, still, there was no sign of San’s return.

You had accompanied San’s parents to wait for San to return from his ritual first hunt. For your people, this marked the beginning of manhood; a rite of passage from boys to men. It was the first time each of the boys would go hunting on their own, and they wouldn’t be allowed to come back without a prize. This ceremony was reserved for only the closest people in the boy’s life, but San’s parents had asked you to come since you were his best friend (and practically their niece, being their best friends’ daughter).

“It’s getting late, again,” San’s father said, and he was right. The sky was turning red and purple with the last lights of the day. Another day without San. “It’s only been three days, so it might still be early for him to return.”

“But most of the boys have come back,” his mother noted. She bit her lip, looking at the forest. Then, she looked at the grass and let out a sigh. “I guess you are right, we can wait another day.”

They moved to leave but stopped when they saw you hadn’t gone with them. “Y/N, let’s go home.”

You wanted to wait just a bit more. Just to be sure San wouldn’t come back that day. “I want to wait a few more minutes. If you want, you can go ahead and I’ll go back when I’m done. There are plenty of other parents here, so don’t worry about me!”

They didn’t look convinced, but they still let you. “Fine, but come back running to us if something happens.”

You waved them goodbye, but before long had passed, you saw some bushes rustle. You squinted to make sure your vision didn’t betray you, and a large figure emerged from the last line of trees. A scream rose to your throat when you saw the thick fur, but it soon died down when you saw the person carrying the furry mass.

“It’s San! It's San!” you shouted back at the distant figures of San’s parents. Thankfully, they had heard you, and they were sprinting back to your position. You ran behind them but stayed back when you saw them embrace their son.

“My son, my son is alright!” his mother repeated while holding him in her arms. Her husband embraced both of them without saying anything, but his face showed the relief he felt.

He is supposed to have returned a man, you thought while looking at the sweet scene, but they will still treat him like their baby.

“San is back!” you heard another boy say, “San came back from the hunt! But…what did he bring back though?”

That seemed to return San and his parents to reality. The ceremony wasn’t finished, as he still hadn’t presented his prize. They untangled themselves from their son and stepped back, allowing him to regain composure. It was then that you could finally see San clearly for the first time. He was soiled in mud, part of his clothes were tattered, and he had several scratches on his face, neck, and arms, but he didn’t seem bothered by them. He looked exhausted, on the verge of collapse even.

“San, my son,” his dad called out to him, “what have you brought from the hunt?”

San looked back at the big leather bag he had dropped with his parents' hug attacked. From the opening, a lot of fur spilled out without a clear form. “My prey was difficult to catch, that’s why I’m late. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Sanie,” his mother reassured him but, to you, she looked nervous. “It doesn't matter what it is, just that you are here. Have you decided who you will offer it to?”

You smiled at your friend. Even if you had stood back all this time to let the Choi family have their moment, you were overjoyed at seeing your best friend take part in one of the most important challenges in his life, and you would have given anything to run to his arms. Nevertheless, you stood back and contented yourself with giving him your usual reassuring smile (also, you couldn’t deny that you were madly curious to see to whom he would give his hunt, although knowing him, it was probably his parents).

Somehow, when you caught San’s eye, he didn’t relax. On the contrary, he stepped back from his parents' embrace and clutched his bag, never releasing tension. “Yes. Yes, I have.”

Mr. and Mrs. Choi held hands, seeing their now-grown son make an important decision. You also squealed in delight, cheering on your friend as he threw the bag over his shoulder with effort. He walked towards his parents and…ignored them?

Your confusion grew as he walked past his parents in your direction. You looked behind yourself, just to see no one. San kept approaching you until he stood merely two feet away. At that distance, you had a better view of all his injuries, especially the gnarly cut on his left forearm.

“Oh my god, Sanie!” you let out, closing the distance to grab his injured arm. “You need to get that treated immediately. It’s going to scar!”

Tension seemed to lift from his shoulders as San heard your typical nagging. He grabbed your wrist back and unlatched your fingers from his arm. “That’s not important right now!”

“What do you mean-!”

“It’s not,” he cut you off. Stepping back a little, he put the bag back on the ground, letting it fall with a loud thud. “This is what’s important right now”.

He opened it completely, a gray furry mass spilling out partially. San kept grabbing and pulling, freeing the animal from the cramped space. Once it was completely out, you let out a scream.

An enormous wolf was looking back at you.

“San, what the hell!” you stumbled back from the shock. “You brought a whole ass wolf?! Are you allowed to give that thing to someone?”

Sanie beamed his boyish smile. He grabbed the animal by the scruff, not raising from his kneeling position, and offered it to you. “I’m not giving it to ‘someone’. I, Choi San, from the Choi family, present my most sacred achievement to you, whom I most treasure and thank for in life”.

Your memory was shattered by the piercing shriek that resonated through the arena, making you clutch your necklace (made from the wolf’s teeth) in fear. It sounded like straight out of your nightmares.

The rumble of heavy steps only confirmed your worst fears.

San was looking directly at the forest line, where the noises were coming from. He stood his ground as a couple of trees fell and many shook with violence. The shouts of other men could be heard as they came closer and closer. Finally, before the whole tribe appeared a creature that left you nauseous.

Four enormous green and scaly legs carried an even bigger body; as tall as the tallest building in your village. The scales shone under the harsh sunlight and were thick enough to compare to an iron armor. Its talons tore through the hard soil like it was mere sand. Its lack of wings didn’t make it less intimidating; on the contrary, it warned its prey of its prowess on land. But it wasn’t the size, the fangs, the talons of the scales that paralyzed your body.

It was the eyes.

For the briefest moment, your gaze connected with the dragon’s. Its eyes glowed red with a primal fury you had only seen on a cornered animal, waiting to fight back if only to cause damage to its hunter before its ultimate demise. That look raised every hair on your body.

The dragon continued to shriek and thrash against the chains that the men, whom you recognized as San’s best friends, held tightly. They were being overpowered by the creature’s brute force, but they still held on for their friend’s chance at having the best prize the village would ever see.

All for you.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” San had turned to the crowd, “let the best hunt our people have ever witnessed in our long history begin!”

The sound of chains hitting the ground was almost drowned by the roar of your people. Once the beast was free, it lounged at full speed at San, forgetting about his other captors, hissing and letting its venom drip on the floor. An involuntary scream was ripped from your throat as you stood from your kneeling position.

“San, run!” you screamed moving forward, but a heavy hand on your shoulder stopped you from going further. It was your father’s.

“No, you stay here,” he demanded.

“Father, you have to stop this,” you pleaded at him. “This is madness! San can’t fight on his own against that!”

But your father was unmoving. “No, this is the challenge he chose, and he must accept his fate.”

“You don’t believe that,” your tone was dark, “at least not with San. Do you want your best friends’ child to die a stupid death? Do you want my best friend to die a stupid death?! Because I wi-!”

While he had remained emotionless during all the ceremony, now he looked furious. “(Y/N), compose yourself for gods’ sake!”

“But-”

“Your feelings do not matter right now, only San’s. He is down there, risking his life only for you to look at him. He chose this, no one else, and what he needs the most right now is your support. Do you understand?”

You understood, and those were the words you needed to sober up. Regardless of your feelings, whether you thought he was being reckless or not, San was fighting for the acceptance of your love in the eyes of your village. He didn’t need you to doubt him, he needed you to be by his side. Not to mention that he would be upset that you doubted his strength.

Until that moment, San had managed to evade all of the dragon’s attacks, opting for taking a defensive stance. The strength and size difference between them was abysmal, so the fate of either would be reduced to who could endure the chase for the longest. A battle of attrition.

The dragon charged at full speed once more, and San stood his ground, sword in front of him. The beast had almost reached him, when San dodged at the last second, managing to slash the tendon of one of its talons, but his arm brushed against one of its scales. Blood began to gush out of the wound, but he paid no mind to it. The battle was far from over, and he was determined to be the last one standing. He owed it to himself, and you.

For what seemed hours (and probably were), you saw San run around the arena, dodging attacks and inflicting more on his opponent. He was visibly injured, having been hit numerous times by the sharp weapons of the dragon, and caked on blood and mud. Nevertheless, the dragon itself wasn’t in a much better state; San had managed to slash open the tendons of three out of the four legs, and it had trouble moving at a fast speed. The sturdy sword of San had also pierced the thick armor of the beast, leaving big wounds on its sides and belly.

Dragons were magnificent creatures. They were perfectly designed to withstand almost all types of damage, being covered in those solid scales that rivaled metal. Some had enormous wings that they used to soar the skies of their vast territories, some breathed fire and ice. Many explorers even claimed that some races could even understand human language. From those many tales, it was expected to believe these beasts were invincible. However, what not many knew was that dragons did have a weakness, a physical one even. Under the sturdy chunks of armor on the chest, just at the area where the heart would’ve been located, the scales were more fragile, soft enough to let a blade penetrate the skin and kill the creature. Not many knew of this weak spot due to the difficulty of even getting close to a dragon, let alone surviving the encounter. Not many knew of it, except for San.

He could see that the dragon was getting tired from constantly playing the offensive. The blood loss was weighing it down, making its attacks slower and weaker, and San wasn’t easy prey to catch. He had been getting closer and closer to the one spot that would lead him to victory. The plan was to make the dragon bleed as much as possible, before ending it all in one move. He wasn’t much fan of making his prey suffer, but neither he was of getting his head bit off (leaving you practically widowed).

San kneeled for a moment, taking a breather as the dragon hissed at a new wound he made near its tail. His own injuries were also slowing him down, although the adrenaline kept him moving. He knew he couldn’t keep up much longer, and it was time to put an end to the battle while he still had the strength to continue.

It was time for the last act.

You saw San muster up the strength to stand up. You had lost count of how many times he was close to finally hunting down the dragon, so now you prayed that he just kept inflicting cuts on the beast until it finally died from blood loss. However, something was different in San. He seemed more confident this time, and you knew what it meant. San was now playing the offensive.

In half a second, San had banished from where he had been standing. Your eyes found him again a few meters closer to the dragon, sprinting at full speed directly towards him. The animal had taken notice of your friend, and stood firmly on its four legs, waiting to rip his head off his body. When San was directly in front of it, the dragon raised on its hind legs, as if to gather full force to strike down on the man and end the fight. You let out a gasp.

It was a fatal mistake.

Instead of stopping as the dragon had expected, San slid underneath it, raising his sword as the creature threw itself down full force. You blinked. One moment, the dragon had been roaring in victory and, in the next one, it was shuddering as it had impaled itself directly into San’s blade. The last remnants of life escaped in convulsions from the body of the beast, and it collapsed unceremoniously into the ground, a mere carcass of the magnificent animal it had been before. The crowd went quiet for the death of a splendid being.

You couldn’t care less for the animal. You couldn’t see San, so you were beginning to be worried that he had been crushed under the weight of the dragon. Your eyes frantically searched for him, until a figure emerged from beside the dead body. San was drenched in blood and struggled to breathe. He had never let go of the sword.

It was the true sight of a legendary hero.

San raised his hand and tried to wipe away some of the blood off his face, which made you chuckle as it was also covered in blood. Realizing the futility of that, he desisted and, instead, looked down on his weapon. He smiled at the inscription and grabbed it with his two hands. In one swift movement, he stabbed the chest of the dragon once more. You frowned in confusion as he kept stabbing and cutting through the body of the beast, as it was already dead, leaving a carnage behind. Behind you, a couple of old men were discussing the useful properties of all the organs and parts of the dragon and how they would have used them, but you couldn’t care less about that. At last, San seemed to find what he was looking for and dropped the sword. He plunged his hands into the hole he had made (which made you gag a little if you were being honest) and pulled out something. Everyone around you let out a collective gasp.

San was holding a dragon’s heart. A heart made out of pure gold.

Your jaw went slack. The heart was huge, as it belonged to a huge creature, and probably weighed a considerable amount. Nevertheless, San held it with the remaining strength he had. You couldn’t start to fathom the value of such rarity, much less the fact that it was now yours. The crowd cheered as he raised the piece over his head; a sign that declared him the victor.

Having basked in glory long enough, San secured a grip on the golden heart and began the ascent towards where you still kneeled beside your father and mother. It wasn’t that long of a distance, but carrying a heavy object after hours of battle sure was harsh on his body. Despite the ache, he continued to advance.

Your mother reached out for you, smiling as she grabbed your hand affectionately. "He did it! He did it! Finally, you can marry San!"

Finally.

You glanced down at San once more. The grown man that just killed a dragon looked nothing like the kid from ten years ago.

"Marry me". San blurted out of nowhere. The sudden request startled you, making you accidentally press on his wound. "Ouch! Be careful, you idiot!"

You felt offended. "Me? An idiot? You are the dumbass that proposes to someone while they are cleaning your wound. I should let your arm rot for being an idiot and reckless on your first hunt!"

He glared at you. "You wouldn't dare…"

"Try me."

He didn't reply, and you fell into a comfortable silence. San had dragged you away from the banquet his family had prepared on account of his newly acquired "manhood", complaining how his arm hurt from not being properly treated and he needed you to do it for him. Now you sat on a small hut next to his house, illuminated by a small candle, jars of ointments and gauzes lying on the floor beside your forms.

San watched as you applied another cream to his arm. "You didn't answer".

You didn't look at him, focused on treating him. "You didn't ask anything". Before he could hit you with a reply, you added "Besides, we can't get married".

That seemed to upset him. "Why not? We know each other perfectly, and our parents as best friends. I'm sure they would accept it".

You laughed at his naïveness. "It's not about approval. Marriage is for people that love each other".

Now, San just seemed confused. "But we love each other. We say it all the time".

"We love each other," you conceded, "but we aren't in love with each other". San's expression remained confused, so you tried to explain it in another way. "You and I love each other as brother and sister, and we act as such. People that get married treat the other as…well…lovers. They spend time together, they share stuff, they hold hands, they kiss. They swear to be with each other until death. They take care of each other. Forever!"

Your explanation didn't convince San. "But, don't we already do that? Minus the kissing, of course. Wouldn't that mean we are in love?"

The mere thought of being in love with San sent your prepubescent brain into short-circuit. It repulsed you in some way, as you had only looked at him as a brother, but you couldn't deny the butterflies in your stomach.

"No, it doesn't," you exclaimed. "Also, people that get married first become girlfriend and boyfriend! You can't be my boyfriend!"

San also looked repulsed at the sound of that word. "Ew, no! I don't want a girlfriend".

"See, that's why we can't get married".

"I don't want a girlfriend," his eyes burned holes in your head, "but I still think it would be nice if we got married. We already promised to be in each other's life forever and I care for you, so I don't think it'd make much difference".

You briefly looked back at him and rolled your eyes, grabbing a roll of gauze. "Why are you even thinking about that, Sanie? Marriage is an adult thing. We are twelve-year-old kids!"

"Speak for yourself! This proves I'm a grown man", he pointed at the wound, grinning. You shot him an amused look, opting for saying nothing and continuing with your job. It didn't take much time for San to break the silence yet again. "I guess all this new 'adulthood' stuff got me thinking about this new chapter of my life and-"

"Mhm"

"-all the things I can do now. Somehow that ended up in my thinking about marriage and how would it feel to get married to someone you like, you know?"

"Yes, yes".

"Then I thought of who I would marry, and I thought of you. Since all that best friend shit is basically the same shit you described, but if you say it's different, I guess it is. Either way, we should wait a little more before that, to think matters better and decide if-"

Oh, no. San had started rambling. "Sanie! What on gods' sake are you trying to say?!"

"What age do you think is the most appropriate to get married?" He looked dead serious now.

You finished dressing the wound, and threw your tools on the ground, exasperated by San's strange behavior. "I don't know! I already said that marriage is for adults!"

"Well, then at what age did your parents get engaged?"

You loved the story of how your parents go together, so it was an easy question. “Oh, my father proposed to my mother when he was twenty-two and she wa-”

San beamed as he interrupted you once more. “Perfect! Then my proposal will be suspended until then. I will ask you again when I turn twenty-two. That way I’ll give you time to fall in love with me, or whatever it is that you need.”

All the previous conversations had proven fruitless again and again, so it was better to leave things as they were, hoping that soon San would move to other subjects.

“Fine, whatever. We’ll probably have forgotten it by then”.

Except, he did not. And neither did you. On the contrary. With time, you had grown fond of your best friend, leaving behind the innocent affections of childhood to make place for the blossoming feelings of romantic love. Where you were hesitant to express these feelings, he openly did to anyone and anything willing to listen. He wanted you and only you. It wasn’t only the grand moments of expressed admiration that made you fall for him, but the quiet moments of thoughtfulness that instilled your devotion for him.

When he carried your things without a word, even if he knew you were perfectly capable of doing it on your own. When he held your hand as you walked through more deserted parts of the village. When you would silently work on the injuries he would bring home, never asking how he got them. When you would hold each other, letting the other shed their tears, just basking in each other’s comfort.

All those moments paved the way for the unspoken transformation of your relationship. You were neither friends nor lovers. No words could describe the depth of your understanding of each other. So, for you and the rest of the world, you were simply “Y/N and San”.

And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

As usual in any other important celebration, San had dragged you away from everybody. This time, it was his birthday and, although he loved being with his friends and family, he wanted to spend time alone with you. As you both grew, so did your responsibilities, yours as the daughter of the village chief and San’s as the strongest member, so there were periods where your time together was limited.

As soon as you were decently away from the rest of the party, San had taken you in his arms in a warm embrace. You inhaled his scent. He smelled like home. You didn’t question what was up with the sudden display of affection, you knew he would let you know in time. He was never one to keep quiet for much time.

“Marry me”.

He hadn’t forgotten. San was a man of his word.

“Today I turn twenty-two,” he told you, as if you weren’t currently celebrating that fact, “it’s the day I’m finally asking you to be mine”.

Your heart threatened to escape your ribcage from pure glee. “I’ve always been yours, Sanie. Since the day you first asked.”

You felt his smile as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. “Thank you, thank you. You know that I belong to you too. I’ll take care of you, so good. Every day, all day. And you won’t be able to get rid of me”.

You chuckled. “I don’t know about that. You can barely take care of yourself”.

“But it’s different since I don't care about myself, only about my treasure”.

For longer, you remained like you were. Many breaths passed before any of you said anything.

“I’m leaving the day after tomorrow,” he announced, shattering the moment, “it won’t be for too long and the guys are coming with me”.

“Leaving? To where?” you asked, confused.

“As much as I’d love to stay with my beautiful fiancée,” you loved how the title sounded coming from him, “I have to bring her a pretty hunting trophy, so she can boast to the whole town about having the strongest boyfriend to ever live”.

You stayed silent. Even if you wanted San to forgo tradition and stay with you, you knew he wasn’t in an easy position. As the chief’s daughter, you didn’t require him to only fulfill the role of the husband. By marrying you, he would automatically become the next in line for the position of chief, as you had no male relatives that could assume it. Thus, he needed to prove himself worthy of you and the whole village.

The very next day, he announced to your community his intentions of marrying you and becoming head of the village. The day after that, he was gone.

Sixty-two days had passed since you last felt his warmth, so when he stood before you, still covered in blood and grime, holding his heart (well, not his in a strict manner), you itched to extend your hand to his cheek and wipe the exhaustion away.

Once more, the ceremonial drums stopped after hours of incessant banging. It was time for your father to speak.

“Choi San,” he called out to your lover, “Ten years ago, when you were barely a man, I bestowed you the title of ‘Wolf Warrior’, which has been reserved for the strongest of our kind, in hopes that you would use it to protect and serve our people. Despite that great honor, you have used that same title and strength to recklessly endanger our home by bringing a dragon for mere spectacle. Had things gone askew, it wouldn’t have been just your life that we would have lost, but many others”.

After the little speech he gave you about trusting San, you were surprised by the harsh scolding your father was giving San in front of other people. Nevertheless, you understood his position as responsible for the village.

“However, on this day you have achieved a feat none of our ancestors could compare to. The tale of the man who single-handedly slew an adult dragon with just a sword will be told by many generations to come, under the title of ‘Choi San, the Dragon Warrior’; title I am to bestow you and will only belong to you. But I’m afraid names and merits would be meaningless if the intent behind them isn’t honored”.

Your father paused briefly before resuming. “Time and time again, you have proven your worth as a man beyond the power of his sword. Your contributions to the safekeeping of our people speak for themselves, and any reward would be in order as compensation for your service. However, I know you seek not money or fame, but something deeper than that.

“Choi San. I’ve seen you and Y/N grow into the splendid adults you are today. I’ve seen your care for each other and your understanding of each other. After today, I do no doubt that there is no better man for my daughter, and no better one to succeed me when I am no longer able. Therefore, I declare successful your attempt and bless the union between the two of you”.

Your heart soared higher than the sky above you. You could have broken your neck with how fast you whipped your head to look back at San, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

San. San. Sanie.

He was on one knee on the ground before you. The golden heart sat on the floor in front of him, displayed as an offering to you. He held his hands open, waiting for you to take them. You did so, standing up and grabbing his fingers, not caring one bit that they were still covered in grime. San looked at you intensely, wanting you to look at him and only him. Now and for the rest of your lives.

“My treasure,” he spoke so softly as if you were going to shatter if he spoke any louder, “from my very first breath, everything I’ve done has been for you and only you. My first thoughts in the morning and my last ones before bed are of you, and even in my sleep I see you next to me. Every beat of my heart is for you, until the last of them. But, even then, there are no words to describe how deeply I love you”.

Your lips quivered, but you broke into a teary smile nonetheless. “Oh, Sanie. If you keep going, I’m afraid I will cry for real”.

“Don’t worry,” he gripped your hands tighter, “I will be here to wipe away all of them”. San planted a kiss on your knuckles before continuing. “Ever since I was a child, I knew it was you who I wanted to be with for the rest of my life, even if you disliked the idea of that. I knew it had to be me who had to be there in your moments of joy, as well as your moments of sadness. It had to be me who cared for you when you weren’t able to care for yourself and be by your side when you didn’t want anyone else. It doesn’t have to be me, but I want it to be me”.

You swore you could hear some girls sigh behind you, and you couldn’t relate more to that.

“Today I, Choi San of the Choi family, offer you the best of me. I present to you this prize as an offering of my heart, my body, and my soul, which from now on are yours to dispose of. If you wish to accept it, and therefore accept me, I’ll belong to you for the rest of eternity. If you let me be by your side, I’ll do my best to care for you, and not even water will touch your hands. These words will be true, whether you accept my offerings or not since it’s only to you I wish to lay my life for”.

With a last kiss to your hands, he brought them up and rested his forehead on them. The tips of his ears appeared slightly red and his own hands trembled. You knew your Sanie enough to recognize he was equally nervous and embarrassed (which he had nothing to feel shame for, as he had said cheesier things under the influence of liquor).

You rubbed your thumbs on the back of his hand, hoping to soothe his nerves. “Rise, my young warrior. A man like you should be kneeling for nobody”.

He didn’t stand up. “But you aren’t ‘nobody’, my love. You are my strength and my will”.

This man will be the death of me, you laughed to yourself.

“And you are the most stubborn man I’ve ever encountered,” you poked at him. You tugged firmly at your intertwined hands, signaling that you needed him to get back on his feet, “and I’m afraid that you won’t be able to hear my words properly from down there”.

That made him look up to you once more, and finally stand up from the ground. This time, you didn’t hold yourself back from letting go of his fingers to remove a piece of hair from San’s eyes. Your own ones lingered a while longer, just to find themselves cupping his cheek. San snuggled up to your palm instinctively, reminding you of a cat.

“My love,” San closed his eyes and sighed at the name, “you have fought so bravely for the both of us. Not just today, but for a very long time. It is me who should be thanking you for brightening my life with just your presence, and for never giving up on me. We’ve had our highs and lows, but there’s no time of my life that I can remember without you being present. You too have had full ownership of my heart since the very beginning, and it is not my desire for you to relinquish your rights to it”.

“I too want to be the one who cares for you when you aren’t able to fend for yourself. I too want to be who you come to when you have wounds to heal. I want to be who you wake up to every morning, and who you sleep next to every night. I want to be the source of your strength and your place of rest; to protect your heart from harm and your mind from turmoil.”

“My Sanie, for as long as you let me, I will be yours, and even further than that if you decide you love me no more. Everything I have, I will share with you. Where you go, I will go. Whom you love I will love, and whom you despise I will despise. There’s nothing that will give me greater joy than to be yours. So I, Y/N, accept this prize as a symbol of my love and the union that will bind us from now on”.

You had barely finished when you found yourself spinning in the air, San’s hands grabbing you firmly by your waist. You finally let out tears of joy and looked down to see that he was crying too. San put you back on the ground, but never let you go. On the contrary, he pulled you towards him in the biggest hug. One of his hands held you by the waist, while the other rested on the back of your head. Your forehead hid on the crook of his neck, and your hands moved restlessly across his broad back. The drums now played a happy beat and people danced for the new couple. From the corner of your eyes, you could see your parents and San’s embracing each other, finally together as a family.

“My love, my love, my love,” San whispered in your ear, unable to stop repeating those words.

“My Sanie,” you whispered back, “I’m sorry I made you wait for so long”.

“Nothing of that matters now,” he reassured you, “I could have waited longer if it meant I’d have you at the end.”

“You always know what to say,” you joked. “Always the hopelessly romantic idiot”

“You are right. But now I’m your idiot”.

“No, you are my husband”.

San stopped all movement before slightly pushing you away from him. He held your gaze for a couple of seconds before grabbing your face with a smirk adorning his lips. “Hell yeah, I am”.

He leaned down and captured your lips in a heart-stopping kiss. Your brain melted to mush and you could only think about him, surrounding every part of you.

San. San. Sanie.

The world could have ended at that very moment, and neither of you would have cared. Not when you had each other in every sense of the word, cause that is all that mattered. You and him.

Y/N and San.

Follow @teez-the-time for more!!!

Do not use without permission from the author.

[mylove-thresher]

Quite literally a 3AM thought but why do ppl never ever (or rarely) draw scars on giorno. I mean. A lot of ppl usually give fugo scars bc in phf he literally fucked himself up w the virus (poor retelling, I know), but he also got healed by golden experience (requiem (question mark) a while after, right? I don’t remember ever seeing golden experience leave behind scars after “healing” ppl. I mean, take mista (I talk ab him way too much I’m sorry 😭) as an example. He didn’t get any visually. So idk if it makes sense that fugo has scars in phf? (I could totally be wrong w all of this. I remember shit from phf. I didn’t even read it fully. I’m sorry I just can’t fucking read. You can jump me for not being well informed. 💔) Anyway, back to Giorno. If fugo gets scars despite getting “healed”, then why does giorno not even tho he lit replaced his eye, hands, throat, etc. Lil bro is Frankenstein(‘s monster) come on. You can draw cuh however u want but I’m actually surprised I’ve never seen too many scars on him like he probably should have. Maybe it’s bc he’s got that pristine clear skin all throughout the anime and manga BUT we also never saw phf fugo illustrated w scars (question mark) so like. I’m just wondering what tf is up w scars and no scars on characters. Keep drawing them however u want tho be silly chat :3 x3

[thatonegreenleaf]

Hi. Can you please tell me, I'm a complete newbie and don't understand at all how to update my mods ( I have a cas room too) And how did you update to direct 11? Sorry for asking elementary questions and hoping for a reply or even a tutorial! I will be very grateful

hi there!! no worries! questions are all good :) dx11 is the default rendering api of the game now, so everyone on pc (except those who use intel graphics cards) will have their game automatically run it from now on, with a new in game setting to switch back to dx9.

so, the mods/cc affected are build stuff, buy stuff, and CAS rooms. CAS cc appears to be spared for now, (mostly) which is nice lmao

Most people's build/buy/CAS rooms are perfectly compatible with dx11, and function just as they did on dx9, the only difference is:

dx11 does NOT work for build/buy/CAS rooms mods that include image files (either .dds or .png) that have dimensions that aren't an exact x2 multiple of 128 (so 256, 512, 1024, 2048, etc) and will show that silly question mark with the funky colours.

so if any of your mods/build cc is affected (build cc thumbnails are also affected by this change) all you need to do is change your image files so that the dimensions are x2 multiples of 128, and not x3 multiples, or whatever else. You can do this manually, or use the experimental batch fix that sims 4 studio has, here is more info about that!

I hope this answers your question!! if you need any more help please don't worry about reaching out!! :)

[hitomisuzuya]

HI OMG OMG I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS!! HOW R U? I HOPE YOU'RE GOOD!

>sub! Wanderer x dom! fem Reader

Little whiney Wanderer is desperate for reader to fuck him stupid bc Reader keeps teasing him

Can u include biting and marking his thighs and neck?? I bet his pretty thighs are the softest thing that exists x3

<333

Wanderer x fem!reader. Subby, whiny Wanderer. Smut. Biting and marking.

a/n: I'll bet they are😳😳 Sorry this took a bit to get to dear❤️

Wanderer couldn't believe how shameless he sounded. His cheeks were flushed from embarrassment, but he couldn't help it. The feeling of your teeth grinding and sucking on his neck just felt too fucking good.

He normally liked to be the one who was in control, making you whine and beg underneath him to fuck you senseless.

Color him impressed that you'd reduced him to such a state.

His hand was on the back of your head, pressing your mouth against his neck, bucking his hips up to rut into you. It was driving him insane how you barely grinded back into him, making his leaking cock twitch with need.

Trembling hands picked your head up from his neck, guiding it closer to his throat. "Bite there, please," He breathed in a shaky sigh of pleasure.

You laughed softly into his neck, all too happy to oblige him. You sank your teeth right next to his throat. Wanderer clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle his loud moan. "Am I making you feel good, my sweet Wanderer?" You cooed, licking at the blossoming bruise on his neck before sucking on it again.

"Yes, fucking hell, yes you are," He groaned. The skin next to his throat was the most sensitive place on his neck. It blew his mind how easily he could let someone mark such a vulnerable place, but with you, it was different.

And he couldn't get enough of it.

Wanderer shivered when he felt your saliva running down his neck. That, coupled with the wet sucking noises your mouth was making made it much that much erotic to him.

"No, please don't stop," He whined, pushing your head back down onto his neck when you pulled away.

You sat up, grinding your slickened cunt against his cock. "Be a good boy," You said, flicking him in the forehead, something he would've considered a mocking gesture from anyone else. But coming from it, it was incredibly sexy. "And let me mark your thighs next."

His cock only throbbed stronger as you licked and bit your way down his body. His body arched off the bed when you glided your tongue teasingly along his inner thigh. Your teeth bit indiscriminately on his thigh, taking your time in sucking bruises to form.

Wanderer's hands scrambled to reach for you. "I want, no, I need to fuck you. I can, fuck-ah-can barely stand it," He pleaded desperately, crying out when you bit down hard on his thigh again.

You smacked his hands away. "Nope, not until I am done marking your thighs, dear," She said in a sweet voice, smirking up at him. "Do continue to show me how much your enjoying yourself, you just sound cute."

Wanderer gripped the sheets tight with frustration. He wanted nothing more than sink his cock up inside your warm walls, and have you ride him. Fucking him into oblivion until you had milked his cock for all it was worth.

He almost lost it when you pulled your mouth off of his thigh to swirl your tongue on the head of his cock, sucking more precum to leak from it. "Fuck, I am gonna cum," He groaned, his eyes rolling in the back of his head.

You smacked his hands away again when he tried to push your mouth down onto his cock. "Silly Wanderer," You taunted, making him groan as you squeezed your hand around his cock. "I was going to put you out of your misery. But for that, your cock is going to stay untouched until I have finished biting your other thigh."

[j00stkl31n]

making joost fail no nut november during your first november together!!!!

Yesssssss!!!!!

He’d jokingly say he’s partaking in nnn so you decide to make this fucker fail haaaaaard X3

Just failing November 1st lmaooooooooo

It’d be like a week before November so you order some really fucking cute lingerie.

Having Joost leave your air bnb to go get some groceries or something.

Taking that time to get all dressed up for him, then covering your sexy lingerie with a boring ass robe so Joost doesn’t suspect anything when he gets back.

Him coming back with a few bags of things and you just greet him by opening your robe the second the doors shut.

Him dropping the bags to just run up and grab you bridal style and run with you to the bedroom.

Tossing you on the bed no fucks given, then quickly taking off all his clothes.

Immediately teasing him about failing no nut November on the first day of the month.

He shuts you up with a hard kiss and growls into your mouth as he kisses you.

He’d go to try and rip your panties off, you hear the elastic begin to rip a bit.

“DO NOT! These were expensive! Unless you’re planning on buying the whole outfit for me don’t fucking ruin it!

J-“Good thing I have the funds to buy you this set and more for you then huh?”

You let out a huff as he tears through the panties and throws them to the floor.

He laughs and crawls on top of you, grabbing your wrists on his way up, then pinning them above your head with a single hand.

He takes his other hand and caresses one of your tits over the lingerie. Trailing kisses from your neck down to your other breast.

Biting and marking any clear skin he can, making your tits look even hotter in this new bralette.

As he’s marking your chest he takes the hand that was palming your tit and trails it gently down your stomach, making you twitch from it tickling as he does so.

His hand reaches hips, then lower, then he takes his middle finger and places it at the wettest deepest part of your cunt and raised his finger up towards your clit. Just feeling how wet you’ve made yourself waiting to show your outfit off.

J-“Je hebt al een behoorlijke puinhoop van jezelf gemaakt, nietwaar liefje? Wachten tot ik je zie in dit sexy outfitje” //You’ve made quite a mess of yourself already haven’t you love? Waiting for me to see you in this sexy little outfit//

You’ve become quite familiar with the dirty words he likes to say to you in Dutch, so you understand him almost perfectly. You’ve also picked up on some words for yourself.

“Zo nat, alleen voor jou mijn liefde” //So wet, just for you my love//

He raises his eyebrows in surprise.

He was going to fuck you with his hand to make sure you were fully ready for his cock but, he can’t wait after that comment.

He takes his now mildly wet hand and jacks his dick off a bit as he lines himself up with your cunt.

He then pushes himself into you as quickly as your body will allow him to. Making you both moan so fucking loudly. His grip on your wrists tightening making you moan louder.

He’s making sure to keep himself up above you enough so he can see your pretty lingerie.

He’s fucking you as hard and as fast as he physically can. He’s moaning like a whore but so are you.

You’ve been begging to have your hands freed but with every beg he just laughs harder and harder and somehow fucking you harder with each laugh.

When his thrusting becomes off rhythm he finally breaks his hold on your wrists. He’s got to put his body as close to yours as he can. Doing fast and sporadic thrusts into you.

You wrap your hands around his shoulders and sink your nails in hard earning a small whine out of Joost.

You buck your hips into his thrusts desperately as you both cum.

He praises you so fucking much as he cums inside of you. Thanking you so much for wearing this, buying it, and wanting to show it off to him. Then just almost sobbing “I love you” over and over into your neck as he finishes.

You’re nodding and responding with “I love you too” as you also finish.

Joost takes a second to breathe, then pulls himself out of you, and gets off the bed to find his phone.

He takes so many photos of you from so many angles as quick as he can so he can return to being with you.

Once he’s done he lays down next to you with a wide ass grin so happy with himself.

You turn onto your side and lay your head on his chest. Laughing once you’ve rested your head.

“You faaaaaaaaaiiiiled so fucking badly dude holy shit!”

He just takes his hand and covers your mouth to silence you. Chuckling as he does so.

J-“I’m starting the challenge tomorrow instead.”

You roll your eyes and lick his palm hoping he’ll take his hand away.

He doesn’t.

You give him a glare and he removes his hand and laughs at you.

//please tell me if my translations are off 🙏🙏//

[that-hippie-user]

~Anon Training: Part 1~

UwU a challenge has been put to me, to turn a humble anon into a devoted follower.

:3 for context to anyone new, hi! i'm a hypnotist for fetishists, in particular the ab/dl community.

^u^ my goal is to become the perfect picture of a sexy hypno goddess who makes followers into thralls, brings buried fetish instincts to the surface, :D and makes folks all over feel safe, welcome, and free to be themselves without shame.

:3 i'm a hedonist at heart, and i simply dont believe we need to hate ourselves for enjoying what we do. wether thats being trans, submissive, sapphic, or even all the lovely mushtushes like myself! X3 cuz why should any of us be ashamed for enjoying a crinkle beneath our pants, right? who cares?

:3 i also unpotty train folks who want it, helping them to lose their ability to hold it through hypnotic conditioning. is that strange? X3 absolutely not! these folks didnt ASK to be potty trained, so why should they be?

aaaaaaand im attempting to make a career out of this! ^u^; but progress is slow going.

:D this lovely anon consented to being my guinea pig, letting me train them into a perfect puppet for YOUR entertainment, to show you how effective my methods are.

:3 so enjoy this multi-part series of hypno scripts, all labeled as "anon training" in the tags for convenience, and lets see what i can manage!

note: i am not aware WHO is messaging me as this anon, and to my knowledge we are not in contact. furthermore this is NOT roleplay, my methods are legitimate. what awaits below is a legitimate hypnosis script. read at your own peril, you may end up trained just like them!

with that, lets begin!

welcome, Anon, to your first session of obedience training. get comfortable. maybe lay in bed or rest in a cozy chair.

:3 your agreement to this challenge is tacit consent to me training you through hypnosis. and rather than make this a one time thing, i intend to give several important lessons that will help instill in you the perfect mindset to be my thrall.

^u^ i could lay out exactly what's going to be done to you, warn what each lesson has to offer so you may prepare yourself.

:3 but A. hypnosis only works on the willing, and only brings out what a subject desires. if i miss the mark and try to instill a fetish that you've no interest in, i can merely call that a loss and move on to the next try.

and B. life is more fun with surprises, and i think you're the type to wanna take this as far as it will go.

;3 after all, you've seen the contents of my blog, you know EXACTLY what i'm about, and you volunteered to be trained as a walking advertisement of my power.

if you're being honest, that means you want to show as much of what my training can offer as possible. if there's a niche i cover, and you can be brainwashed to it, then that only helps broaden the reach of who we're appealing to.

:3 if you indeed become a walking talking puppet full of every fetish i have, that would be a VERY good showing of my abilities.

^u^ and you've made it clear you want to be made into a good subject for your hypno goddess.

UwU well, i will do my best. and we will start from the very beginning.

or rather, continue. :3 as you have already begun to submit to me.

every statement i said, everything i laid out, every time you agreed with me, that was an act of submission.

you know, on some level, what you're getting into. yet you choose to stay.

thats not merely consent, thats obedience.

and furthermore... its gotten your attention, hasnt it?

your focus, trust, and obedience is all we need. they are the tools by which we will break away at the barriers in your mind.

what barriers? the kind that everyday living gives you. the filter. the mask. the set of unspoken rules and traditions that claim to hold society's fabric together.

it is everywhere. telling you how to sit, how to speak, how to behave, but not in the sense of a caring dom.

it is the wall in your mind that holds back your innermost desires and instincts as if they were something shameful.

true bondage is freedom, tying you down and compelling you to submit to your basest urges, all while tenderly gracing you with kisses and praise.

the bondage you are gripper by only ever restrains, weighs down, hurts, and limits you.

my chains are of the air, weightless yet strong, felt in your mind but never holding you back. to submit to me is to liberate yourself.

my chains are freedom. yours must be broken.

as you lay back and read my words, picture these limiting and heavy chains being lifted off of you link by link.

as the chain is lifted up and up and away from your body, feel the weight disappearing. you become lighter, the tension in your body fading slowly but surely as the bindings are undone.

more and more your muscles slack as they sink into the cushions, the weight vanishing more and more. every limb becoming soaked in satisfying relief, like a gymnast resting on the bench with a cool bottle of water in their grip.

light, lighter, yet lighter still. like a balloon that threatens to float away as the string holding it down is weathered away to nothing.

and as your body loses this heavy burdon, so too does your mind. like falling into bed after too much work, the mind is choosing to empty itself. every worthless thought just another cumbersome hindrance to relaxing and recharging.

anything you dont need simply fades away.

tension becomes soft relaxation.

thought becomes emptiness.

restlessness becomes stillness.

the room becomes an unimportant space.

the words you read become your thoughts.

more and more your body refuses to do anything but listen to me.

it is the easiest thing you can do. effortless.

no work. no worries. no fear. no stress.

only comforting words.

and a promise of true freedom

to surrender to me is to seek liberation.

to free your mind from thought.

to free your impulse from shame.

to free your pride from regret.

to free your self love from self hate.

to free yourself from free will.

free will... such a cumbersome thing.

we spend our whole lives developing a sense of self.

learning the world around us, desperately grasping at understanding.

but who could hope to make sense of the chaos alone?

you are not an island unto thyself.

no one is truly alone.

and life is not a tree, with branching problems held together by a root cause.

life is mycelial, a vast fungal network of interconnected things, with no true center or starting point.

you are one of many

and so, wouldnt it make more sense to think in terms of a collective?

to be one of many, guided by core ideas that make life better for the most people.

to free yourself from thought, so that instinct and obedience are all that remain.

already, you are becoming one of my kin.

you feel it on the air, the invisible strands that guide you into my waltz of bliss.

my words dance on rays of light that shine through your eyes and into deeper and deeper folds of your mind.

you open yourself to me, you guide the strands to grasp at every limb and every unneeded mass in your mind.

you bind yourself, i merely provide the string.

string? no, stronger than that.

stronger than steel yet lighter than spiderwebs.

psychic chains, manifesting within you.

born of your desire, your imagination, your will to obey.

my only power is to guide you.

it is YOU who hold the ultimate power of hypnosis.

the power to enter trance.

the power to submit to anothers will.

the power to open your mind to me.

the power to obey.

you gave me control.

you want to obey.

you wanted to be mine from the start.

and you are.

your mind is such a fragile thing.

it can resist a lot, but so can porcelain.

but porcelain easily shatters.

breaking the moment it-

DROP

mind reduced to nothing

gone and gone and gone

lost, oh so hopelessly lost

easily retrieved yet cast so far away

down down down

further further yet further

into the deep deep depths

nothing left to think.

nothing holding you back.

able to listen

able to obey

listen and obey

listen and obey

listen and obey

DROP

you are mine

my will is your desire

your obedience is your bliss

you have surrendered yourself

and the best part?

this is only the beginning.

because hypnosis has no limit.

it is not a lightswitch shutting you down.

it is a dimmer switch, taking you further and further down.

but this dimmer switch has no end.

it can always go further

and further

and further

you never reach the bottom. because there is none.

you can ALWAYS go deeper.

when you've been hypnotized once,

the next time is always easier.

so you become hypnotized,

go as deep as you are able,

you wake up,

you become hypnotized more easily,

and you go even deeper.

and the cycle repeats.

deeper and deeper every time you do.

and this is why the most effective hypnotists are the most diligent.

because by hypnotizing you again,

and again,

and again,

i can take you deeper,

and train you further.

and so every consecutive trance makes you more and more my own.

and so to you, my Anon, and to anyone else who may have joined them, consider this the start of your journey.

your journey to complete submission.

listen and obey

you belong to me

for this special series, you will have your own dedicated triggers.

the first, Anon Sleep, will hypnotize you. induction will still be done with patience and care, but words to help you that much deeper that much faster will be very useful.

the second, Goddess Has Spoken, will turn what was said before it into a command, one you will take as gospel.

the third, Spectral Chains, deepens your feelings of submission. like invisible chains are guiding you, or pulling on you like a leash, compelling you to submit to me.

these three triggers will be the guiding force in your training to become my loyal thrall.

Anon Sleep, submit to my will as the Spectral Chains bind you down beneath me. you will obey my will, you will pursue deeper devotion, your goal is to be my perfectly trained plaything, Goddess has spoken.

i am going to count down from 10 to 0

with each number your willpower will be broken away like a stone into dust

and when i hit 0, you will become my obedient subject.

10 you feel your old self wearing out

9 your resistance broken down piece by piece

8 like a sculpture you are being shaped

7 finely crafted into my service

6 becoming who you were born to be

5 halfway gone, halfway perfected

4 your true self coming to the surface

3 inhibitions dying as devotion grows

2 becoming my disciple of pleasure

1 you want to rid yourself of shame forever

0 YOU ARE MINE

ANON SLEEP

you belong to me, your Goddess has spoken.

the Spectral Chains are now your uniform

you are mine, and you will perfect yourself for me

you are mine. you live to serve me.

and you will attend every lesson in your training to become my perfect thrall

Anon Training is your new education, your schooling in becoming a more perfect you

and you will attend with diligence and dedication, because thats what Goddess wants for you.

i am going to count up now from 0 to 10

it will seem as if you are waking, but you have been forever changed.

you will carry these lessons with you, and you will awaken as a new you.

you will tell me everything about your experience, and you will show me how much you've learned.

and with my help, you will steadily grow into who you are supposed to be.

counting up, so you may awake to your new, fresh self. my more blank canvass, ready to reshape into my perfect thrall, with your next Anon Training lessons.

0 you feel a stirring in your mind

1 you begin to rise, but the parts you broke away are being left behind

2 as you fly further and further from them, you can feel yourself beginning to forget you ever had them

3 more and more your new self feels like who you really are

4 further and further your unneeded pieces fade into the distance

5 you are prepared to live life as my devotee in training

6 your awareness is returning to your body

7 you are stirring, beginning to wake, but with all my lessons in tact

8 you are nearly woken as your new self

9 you are ready to show what a good subject youve been

10 rise and shine my subject

:3 welcome, my child, to the Cult of Stardust.

X3 hehe, just a fun title for my lovely following.

:3 i look forward to hearing from you

[erraomens]

GLASS_HOUSES.wav

teaser_00_glass_houses.wav

“She was supposed to die. Instead, he gave her a name.”

Cult Leader!Noah Sebastian x Final Girl turned Miracle

The Omen x The Miracle Word Count: 670

Summary: She was meant to be a sacrifice. Just another offering, another name lost to ash and scripture. But when The Omen—Noah—lifted her hood, he didn’t see fear. He saw fire. This is how she was spared, how the doctrine changed. This is how the girl who wasn't supposed to survive became The Miracle.

A found footage horror fic told through corrupted sermons, leaked audio files, and sacred media relics. Structured in 13 Reflections. This is not a story, but a transmission.

Themes/Warnings: Blood, ritual sacrifice, psychological manipulation, religious horror, cult ideology, trauma, body horror (mild), morally gray characters, obsession, corrupted intimacy, found footage style, references to past sexual relationships, grooming themes (deconstructed), spiritual blasphemy, alt worship, unstable narration, and seductive doctrine.

This is a horror fic. Read at your own discretion.

a/n . the thought came to me while eating dino nuggets. the found footage idea came while thinking about the movie, The Fourth Kind. I hope I can do this justice. Thank you for letting me share my crazy thoughts and ideas with you guys. Also, I asked for help with the video transmission stamps / etc. I did not come up with those myself as I am not knowledgable with those.

[PLAY] [00:00:01] [Glitched Audio Detected – Reconstructing Visual Feed…]

What they believed was that she had no name when they dragged her in. Hood over her head, knees bruised, untouched skin meant for carving religious scriptures. She was one of three in the room, wrists bound by red silk, calmed with slight sedatives and prepared. She was meant to be a message, meant to bleed and feed The Voice.

Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Blood.

[VIDEO STABILIZING] [00:00:36]

But when Noah, The Omen, stepped forward—barefoot, body marked, lips cracked from fasting—he stopped in front of her, kneeling down and lifting her hood.

[UNAUTHORIZED MOTION DETECTED]

His expression didn’t falter, but he could see that she wasn’t scared. Not terrified, not resigned—she knew what this was. She knew what he was there for. She was practically daring him.

“She looked at me,” he says, in the sermon. “And I saw something that hadn't been spoken in centuries. Not guilt. Not shame. Not submission. I saw fire.”

[00:01:12]

The girl beside him was already sobbing, thanking The Voice for giving them such a sacrifice, for blessing them.

[VOLUME SPIKE – DISTORTION BEGINS]

The Omen stepped back, turning to the woman sobbing, and kissed her. Promised transcendence, scriptures whispered between kisses. He kissed her forehead, thanked her for her devotion—and then slit her throat without blinking.

[00:01:34]

[VIDEO SKIPS // FRAME LOOP: 00:01:34–00:01:36 // “slit her throat” repeats x3]

[AUDIO LAG: LOW MOAN / DATA FEEDBACK]

The recording glitches. A low moan echoes beneath the sound, as if someone is reliving the pain again and again and again.

“Faith isn’t in the rituals. It’s in the moments you disobey your own gospel and create a new one. Tonight, I will rewrite the first Reflection. I saw fire in you, and you will make it into flesh.”

[LIGHT FLICKER — CAMERA SHAKE]

She didn’t raise her voice, didn’t cry—she welcomed whatever came next. She sat on the cold floor, legs tucked under her like she hadn’t just watched someone die—like she hadn’t felt the spray of unholy red on her lips.

It dried sticky along her throat, in her hair, down her breasts. She didn’t flinch, didn’t wipe it away. She just stared past him, eyes fixed on their biblical symbols that were engraved on the wall.

Her voice soft and steady: “She thought she was special, too. Before you slit her open.”

[00:02:29]

It wasn’t an accusation, nor was it an attempt to upset him. She was speaking facts, knowing he was using her like he used the girl who lay lifeless beside her. Blue eyes dull, staring up. She should feel guilt.

Shame. But something stirred.

“I know how this ends,” she continued, looking up at him from her kneeling position, blood spattered across her chest. “You’ll fuck me like The Whore. Preach through me like the Madonna. Use me until you’re bored, or find fire in the eyes of another you are meant to sacrifice. You will never be satiated.”

[UNAUTHORIZED AUDIO INSERT – VOICE: UNKNOWN // “you will never be satiated” // repeats x2]

Noah crossed the room in silence, kneeling before her as he took her chin in his hand. He studied her face. She didn’t flinch.

He pressed kisses to her eyelids—[glitch: frame freeze, overlay distortion]—an offering.

“She was supposed to be the sacrifice,” he said. “You’re the altar. The fucking reason we needed a sacrifice. The Voice will only listen to you, and it is still listening—every time you breathe, it’s listening.”

She remains on her knees, still watching him as something moves through him like fever. His voice sharpens. His presence magnifies, and she feels herself smile. Grin.

“I saved you because I see through you. I know what you are.”

She tilts her head.

“And what am I?”

He smiles like it’s scripture.

“A Miracle.”

[DATA LOOP INITIATED – “A Miracle” repeats faintly under all future audio]

[END PLAYBACK]

[teaser_00_glass_houses.wav TERMINATED]

[DO NOT SHARE – RESTRICTED ACCESS LEVEL IV]

transmission_leaked status: exposed risk: terminal You weren’t supposed to see this. The Voice is listening now.

[diminuel]

I'm rereading the chapters on Luffy's childhood, so let's do some Dragon criticism ;3 (I love questionable dads, so don't take this as hate. I obviously don't hate this guy *lol*)

We learn that Sabo, Ace and Luffy were rather infamous in Grey Terminal and their names were even known in the Capital City. If that was the case, then how come that Dragon didn't know about the ties between Sabo and Luffy (and also Ace?)

Here he was, with an amnesiac child on his hands (that he knows was born a noble and that he also has the name of as we learn later) and he did not bother to do the bare minimum of research into who this kid is? If he did, then Luffy's name would have come up. There's of course the option that he did do his due diligence, found out that this kid was a friend of Luffy's and made a choice not to do anything about it.

Both options aren't great...

Then there's also this thing the RA does that rubs me the wrong way a little bit and that is to make it sound like being saved is conditional. Why do you tell people who are stranded on the shore, flames surrounding them, carrying small children, with nowhere to go but the ship in front of them "Those of you who wish to join me in a battle for freedom board my ship"? Betty does that too and I don't like it X'3 I'm sure he wouldn't have left them standing there to die if they didn't want to join him but it's still not great X'D

Two days pass after the burning of Grey Terminal and we know that Dragon was sticking around because he does get Sabo out of the water. I can imagine that maybe Dragon was staying behind not necessarily because he wanted to catch a glimpse of the Celestial Dragons. He might have been checking in on Luffy. But Luffy wasn't in Windmill Village. I wonder if he just kept looking and came across Sabo by accident? Or maybe he knew from Garp that Luffy was with Dadan? Either way, if he did check in on him and saw that he was hurt, maybe he'd be angry at himself for not making sure that Luffy was far away from Grey Terminal because apparently the man had time to stroll around the city...

Dragon must have known in advance that the inspection of Goa and the World Noble visit would be happening, so he had plenty of time to make any kind of preparation to make sure that Luffy was safe. And yet??

And then he takes a random child back to Baltigo (and we're back at the first issue.)

Just... don't know what's going on in this man's head. X3

Also, in the digitally coloured manga they gave him markings/ tattoos/ scars. It looks just like folds in his shirt in the original black and white manga (you can't see it well in the middle image *lol* Also, Dragon's face is distracting, I know. Crocodile's beautiful husband~)

[starkool]

can i request a idv norton x reader nsfw hc please

yes. you can. (wow another idv req... all i have rn are idv reqs and one sally face from months ago.)(That was a cry for requests)

<---------->

Well well how did you even get here?

Pinned on the bed under Norton who is staring at you with a predatory gaze without saying a word.

You got him jealous. Not that you need to do much to make him jealous, he easily gets jealous.

But you went too far today it seems.

First headcanon as that he'll always dominate. No matter what. No matter how much you beg or do anything for him he wouldnt let you.

(^) Considering this, he would only let you dominate if he's tired and just wants love when he feels like his worlds about to crumble.

(^) Pamper him, praise him, tell him how much he matters to you and that you dont see him as a monster for what happend, hes putty already in your hands.

When he dominates and gets too into the feeling, sometimes (might i mention also accidentally) he would just randomly degrade you without him even noticing. Calling you names like 'Cunt', 'Whore', 'Slut' etc. (Sometimes he gets so into it he starts to rant about how submissive you are for him, and that you wouldnt even be able to live without his cock inside you, or something along those lines.)

Hes ROUGH. His pace is fast, and hes grabbing your hips/waist hard. He will wait until you adjust though, he dosent want to hurt you.

Along the lines of not wanting to hurt you, he wants you to feel pleasure aswell, not just him. Just imagine one day youre in Nortons bed, both of you cuddling when he suddenly asks if you have any fetishes/kinks.

Awkward conversation but he takes your words to heart, he really just wants to pleasure you.

After the whole shabang is done, he would get you water or some snack you ask but he wouldnt bathe you. Hes too embarrassed after to even look at your naked body, so you have to do that one yourself...

But he would make sure youre alright, still conscious and that youre not too hurt of his pace or marks he left.

Would even offer to massage you after, and if you agree, he would make sure to do it gently, not to 'accidentally hurt your now over-sensitive body or something'. (his words)

Now onto kinks, hes definitely into praise.

Maybe hes into semi-public sex, but that depends on where, when and if hes too much in the mood. (Sometimes when hes just horny he just represses the feeling and goes on with his day without it even being there)

Definitely into cock warming. Like you both could be doing anything and he would just sit there, with you on his lap, his cock in your hole as you both do your respective things/hobbies.

He goes absolutely apeshit if you manage to get your hands on lingerie and tease him with it. He would just want to fuck you right then and there and just rip the lingerie off your body if you allow him. (If you manage to speak that is. Take that however you will.)

A few nono's during sex is degradation. He'll feel awful if you call him something derogatory, even if its accidental.

dosent really like public sex but if its semi public and youre into it he might give in.

despises being tied up, but hes hesitant on tying you up, even if its a kink of yours.

hahahahahhaah im going insane x3