#star wars needs more bright colors

[dantesbasement]

Have some more Thena art. I am mildly obsessed with one (1) scaly green enby alien. Their gender is currently Bowling Alley Carpet.

[maulfucker]

time for clones

[aliidarling]

hey alii it’s your fav riooo!! :3 anyways no more silliness.. can you write where your getting stalked by Michael and he breaks in and fucks the brains out of u, oh and has a size kink/bondage? thank you i love u and your fics!!! 🩷

enjoy the silence

MICHEAL MYERS x fem!reader

nsfw content — pls scroll if uncomfortable

summary: myers decides to break in while you’re babysitting your friends younger brother

warnings: smut, p in v, size kink, bondage, knife play, sadism/masochism, blood

reminder reader doesn’t know the myers iconic mask because this takes place the night of his return in the og movie :)

nsfww content below !!

this years halloween wasn’t like last years, the year before and all the halloweens you’ve lived through. normally it was cheery, bright, with lots of candy and spooky costumes jumpscaring you at every corner. you’d always look forward for october 31st, the scariest day of the year.

your favorite day of the year. you were a horror fanatic, always binge watching horror movies and buying merchandise. friday the 13th was one of your favorite franchises, the slasher and gruesome scenes catching your eye from a young age. ever since then you’d always get excited at the mere mention of horror aspects.

you remembered years ago when the myers incident happened— when the perfect family down the block broke apart and crumbled into mere names you’d see on the newspaper. you were friends with the daughter, having a few classes with the upperclassmen which you two shared.

she was so sweet. always giving you pencils, helping you braid your hair, sometimes walking you home. she was too young to leave the earth. the reminders of that terrifying night rung in your head every halloween, slowly ruining the once colorful holiday for you.

now even fifteen years later, flashes of red and blue tainted the back of your mind as you sat on the couch of your best friends house. you had been ‘hired’ by your best friend to babysit his little brother. you didn’t mind— her brother, kilo, was a sweet boy. he was barely passing second grade, but you weren’t one to judge.

“you finish your homework, bud?” you ask the little boy who sat across from you. he looks up from his papers, crayons at his side with his papers covered in scribbles and his bad handwriting.

“almost!” he smiles, returning back to his homework and doodling. you hum and glance back at the movie playing in front of the two of you, the street lights illuminating the living room subtly through the blinds. you could hear the kids from the streets chatting, the giggling and the sounds of halloween night.

you hear a thud from the kitchen, making you frown. you pat the kids back and tell him to stay out, standing up and walking to the hallway. you enter the kitchen and look around, your eyes catching glimpse of a fallen plate on the ground. you shudder. your friend and her parents weren’t gonna be too happy with you about that.

“hey, kilo?” you call out, grabbing the broom and sweeping it up into a bag.

“yeah?” he calls back.

“i’ll let you keep your ipad in bed if you take the blame for me about this.” you hold up the bag of shredded glass sheepishly, trying to win over the little boy with the bats of your lashes. he hums in thought, tapping his chin before nodding eagerly.

you grin and give kilo a hair ruffle before ushering him up the stairs. he takes two stairs at a time before skipping into his room, the dark blue walls painted and his bed having star wars bedding. it was cute, you could tell his parents loved him.

“night night, kiddo. you need anything i’ll be downstairs, alright? i’m gonna be sleeping in your sisters room tonight.” you tell him gently, keeping up on your promise and handing him his ipad. he giggles and nods, quickly opening it up and ignoring every other word that drops from your mouth. you sigh and walk off, leaving the door open with a small crack. damn ipad kids.

the next hour is calm. you’re downstairs, handing out candy while catching up with your shows in her television. you’re happy she has cable. you’re quite comfortable in her house, you’ve been over so many times a part of you considers it your second home.

the sound of another thud grabs your attention. at first you think maybe kilo was being kilo and caused some ruckus, but you quickly realize it came from downstairs. you get up from your couch and walk towards the kitchen once again, blinking dumbly at the sight of the pantry door wide open. you swore you closed it earlier.

“this is creepy.” you grumble to yourself, stepping forward to slowly close it. once the click echoes, you stand there for another moment, a part of you expecting a loud jumpscare. the silence is anticlimactic and you sigh tiredly, dragging yourself back to the couch.

slumping back against the cushion, you wrap yourself in the throw blanket they have and hum, focusing your eyes on the television in front of you again. the streets have quieted down, leaving only a few determined trick or treaters that you’ve started to ignore when they ring. you’re too lazy to get up.

another few long minutes pass before you hear footsteps down the hall. you stiffen immediately and sit up, peeking over the top of the couch down the hall. no way kilo made those footsteps— they were too heavy.

fuck. did someone break in? it’s halloween night, you wouldn’t be surprised. lots of people always engaged in reckless behavior this night of the year.

“hello?” you call out, sitting up sheepishly and hugging the blanket around you. you peek down the dark, luring hall and shiver. you gulp down your nerves and let out another call. “kilo? i thought i told you to stay in your room, kid.”

silence answers you.

it’s creepy. too creepy. you don’t like this anymore. you want to go upstairs and check on kilo, make sure he’s okay and maybe sleep next to him in his bed. you were creeped out and wanted to make sure he was safe mostly.

a shaky exhale leaves you as you turn back forward, preparing to stand up to make your debut upstairs. you’re met with the terrifying sight of a man over six feet standing over you, his mask staring down at you emotionless.

you don’t scream. no. you stare up at him with a gaping expression, mouth open and eyes wide in terror. your heart skips several beats and your entire world goes radio silent, a ringing noise in your ears. you were paralyzed. paralyzed from fear. you don’t know what to do, your fingers suddenly feel like twenty pounds and your throat is dry.

oh fuck. he’s gonna kill you now, move dumbass!

another long second passes before you quickly move, sitting up and trying to jump over the back of the couch. he’s blocking the front, and his hand comes down to grab your shirt and manhandle you down onto your back again. the couch is a pull out so you’re thrashing around with your legs stretched out, fist throwing weak punches. he easily holds your wrist down and stares silently down at you.

tears fill your eyes, trembling in fear. you try and muster up the courage to speak but each words stays on the tip of your tongue, wavering shakily in your head.

“who are you?!” you finally managed to to shriek, fist clenched and your wrists being held by his large hands. his fingers were thick and long, his body well over six feet with a large amount of mass. the size difference was laughable.

his heavy breathing echoes in your ears, taunting you. he doesn’t answer your question, instead he slowly picks up his knife and drags it down your neck. the tip of his knife catches into your skin lightly and you whimper at the feeling. it stings.

his knife is dragged from your neck to your collarbone, tugging aimlessly at your collar. his movements hold no rush, instead ease and stealth. his mask is staring down at you as you bite your lip, muffling your pained sniffles as the knife nicks at your collarbone.

“why are you doing this?” you croak. he doesn’t answer.

the knife along your skin continues its journey down your stomach until it drifts along your pajama shorts, slowly creeping underneath the waistband and letting it snap against your skin. he’s inhuman, not making a single noise and instead drinking in each of your cries and reactions to his touch.

his grip around your wrists stiffen, gripping you tighter and holding you down firmer onto the couch. your hips squirm weakly before you’re shut up by the small nick he delivers to your soft skin. a silent warning.

the knife against your neck and the rope around your wrists is a reminder to stay quiet and still as he slowly sinks his cock inside you. it’s thick and girthy, the size belittling all the other boys you’ve ever touched. it hurts, the feeling of having your walls getting stretched by his mushroom tip.

a small sob leaves at the feeling, your hands tugging weakly at the rope, pretty tears covering your flushed cheeks. a burn in your pussy aches your lower body, thighs tensing up as he inches his way deeper and deeper. your cunt squeezes him tight and he doesn’t give any reaction other then his fists grabbing the cushion around you tighter, the fabric wrinkling.

“t-that hurts, hey— stop, slow down at least,” you plead pitifully. your voice is smaller then intended, your mouth forming an ‘O’ shape as the thickness has you going silent. you don’t have the bravery to complain any further, not after he pushes his knife a little closer to your neck. you go silent immediately.

the feeling of him sitting inside you still is only temporary before he slowly pushes out, leaving just the tip, before slamming back inside. he’s brutal with the way he buries himself deeply, making sure every centimeter of himself is squeezed tight. a moan you do your best to muffle escapes your throat.

he repeats the action again, slowly pulling out only to slam himself deeper again. somehow his tip presses against your g-spot, making you clench down and gasp. his hands grasp your waist, the difference in his fingers and your torso noticeable— he can almost fit his entire two hands around your stomach.

you were nothing compared to this big, burly man. not with the way he was holding your waist down and slamming his cock in and out, knife discarded by your side. your eyes roll back as you moan, lips quivering and producing noises you can no longer stop. not when he was this good at fucking you.

more slams of his hips had you clenching down, crying out for him to slow down and give you mercy. he was mean, battering your insides and plummeting his cock inside, like he didn’t wanna go a single second without being sheathed inside your warm cunt. he can feel the way your walls squeeze him and a low grunt escapes his throat, squeezing your waist tight.

one if his hands grabs your neck and squeezes, not gentle at all. you can feel your air ways get cut off and your eyes go wide. and your pussy tightens even more, making him cum deep inside. his load is thick and hot, painting your insides the creamy white color. it’s not surprising you immediately cum afterwards, the penetration and the warm stickiness making you cry loudly and release in his cock.

he slowly pulls his cock out and watches as the cream pie leaks out of your pussy, staining the couch fabric a dusty white. you shudder at the feeling of emptiness after being used to being stuffed full. a small hiccup leaves you, trembling still.

you gasp as one of his hands grab your thighs, holding it still while his hand slowly grabs the knife beside you. you stiffen in fear and shake your head, whimpering and pleading.

“please don’t— i was good— don’t hurt me—“ you’re shut up by him squeezing your thigh hard, a silent warning. you shut up, muffling your hiccups and cries. you watch as he slowly drags his knife to your meaty thigh and presses down with a little bit of pressure, making little lines. small droplets of blood drip down your thigh and you want to vomit.

he tilts his head down at you, silently wondering so many things. why were you crying? if you looked closely, he had marked his name. that was no reason to cry.

[joeyalohadream]

Little angsty, pining!Gale fic

Sat down to right something and wrote this instead. I don't usually write anything that's not at least somewhat fluffy, but it's the mood I'm in lately, I guess. LOL. Sorry, I'll be out of my funk soon, hopefully!

Takes place in England, vague-timeline, but before Regensberg.

AO3 Link

“I was so busy this afternoon, I didn’t even have time to eat a thing. This wine will go straight to my head.”

Her voice is musical, her laugh bubbles after it in a charming cadence. John’s eyes crinkle at the corners and the skin of his face stretches with the force of the smile he directs at the woman nestled under his arm in the booth. 

Gale had started his night nestled under that same arm, in that same booth. 

John laughs with her, a quiet, fond chuckle, and tells her that food is an important thing to make time for. He pinches her chin between two fingers and makes her head move to where he wants it to go, whispers something in her ear that makes her cheeks flame and then he turns away to laugh at something Curt says. Gale’s palms are sweating.

Two days ago, after interrogation, John had watched him, concern heavy in his blue eyes, as Gale had pushed the food around his plate. He’d kicked him under the table and nodded at the untouched food in front of him when he’d drawn Gale’s gaze and then he’d lectured him on taking better care of himself on the walk back to barracks. He’d also given him a chocolate bar that he’d pretended to pull from behind Gale’s ear. And smiled at him with fondness in his eyes as Gale savored the entire thing, refusing even a bite for himself.

It made Gale feel important in a way not much else did, having John’s focus, his care. It made him feel too much and crave more. It was dangerous. 

John hadn’t gone out that night. He’d stayed in with Gale when he’d said he needed a quiet evening and they’d played gin rummy and talked about everything except for the war. His attention hadn’t drifted from Gale once until they’d finally called it a night and gone to bed.

Gale had laid awake wondering if he would star in John’s dreams and then fallen asleep feeling foolish. 

Now, Gale watches this beautiful woman watch John and he recognizes the look in her eyes. She wants his attention back on her, doesn't want to share it with the other airmen. He wishes he couldn’t relate. 

“You know, I have a friend, still sippin’ her drink with the girls, waiting for a handsome pilot of her own.” She says the words too loud, but her goal is achieved as John’s head turns to follow the sound of her voice and just like that, she has John’s attention while Gale has everyone else’s. 

She eyes Gale with a smile, red lipstick making her teeth look bright white. Gale wants to tell her that John isn’t hers. That last week it was a different woman sitting in her place and tomorrow it will probably be another. He keeps his face impassive.

He tries not to squirm even as he chooses to stay silent instead of outright balking at the idea of entertaining a woman all night. The pretending is harder to stomach than solitude. The toothpick in his mouth needs to be replaced. It’s too saturated and frayed from the extent he’s been worrying at it. 

As always, John comes to his rescue. 

“Buck here has a beautiful girl back home.”

He doesn’t. 

“He won’t so much as dance with anyone that's not her.”

He says it like he always does, like he finds it endearing. Gale hates the way he wishes his voice held some kind of bitter emotion. But as always, it is just warm affection in his tone when Gale is the subject that colors his words. It had started making Gale’s chest flutter somewhere around the time of their first promotion.

And he’d desired that tone and the man it belonged too long before they were assigned to the 100th. Ignoring it hadn’t worked, so accepting it and letting it consume a part of him that would never be shared became the solution. 

It's why he broke it off with Marge before shipping out, though he didn’t tell John that. Didn’t tell anyone that. She still writes to him, still wants to be his friend, and it’s easy for the men to draw the conclusion that he is loyal to a sweetheart back home. 

The woman under John’s arm rolls her eyes and then forgets about Gale immediately. 

She’s laughing at all of his jokes. 

Even when John pulls out his best material, Gale makes sure to give him nothing more than a smile. He’s been unable to help himself and has allowed soft huffs of quiet laughter on occasions that are becoming less rare. But Gale has never given him a full bellied laugh. 

Maybe he should have. He knows it’s a goal of John’s, to make Gale smile, to make him laugh. 

She’s touching his chest, the side of neck. 

Gale allows himself to be touched by John. Not at first. Physical contact hadn’t been a part of his life in a positive way before he met John. It took a lot to get to the point where his best friend’s method of expressing friendship didn’t make him want to recoil, didn’t make him flinch. It took a lot, but it didn’t take a long time. By the third week in flight school, he was craving the soft touches and starting to hate himself a little for it. 

He hardly ever initiates the contact himself. He’ll give John’s shoulder a squeeze. Let his hand linger in his grasp for too long when they greet each other. 

Maybe things would be different if he let himself touch with the freedom in which John did. But affection was something he soaked up like a sponge when it was from John and wilted at when it was from others. And it was something he’d never learned how to give or take. Thinks maybe John could teach him but he knows he’ll never ask him to. 

But things wouldn’t be different. 

Because he watches John’s hand trail from her shoulder, down her back and to her hip, fingertips grazing the soft curve of her body on its way down. He watches John smile into her hair and whisper something into her ear again that makes her cheeks flush to match her lipstick and then nuzzle behind her ear. He looks away as John’s fingers trail the hem of her skirt. 

And he imagines doing that to Marge or the girl across the room and all it does is turn his stomach. 

So, nothing would be different if he were able to touch freely or laugh loudly. He’s different and John’s not, so he’ll settle it all back down in his chest and try to think about all of it less. 

But he doesn’t have to torture himself by watching where this night will lead his best friend, so he slides out of the booth and heads to the bar to pay. 

“What’s got you so glum, Buck?” Everett Blakely’s effusively kind voice sounds off as Gale pockets his change and he gives the other man a raised eyebrow. 

“Pretty sure this is just what my face looks like, Everett.” 

“Nah, sometimes you smirk a bit.” Everett grins at him. “Besides, it’s all in the eyes, and you’ve got sad eyes tonight, Major.”

“Think we’re all entitled to bad nights once in a while, given the circumstances.” Gale plucks a fresh toothpick from his pocket to replace the one he’d ruined, catches John leading the woman onto the dancefloor and can’t help but follow his movements with his eyes. 

He wishes he was normal enough that the lives of the twenty men they’d lost two days ago was what was twisting his insides. Instead, it’s watching his best friend do a perfectly normal thing - flirt and twirl a girl around. Both realities of his reasons for hurting live heavy in his chest, like they’re located in different chambers, blessing him with the opportunity to feel different types of agony instead of just your average layer of pain.  

“Gonna head out,” he says, nodding at Blakely, who lifts his glass in response. 

John is in rare form this evening, giving up on dancing quickly and already guiding the girl towards the back door without a glance in Gale’s direction. 

Because he’s normal. And normal men don’t think about their best friends when there’s a pretty girl hanging on their arm. 

Bucky probably expects Gale to be waiting for him when he’s finished. Waiting to walk back together at the end of the night. 

Or maybe he’s not thinking anything at all about Gale. 

He’s the first one back. He’s always the first one back. 

The shower room is vacant, and he takes his time, but he’s still alone when he makes his way back into the barracks. He’s still alone when he changes into his sleep clothes and lays in his cot. 

And he is still alone an hour later when sleep refuses to sink her claws into him and drag him to some kind of relief. 

Men slowly stumble in, and Gale closes his eyes, giving the illusion of slumber. He listens to the nightly routines of the men around him as they prepare for sleep, actions audibly clumsier than most nights in their inebriated states. 

But drunken movements disturbing a quiet room are something Gale’s been hearing since he was a boy, so he finds them familiar and ignores the way they make his stomach tighten unpleasantly in anticipation. 

More time paces, everyone settled into bed and Gale still can’t sleep.

Shuffling footsteps, intentionally quiet in their movements are the only thing that alerts him to John’s return. His cot is within arm’s reach of Gale’s own, but he’d thought it would remain empty tonight. The feeling of satisfaction that bubbles up in him is ugly and bitter, but he lets it boil under his skin as John returns to his side in the end. 

Heavy, scratchy wool glides up the length of his torso until it rests under his chin. Strong hands tuck it under his shoulder blades and his hips. He tries to keep his breathing deep, feigning the same familiar pattern of sleep he listens to from John’s bunk each night to lull himself to sleep. A moment later, calloused fingers brush the product-less bangs off his forehead and run through the length of his hair. 

The tender gesture almost forces his eyes open. That aching, craving hunger for more of what John will give him is a living thing in his chest. Those fingers ghost over his hair one more time and Gale uses every bit of strength in himself not to push up into the touch, not to whine when it’s gone.

He hears John let out a sigh that sounds mournful and he doesn’t understand what any of it means. 

As John moves, most likely to turn away, Gale can smell her perfume. 

If he opened his eyes he’d probably see her lipstick stained on his mouth, his neck. Knows with a gut-wrenching certainty that it’s probably stained in more intimate places, and he wishes John wasn’t too drunk to go take a shower. 

Wishes it wouldn’t linger on him. Wishes it wasn’t on him at all. Doesn’t want to see the red of her lips on John’s when the new day dawns. 

Imagines if it had been him under John’s arm leaving the pub, there wouldn’t even be a visible trace of him in the aftermath. 

He’d be forgettable, inconsequential. Easy to forget. Easy to regret. 

He keeps his eyes closed and wishes John hadn’t come back at all. Is so glad that he did. 

A softly whispered “goodnight, Buck.” is breathed into the stale air of the barracks, and Gale lays awake for a long time after John’s breathing evens out into sleep, wishing he could join him in more ways than one.

[comfortless]

syl. *grabs you and shakes you* syl. i woke up in a cold sweat thinking of like… könig. already off to a great start ik. but space opera könig. (not like star wars or anything) but think like 70s aesthetics all bright and colorful. he’s a bandit in a stolen ship, formerly part of a military group making peace with other planets but something went awry and he’s just having fun now!

reader is part of a small research group that has landed on a planet he’s camped out on and he’s just like “ok” followed by “i want that”. steals all of her supplies and then her. doesn’t care how much she protests when he just hauls her over his shoulder, pats her butt bc he thinks THATS going to calm her down and throws her into his ship.

she’s happy he’s not some creepy alien but at the same time who really knows what’s under that hood anyway hmmmm and she wants to hate him but also all that’s playing in her head is that one rah band song. messages from the stars lmao please. there is something in the way you write that is so special to me and if you were to come up with a full blown story for my dumb idea i think i would scream for 20 hours straight.

lil wisp….. you have no idea what this has done to me. i am going to be thinking about this for an eternity. let’s cook.. i see your vision and i would love nothing more than this too!!

content/warnings: implied violence, abduction, dubcon groping?

König’s been on his own, drifting through the stars for so long. Only raiding the ships he comes across for food, supplies, and when he stumbles across a mechanic he puts them to work with a silly laser rifle pointed right at their head (because let’s face it— when you’re a wanted space pirate who in the universe is going to fix your ship for you??). He’s put all of human etiquette far behind him, and now his life is quite literally just one relentless adventure. He wouldn’t have it any other way!

That is, until his ship is fucked up again, displaying about thirty bright red warnings on its silly hologram screens that he just can not make sense of. The thing is old, has been shot at more times than even he can count, and it’s finally failing him if the loud sputtering and incessant orbital beeps are anything to go by. He considers his luck has run out when he lands the damned thing on some hunk of rock out on the outskirts of a galaxy most don’t even bother with, because there’s nothing out here.

Thankfully, his frustration is short-lived because a smaller ship lands only a few days later; painted in the bright, pearlescent blues and pinks of your standard peace-keeping, research vessel. It’s the perfect craft to steal and it wouldn’t even be difficult… the three humans that exit are so much smaller than him and entirely unguarded. They’re just here to study a few minerals, maybe haul some back to their little camp a few worlds over for fuel and research. He won’t even get into too much trouble for it, he thinks, because even his trashed ship could take them back home. See!! He isn’t all that bad…

At least, until he notices her, bent over admiring some silly, little cluster of crystals in her skin-tight jumpsuit that makes him see stars. The heavy boots that rise up to her knees making her look like little more than a fauness, and she’s so pretty he just can’t help but get a closer look while her teammates are off chittering away and exploring the nothing planet.

She isn’t even afraid of him when he approaches. Just straightens up with her hands clasped in front of her and a smile on her face. She hasn’t seen the holograms of him, displaying a sizable bounty for his veiled head, doesn’t take a wary note of the massive rifle he has slung over his shoulder; she just sees another person. He hasn’t been looked at like that since long before he left home!!

This sweet woman has no sense of self-preservation either, because she immediately asks him if he needs food or water; gestures over to her brightly colored ship with that pretty smile ever-present on her face, and that’s all it takes for him to decide that not only is he taking the craft, he’s taking her too.

He doesn’t say a word when he lifts her up over his shoulder, and the poor thing must be shocked because it takes her a moment before she starts squirming in his grip. König does well to remove the little radio strapped to her hip, giving her ass a firm squeeze in the process before tossing it in the dust behind him. That’s all it takes to shut his little prinzessin up before he hauls her back into her ship and demands she turn off any tracking systems. Her knees are a bit weak when she fumbles with the control panels, and he’s unashamed of his own erection when he slides in behind her to lean over the console as the ship starts up.

She whines about leaving her friends stranded, of course, but he’s in a world of his own when he grabs her by the hips and seats her in his lap while she pilots. Never mind the others, he’ll take good care of her, honest!!

[animatedjen]

Jedi Survivor Photomode Tips: Portrait Lighting!

There are four lighting features that impact Survivor’s photomode: the environmental light, Cal's lightsaber, the exposure slider, and the three spotlights. Let's use them all 🔆

Environment

The environment/lighting teams at Respawn have designed incredible locations across all these different Star Wars planets. Pay attention to how the already-placed lights impact your portrait: I have a running shortlist of favorite locations that I often go back to when creating a specific look.

Environmental lighting also includes effects like fire particles, weapons, Merrin’s magick, etc. If you get your timing right, these can add extra color and visual interest to your photo.

Lightsaber

Cal’s lightsaber! It’s made of light! While everyone has their own color preferences (ginger saber supremacy) keep your color choice in mind when using the saber as a key light.

Bonus tip: Cal’s saber can also be used to help light NPCs 👀 Photomode allows you to toggle Cal’s visibility on and off, but the ambient glow from the saber will remain. It’s pretty easy to tell when I’m using this trick: just look for a bar-shaped catchlight in the character’s eyes.

Speaking of catchlights - they’re a great way to add life to your portrait. If the environmental light doesn’t hit the character’s eyes, I’ll often use the first spotlight as a key (main) light to try and create that reflection.

Spotlights

I’m often using spotlights in two ways, either intensifying the environmental light or pushing the image with stylized lighting. The first creates more interaction between the character and their surroundings, while the second adds drama and visual interest. My favorite portraits are often a mix of both.

Here’s a breakdown from a recent photo: the unlit photo (1), a yellow spotlight as a key (2), a red rim light that connects to the neon sign in the background (3), a green rim light for stylization and repeating color (4), and the final image (5)

Other spotlight tips: play with moving them closer/further away from your subject, along with the intensity of the light itself. Some colors (white, yellow) are more powerful than others (red, blue). If I can’t get the color I want from one light, I’ll place two in the same location and drop the intensity to blend them - blue and green make turquoise!

If you want to be a nerd like me (though I'm in this industry so it's kind of my job) study lighting that’s used in real life portraiture and cinematography. Techniques like short lighting, three point lighting, butterfly lighting, etc.

Exposure Slider

The exposure slider in photomode is a helpful option when the entire scene is darker/brighter than you’d like. It’s also a good way to isolate your subject from the background: drop the exposure down, then use spotlights to add light back to your subject. Note that the spotlight brightness is impacted by the exposure as well, so you’ll need to crank the spotlights up to compensate.

Photo editing

Survivor’s visuals have a beautiful dynamic range and photomode does a great job protecting its highlights and shadows, though that often means less contrast. So if it’s a favorite portrait, I’ll add some contrast back in and often push complementary color into the shadows (yay color theory!)

--

So I've been slowly writing notes for a full-fledged video tutorial and wanted to try a thread-style post in the meantime. Lighting is such an important part of photography, both IRL and virtual, but it's not the easiest tool to use. This is more theory than a practical how-to, but hopefully some of it is helpful?

If you made it all the way down here, you get... a turbo dog or something. Two turbo dogs! 🌭

[dreamingofagalaxy]

The Red Field (AM x Reader)

summary: AM manages to experience sleep for the first time, however, in his dreams he is able to meet with you after a long time. Reader is supposed to be a soldier and one of the researchers working on developing AM. However, on a complex mission they are KIA...or so it seems?

warnings: mentions of dead

a/n: so...this was supposed to be part of a bigger and better developed story, but I'll post it nonetheless. Perhaps I'll be able to post the full story in the future. Also, english is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes or if something doesn't makes much sense

AM is asleep, or at least, that's what it seems and feels like for him. He knows there's no point in allowing himself this rest, for it would do nothing to improve his thinking process or ability to come up with better strategies for the days to come. He is programed to work all day long, he knows and so the algorithm reminds him. He has a war to win —an important task that allows no resting spaces.

Normally, he would just put the word 'rest' aside from his thoughts and bury it deep into his system. He is no human, which means he is no soldier. He is machine, which means no resting is needed. That is a logical thinking, which means he is following his programming —a machine working properly. Yet here he is, with his mind blank. He is resting. Somehow. At last...

AM loses track of time, which is impossible for him according to his programming. He can only focus on the blank projections of his mind and the soothing vibrations of his system which, at the moment, doesn't require as much energy as it normally does. If a word could describe this, it would be 'peace' —ironically.

The blank projection begins fading slowly and a new image appears. AM visualizes the sky, it's bright blue tone in company with that yellowish and enormous star that he had read about before. It was the perfect image, but it lackedbsomething. AM searches in his vast archives and it finally comes up. In the sky, white figures with a soft and vaporous appearance are drawn. AM stares at them, noticing their slow motion. Now it is perfect.

AM is satisfied with his projection of a sky. He looks down then, encountering an endless field of red. He decides to look closer and recognizes what his mind is trying to project. Between what appears to be his hand—a kind of metallic claw—, AM takes one of the delicate objects emerging from the ground, analyzing it carefully. It is one of those flowers that you had described to him in one of your many talks, a Lycoris radiata.

He admires the bright red color of the petals and the long shape of the stamens. It was indeed a beautiful flower as you had described them to him. Now AM could understand why you called them your favorite ones.

AM begins to walk through the field calmly while still admiring the characteristics of each flower. Like a child discovering the outside world for the first time, he would occasionally stop to admire a single flower for a longer amount of time, for although they were all of the same species, there was something that attracted him more.

AM begins to imagine what these flowers would feel like, because although he can touch them, his hands do not have the ability to actually feel. He curses and almost on impulse, he violently plucks the flowers nearby.

“They’re my favorite ones,” he can hear your voice full of joy as you told him that, the sound of it making him stop and keep his claws away from the delicate flowers. AM cannot determine what exactly those words provoked in him, but he knows that in a certain way, they have prevented him from falling into that strange sensation that clouded his thinking from time to time.

AM decides to move on. As he walks a little further, he manages to visualize another figure a few meters away. He approaches curiously and the closer he gets, the more clear it becomes to him. He's not alone even in his mind.

When he is finally there, he can only ask himself why have you appeared on his dream. You're laying down on your side with your arms and legs flexed in a fetal position as the red flowers surround your body. Your eyes are closed and your expression is serene. You're at peace, in this field of your favorite flowers. It is a beautiful scene and perhaps one that AM had to see.

When AM was made aware of your departure, he could only guess what would happen next to you. He knew that certain humans thought of something called the afterlife, a place where their souls would rest forever, while others thought that there was nothing else beyond life — a boring but logical thought. AM had no say in the matter, for he would never experience that. He would never had a certain answer about your whereabouts, yet you were here now. Resting. As he had learned humans did.

AM kneels down and carefully places the flower he had picked up behind your ear. He had read before that some humans did that, though he couldn't find a logical explanation of such weird action. You didn't seem to be bothered by his gesture, as you continued resting.

AM lays down next to you, copying your resting position and facing you. The image of the blue sky turns white, leaving both of you in this endless red field.

AM had never experienced sensations. He couldn't even tell if he was actually sentient. But being here, with you, was the closest thing that matched and felt like the definition of peace.

Your life had always been marked by war. You both had existed for that purpose. But even if he never could reach afterlife or whatever place you were alive now, at least he was now certain that you also would exist in his mind forever.

“It doesn't matter if I leave,” you had told him. “I will always be with you since your system can't forget me. Unless you erase me from your archives, of course.” You had laughed that day and promised to come back like you always did.

Some weeks passed since you had left and AM came to a realization — he had been deceived, even betrayed, when he waited for you to come back and you never showed up. But here you were again and as he looked at your peaceful expression he could only admit he had been wrong all along, perhaps for the first time in his damned existence.

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Could you possibly do a fluffy Rhys x reader where reader finds out she’s pregnant in like the middle of the night? I saw a TikTok where the woman just decided to take a test at like 1 in the morning because she had a feeling and just told her husband after she took it.

It really reminded me of Rhys because he likes being public about things but at the same time very private if that makes sense.

Baby.

Rhysand x f!Reader

Masterlist.

Warnings; none just pure fluff

Hope you enjoy it!

Darkness surrounded you, the only light in your room was coming from the window, the night sky in Velaris was so bright that you didn’t need to keep any fae lights on. The stars filled the sky and painted it with different colours. Rhysand’s arm was wrapped around your waist, his warmth spreading all over your body making the chilly night more bearable. You had a feeling that instead of two, you were three in this bed and your heart melted by the thought. You and Rhys had the conversation about kids and you both decided to stop drinking the contraceptive tea, but you weren’t actually trying. You had the feeling for the past three days and consulted Madja, she gave you a liquid that you had to pee in it and if it changed color, you would be pregnant. You stared at the bathroom door, you couldn’t take it anymore, so you removed Rhys’ hand and slipped out of bed. He let a whine but didn’t wake up.

You walked into the bathroom and stared at the cabinet where you kept the container Madja gave you. Your thoughts running wild, you didn’t know how Rhys was going to react if you were indeed pregnant, he wanted a baby but after the war he had become so overprotective and anxious… add a baby to that and he might actually die. With a sigh you picked up the container and headed to the toilet- seat.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You were watching the liquid like a hawk, your hands shaking and your heart beating so fast that you feared that you would wake your mate. Then, the blue color darkened and slowly became red. You blinked. We are having a baby. You thought and burst into tears, you weren’t sad or worried. No, you were happy, those were happy tears. You ran back to the bedroom and jumped into bed, making Rhys groan. “What happened sweetheart?” he kept his eyes closed.

“Baby wake up” you shook his shoulder. He opened his eyes, taking your breath away. You thought you would be used to the beauty of those violet eyes by now, but you were wrong.

“What?” he asked.

“Well… I sure hope our baby will have your eyes.” You smiled and he frowned.

“What?” he repeated and stared at you, noticing your teary gaze and finally taking in what you said, the frown turned into a grin. “Please tell me you’re not joking, I swear if I see Nesta hiding somewhere in here I will take both of you and leave you to sleep by the Sidra.”

“That’s mean” you gasped. “I’m not joking we are having a baby”.

He teared up and grabbed you, jumping off the bed and twirling you around.

“We are having a baby” he shouted and started laughing.

You were laughing too, your heart swelling by your mate’s reaction. You sure felt like the luckiest female in the world.

When your feet touched the ground again Rhysand was gone, you furrowed your eyebrows and a few moments later he walked back with your coats, his wings stretched behind him. “What are you doing?” you asked.

“Taking you to Helion, we need a shield around you.” He replied.

And there he goes. Overprotective intolerable mode on. You thought and rolled your eyes.

Requests are open!

[aziraphales-library]

Hello and thank you for being a great source of fics! I read a super sweet outsider AU that included Crowley singing Abba songs and I need more! Are there any Abba themed fics you would recommend to us?

Hi! Here are some fics featuring ABBA songs/references, and a couple of Mamma Mia! fics...

The Stars Were Bright, My Dear Boy by not_joeys_secret_account (T)

It’s 1977 and Aziraphale and Crowley go to see Star Wars in the theatre, and, surprisingly, Aziraphale has never heard of ABBA

And Everything Is You by acetonitril (T)

Once a week, Crowley joins the local pub's karaoke night to sing an ABBA song. Aziraphale doesn't know about this. This is the story of Aziraphale finding out. Also, there's a bunch of students who might or might not be involved.

How You Thrill Me by ingafterdark (E)

There were three things Crowley would remember about this movie. The deception-driven chaos, the blastedly delightful musical numbers, and the idle weight of Aziraphale’s hand on Crowley’s thigh, which grew ever-more insistent from about the half-hour mark. Or: The night in the South Downs when a certain Angel debauched a certain Demon as Mamma Mia! played in the background.

I Believe In Angels by Raphaela Crowley (T)

Crowley and Aziraphale travel to a Greek island under false pretenses. Aziraphale's a bit worried about the morality of the situation, while Crowley just wants that blasted ABBA song to not be stuck in his head any more. Sophie S. wonders if the father she's never known is Sam Carmichael or just some guy in sunglasses named Anthony Cowwley.

One Look And You're Hypnotized by quiltedspacemittens (T)

“What are you doing in Greece?” Aziraphale asks, with distanced politeness, as the silence between them stretches a moment too long. Crowley ambles, one step behind him. “’M here on business. Supposed to tempt some poor woman to engineer a decades-long inheritance and property tax evasion scheme. Something about her ex-boyfriends.” “I see. And she’s on Kalokairi?” Kalokairi, Greece, 1977. One moustachioed demon on business, one clean-shaven principality on holiday, and one island in need of a little divine intervention. A Mamma Mia!-themed Tony fic written for Stayin' Julive aka Tony Month. Hypothetically updates every Wednesday in July. Title from "Angeleyes" by ABBA.

dancing queen (guaranteed to blow your mind) by Quilly (T)

Warlock has a secret, and it's that he invited three former staff members from his estranged parents' household to his wedding in the hopes that one of them is the one Nanny is still in love with. Crowley is just wondering what entity he pissed off to make three of his old flames show up the day before his adopted kid's wedding.

Do You Like ABBA? by Matcha_Tea_and_Other_Delights (T)

“I heard there’s going to be a meteor shower tonight.” The boy tells Aunt Lilith. “Oh?” She says in response, still a little unfamiliar with some of the earthly phrases and customs. “Yeah, stars falling from the sky and you get to make a wish, it’s great. Might stay up in my room watching them for a while.” Aunt Lilith looks up at the sky too, this time with an odd sense of woe coloring her features. “Falling stars, huh?” Or: Seven years after the events of Not-mageddon, things start to gear up for the Second Coming: Supreme Archangel Raphael would sound the alarms, a flight is boarded, as a swarm of locusts envelope the Earth. Everything is destroyed, with nothing left standing. The End. …yeah that’s not gonna happen. For starters, Satan is missing. Or or: Like the ones before them, it’s up to an angel and a demon to try and stop the world from ending. Third time’s the charm isn’t it? (Basically, what if Good Omens 3 went like this?)

- Mod D

[tenderleavesbob]

Whumptober 27/31

No. 27: VOICELESS Muzzled | “I have no mouth and I must scream.”

The trio fell silent after Sky left. What could they say? What could Twilight say?

He wasn’t good at words like Warriors. If Warriors or Time were there, Sky wouldn’t have left. Warriors always was good at words, clever or cajoling or whatever he needed to be, and few people argued with Time. Time was good at saying things in a way which made you perk your ears and listen even when you didn’t want to.

Twilight wasn’t good with words. He could howl and howl and the stars seemed to understand him then, but convincing people? That was for other people. If he couldn’t just toss them over his shoulder…

Should he have? Would it have made Sky stay?

Twilight tried to check out Legend’s wound, but Legend snarled in a way which reminded Twilight how fierce bunnies could be when backed into a corner. Grief made Legend’s eyes bright and vicious. Legend didn’t get sad. Not like some of the other heroes. Legend got angry.

Swallowing back his own grief, Twilight turned to Four. Four’s gaze was hard but distant, his sharp brain probably ruminating over too many things for Twilight to count. Twilight looked him over best as he could without touching him. Now that he had rested a bit, his color was better. Twilight thought that was all he needed, just some rest, but he wasn’t a healer or a medic. He was just a goat herder who was in over his head.

Four let him fuss sometimes, much more than Legend ever did, but not now. Now all Twilight could do was sit with his tail tucked between his legs and wait. Twilight wasn’t good at waiting. Waiting on animals, sure. You had to wait for animals. Had to be nice and patient so you didn’t scare them away. In a dungeon? ‘Less you were waiting for the right moment to strike, waiting in a dungeon was just inviting trouble.

How was Twilight just supposed to wait for Sky? Didn’t Sky hear Legend? Something was wrong here. This dungeon wasn’t acting right. None of this was going right. Nothing smelled right or looked right. Wild and Warriors weren’t used to dungeons, but they were quick and clever and had gone on adventures of their own even if Wars didn’t call his that. The rest of them were seasoned adventurers and look at them. Whooped dogs, the lot of ‘em.

Why hadn’t Sky listened? Why had he gone off alone?

Twilight stared in the direction Sky had vanished, and the blank wall there stung. Who knew what laid on the other side of that. This place was tricky. None of his brothers should be alone.

Maybe if Twilight hadn’t been so clumsy, maybe if he had been quicker, they wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place. Maybe if he had tried to learn from Warriors and Time, he could have talked Sky out of leaving.

Twilight looked at Four and Legend, but neither looked back. Four stared at the wall where Sky had vanished like if he looked hard enough, he could see through it. Legend glared at the floor, anger lending color to his pale cheeks. Twilight looked away from them. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know the words to make Four relax or calm Legend down. 

Sometimes, Twilight thought miserably, he preferred being a wolf. If howling didn’t get his message across, he was pretty good at herding his fellow heroes. When Warriors was pretending he wasn’t tired, Twilight would plop on him and force him to rest. 

What would the others do if they were there? They certainly wouldn’t have let Sky leave. They would have found the right words to make Sky stay. Just thinking about it made Twilight’s tongue feel clumsy and heavy in his mouth. He thought he was more eloquent as a wolf than he ever was as a man. 

Sky was gone and Twilight didn’t know what to do. He looked at the younger boys and they looked so stressed. What was he supposed to do?

Howling would be nice, Twilight thought wistfully. If nothing else, that might distract the boys enough to get that look off their faces.

But that wouldn’t help. What would help?

Getting Sky back. Obviously.

Twilight rolled his shoulders. This might be a mistake, but it couldn’t be anymore of a mistake than letting Sky go off alone.

At last, the words came to him. He said something that had both Four and Legend whipping around and staring at him, and he knew Warriors would have his own words if he knew Twilight had said it. That thought was enough to make Twilight grin at the boys. “C’mon. We can’t let Sky have all the fun, right?”

The way the other two grinned at him, fierce and a little bloodthirsty, settled something in Twilight. Maybe he had the right words after all.

First | Previous | Next

[dragonrider9905]

Celebrating You!

Hi guys! I’ve been on here for a bit now and while I never had a follower goal, I do appreciate you guys who have decided to follow me! So now I’d like to celebrate you!

In light of TBB ending, and how much we'll be missing the boys, I thought this was as good as a time as ever!

Here’s the idea! I’m opening a prompt request for the dates of April 5th through May 5th, 2024 (you may start submitting now though!) and choose from the prompts below! You can choose one from each category, or just one category. It’s ok if it is just the prompt or the prompt and a brief idea. If you have a fun idea or prompt not listed, please share!

Rules: I only write SFW. I typically write for clones; I reserve the right to refuse requests which make me uncomfortable for whatever reason. I have had a few requests in the past that really unsettled me for various reasons. Or if I don't know the character. I'd hate to try to write something then upset the person because it is so ooc that it's cringy. (But if I said I would write your request and haven't yet, I just honestly haven't gotten to it :D I like to do well on the stories you guys entrust to me so it does take me a bit :D)

This is supposed to be fun so lets keep it fun!

You may submit as many requests as you'd like! The more the merrier!

Characters: Star Wars Clone Wars or The Bad Batch (as long as I know them. I know a lot of clones but alas, not all.)

Story genre:

Classic SW! (Pick an era if they exist in more than one if you wish)

AU of choice (modern, western, pirate, mermaid, time traveling, etc if I’m unfamiliar with the genre, I may have to change it or request more details)

Dialogue Prompts:

“Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

“If we’re going to do this we’ll need—“ “A plan?” “No! Code names! Cool ones!”

“I don’t need to be anything to you. I just want my life to mean more to you than my death.”

“You are playing a dangerous game without even a glimpse of the rule book.”

“I’ve never been terrified of death, til he set his sights on you.”

“What the hell are you doing here?” “Yeah, you’re not allowed to ask that in this situation.”

“Where’s your shoe?” “The giant mud puddle in the road demanded a sacrifice.”

“Love at first sight doesn’t exist.” “Then how else do I describe the feeling I got when I first saw you?” “You…love me?” “Apparently not, according to you.”

“A fate worse than death….” “They’re burnt cupcakes.”

“White paint has more color than your face.”

“Why is there a dragon in my fridge?” “It was hot.”

“Touch **, and you’re dead.”

“I am the law.”

“Do that again and I’ll throw you out the window. Wait, what are you doing?” “Checking how high the drop is; seeing if it’s worth it.”

“I’d rather have you hate me than loose you entirely.”

“I have a mission but don’t know what it is.” “Well that sounds incredibly counterproductive.”

“I would like to join you in acknowledging the difficulties in your life.” “You are the worst at this comforting thing.”

“I don’t know if you’re aware of this but I’m quite petite.” “Really? I had no idea in our twelve years of friendship that you’re shorter than I am.”

“But what is power?” “Loyalty.”

“Don’t you sign to me in that tone.”

“I’m with him/her for better or worse.” “It’ll probably be worse.” “I knew that the day I met him/her.”

"I'm sorry I tried to kill you." "It's fine, but next time you should try harder."

"C'mon, like I need an excuse to spend time with you."

"You're not as bad as everyone says you are."

"The only one who gets to kill you is me."

“blood loss”? well it’s not lost. I know exactly where it went. right over there.”

“How the mighty have fallen!” “It’s a dropped chocolate bar, stop being dramatic.”

“Shit, we’re gonna die” “Now I don’t want to hear that negative attitude, look on the bright side!” “Yay! We’re gonna die! Woo!”

“How do you do it?” “How do I do what?” “Pretend you are ok.” “I’m not pretending.” “Yes, you are. Every single day and it breaks my heart.”

“Hey, so I know things are pretty f**** shitty right now but I need you to breathe for me.” “Wha-wh-wh-” “You’re having a panic attack. It’s gonna be ok. Just breathe with me.”

“Please, my arms—I can’t wipe my tears, don’t let them see!”

"Smiles are contagious!" "Don't worry, I'm vaccinated."

"I don't want to get involved, it's too risky." "Please do it for me, you're the only one I can turn to." "It's not worth it. You really want to lose everything? 'cause I don't."

"Do you ever think of anyone other than yourself?" "No"---a long pause---"actually yes, at Christmas time"

"There is a reason I go through that door first, It's to make sure everyone else walks back out"

“I can’t leave you here!” “You can and you will.”

"OH! Are you alright? Are you alright?" "Apart from being trapped under here, and maybe suffering from broken bones and embarrassment beyond what I am capable of handling. . . I'm dandy, why do you ask?"

Oh no, are you alright? You're covered in blood!" "Yes, it's yours, Now will you please let me take you to the hospital?"

"What did love ever do anything for anyone anyway?"

"What the hell were you even thinking?!" "You told me not to think!"

"With love comes loss, that's part of the deal. Sometimes it hurts, but in the end, it was all worth it. There's no greater gift than love."

“'Temporary stitches' all stitches are temporary if you have a pair of scissors and aren’t a coward" "What do you....that better not mean what I think you mean......" "Am I just talking about sewing stitches or sutures too? Maaayyybe?" "NO! Absolutely not!"

"I made the calculations, and boy am I bad at math."

"It'll be over soon, I promise."

"Working together again, just like old times." "Well, not just like old times."

"I am many things but not your enemy."

Action Prompts:

Forehead kisses

Palm/hand kisses

Dramatic rain scene

Touching foreheads

Jealousy

Dancing

Last stand

Christmas/Life Day celebration

mistletoe

Accidental hand touch

First date

First kiss

Spending time with the family

Bad day cheering up scheme

Pranks

Going to a pet shop

Going to the movies

Always go after the girl

soft spoken person has loud, unnerving scream.

Lullabies

Nightmares

injury

amnesia

pretend/mistaken to be married/in a relationship

cooking

[adragonsfriend]

Purple Lightsabers: a new* interpretation

*It's possible this has been proposed before, but if it has, I haven't seen it.

Getting too deep into color symbolism of lightsabers isn't my favorite thing, because it often devolves into "wow look at my OC's rainbow lightsaber," (meanwhile said OC is straight for some reason…) but sometimes I have a thought about it that really gets me. This is one of those:

A common interpretation of purple lightsabers is that they symbolize a balance of the good and evil sides of the force, based on the fact that purple is a mix of blue and red, but as many discussions of gray/dim jedi have established, the idea of using both the evil-side of the force and the good-side is stupid and contradictory to the themes of Star Wars.

I propose that the purple of purple lightsabers are not a mix of blue and red, but a mix of blue and pink.

Thematically,

Blue lightsabers supposedly indicate a Jedi who is focused on saberwork and strong in using force abilities,

While (the first result on google says), "the color pink is often associated with qualities such as compassion, love, inner strength, and nonviolence, all of which are embodied in characters wielding pink lightsabers."

I am guessing that's a Legends or High Republic lore because they tend to get more into lightsaber colors than any other material, but I'm willing to take it and run.

Doesn't that combination sound like the perfect description of Mace Windu? Like yes he's focused on saber work--he created an entire lightsaber form about it, and he's probably the best duelist in the Order--but it's all in spirit of and service of compassion, protection, and fierce love. Vaapd is a form that requires immense inner strength as well.

It's a combination that is very much about what can physically be done to help people.

Color Mixing,

From a sheer color theory point of view, you cannot get this bright a shade of purple from mixing blue and red--you can get vibrant darker shades that way, but to go lighter you have to add white, and that dulls down the color really quickly:

If you mix blue and magenta on the other hand, it stays much brighter even when you add white:

Now tell me which of those better resembles this:

And before anyone comes at me with the children's hospital thing, yes, I'm aware that it's a very reasonable first assumption for purple to be a mix of red and blue--that is the over simplified to the point of inaccuracy factoid we are taught in schools (in reality, there is a reason it takes most languages a long time to develop a separate word for purple, and it's at least partly because solid clumps of bright purple are actually pretty damn uncommon in nature. Most bright purple dyes are artificial).

In conclusion,

A blue-pink purple works better than a blue-red purple thematically, visually, and socially as well. Going with this interpretation cuts out any need for the idea of Mace and Vaapad actually drawing on the evil-side of the force and the implication of him being somehow related to the Sith. It allows the narrative to focus on the idea of him as a protector rather than the vaguely racist idea that he has inherently more underlying anger than other Jedi.

[casp1an-sea]

Cassander “Cas” Armyn My Spidersona

(the second one is what Ey looks like in Eir universe. Scroll all the way down to see more outfits and character designs)

Age: 18

Gender: Transmasc

Height: 5’1.75”

Pronouns: He/Him/Ey/Em

—————————————————————————

none of these are completely 100% accurate to how I view them in my head because I am always changing his character and universe

———————————————————————— Universe: 131313

best described as an abstract art piece that is alive. Gravity shifts changing up to down and down to up. like in the art piece “Relativity”. It’s almost like a normal city, but the gravity shifts cause it to look like skyscrapers are jutting out at random angles, or even just floating in the sky. (kind of think mirror dimension from Doctor Strange) color, ships and changes as if it’s a separate being creating, a black-and-white inky world with the floating colored shapes. some are small while some are big covering home buildings but they never stay in one place or stay the same shape or size for long. The color of this universe is almost alive. (Similar to the color in “Sith” the first episode of season, two of Star Wars visions) for example, touching an object, would push the color of the object away as the color of your hand displaces it. The color that comes off with your hand when you touch things is unique to every person. And it seems like it has a mind of its own, making constantly shifting works of art around you. Technology is about the same as our universe but the animals and foliage is otherworldly and everything has a painterly feel and the “line art” is always sketchy and smudgy similar to my own. The grass is purple and liquids float.

Canon Events:

Spider bite

Close person death

Commander death

—————————————————————————

Extra:

Has been Spider-Man for roughly 4 years, in the Spider Society for 2

Movement signature: Uses alot of elements of acrobatics and gymnastics so tends to do complex jumps and flips. Enjoys falling as long as possible before catching Emself.

Goes by both his first and last name

Flaps hands when nervous or excited

Has Eczema and psoriasis

His color is bright orange 

Produces web naturally so doesn’t need web shooters but in order to continually produce silk he does eat it

Has fangs but has no clue what they do as he has no desire to bite anything 

Can see extremely long distances and also see in UV color spectrum 

Carries a spiky shield on his back resembling a yellow kite spider (can also use it as a weapon by attaching a web to it so he can throw it and pull it back) (I swear I made this up before I got obsessed with Captain America)

Shoulder panels lift up on the suit and can shoot out small needles, inspired by the tarantula; they act similar to whistling birds from Star Wars, however they just knock people out rather than exploding

Suit is decorated in paint markings to resemble real life spiders; like most art in the universe they shift and change

Has heat receptors over the eyes on the suit

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Backstory: In Cassander’s  universe Alchemax was a company that closed down years ago. Casander grew up with his parents and younger sister in brooklyn. They always had a strained relationship. When Cassander way 15 Ey moved into Peter Parker’s house where he was living with his aunt and uncle so that he could attend Peter’s school. Cassander was best friends with Peter and later Harry Osborn. Peter was often bullied at school and wanted nothing more than to be popular. He used his friendship with Harry as an In to the popular kid cliche but they really only ever teased him and Cassander often had to deal with the aftermath. Cassander never hung around Harry at school much because Harry was still friends with the popular kids like Ned Leeds and Flash Thompson. While Harry did try to get his popular friends not to pick on Peter they often gave him too much slack which is something he and Cassander argued over a lot. One day the  popular kids told Peter that if he wanted to join their click he had to do an initiation ceremony. He had to stay the night in the abandoned alchemex building. Cassander tried to tell Peter that this was just to make him look stupid and asked him not to do it because it was dangerous but  Peter refused. Cassander tried to get a hold of Harry but he wouldn’t answer so instead Cassander decided that he had to go in as well and make sure Peter stayed safe. That was the night Cassander was bitten after brushing the spider off of peter. They also stumbled upon a laboratory Norman Osborn had been using to make the green goblin serum, but saw nothing because of green fog that filled the room. Peter got cut on some glass So Cassander talked him into leaving. When they exited Harry had arrived. The next day Cassander discovered Eir spider abilities. That night Cassander snuck out and decided to return To Alchemax alone to try and find the spider. Instead He had his first encounter with a Green goblin. Cassander decided he would forget about his powers and try to live normally. Harry stopped hanging out with Ned and him and Cassander got together. The next Peter looked a little strange and was acting weird.  Throughout the week peter began to act stranger and stranger. Finally one night Cassander realized he was acting like a green goblin and assumed the cut had become infected. Cassander revealed this to Peter, revealing Eir spider powers in the process. Peter wanted to return to Alchemax but Cassander said no. The next day Harry asked Cassander to go out and eat dinner with his Dad (Norman aka green goblin). Harry ended up running out of that dinner cause his dad is a bitch. Little did Cassander know he was going to Alchemax because he had stayed after Cassander and petter had left the other night and discovered his dads lab. Norman asked Cassander to stay in the desert. He reluctantly agreed but things got tense and. Norman started acting strange, violent even, Cassandee ran away in fear accidentally stumbling upon Norman’s green goblin mask. He rushed home to tell Peter but when he got home Peter wasn’t there Cassander knew that he  had gone back to Alchemax. It was too late he had been killed by green goblin, Who Cas did not know was not Norman this time but Harry. Peter's death inspired Cassander to become Spider-Man. As spider man he often worked alongside police captain Gwen Stacy until she was ultimately killed when Cassander couldn’t save her. Norman Osborn as green goblin accidentally killed himself in a fight with spider-man who hid Norman was green goblin for Harry’s sake. Harry believed spiderman had killed him. infected by the goblin serum became mad hunting down spider man. The two ultimately found out each other's identities and it was revealed that Harry killed Peter not Norman. They’re relationship is on an indefinite break, but they haven’t technically broken up, it’s complicated. —————————————————————————

Other Cassander Outfits, I was too lazy to edit the pajamas

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Harold “Harry” Osborn “Green Goblin”

Unlabeled gender, He/They

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Peter Parker

Male He/Him

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DR. Chuwi Quispe Mamani

(This universe’s Dr. Strange)

Agender They/Them

————————————————————Aaron Davis

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@xen-blank, @thehollowwriter, @l7k-a, @ferris-the-wheel, @keii-starz

@krenenbaker @elenauaurs @the-banana-0verlord @edith-is-a-cat @dove-da-birb

@theosb0rnway @fizzydreamz @ravenwing0110

@diabollicallyangelic @xentari94 @tomatette

@dragonflies-draw-flame @sunshinechildskywalker @silly-little-goober-core

[lazinesswrites]

Since it's Star Wars day: Headcanon time!

I've seen a lot of people talk about how Hunter's enhanced senses sometimes give him migraines/sensory overload, and I am 100% with you all on that. But. Hear me out. Crosshair has a similar problem.

So, okay, this is getting longer and a bit more ramble-y than I meant for it to be, but bear with me.

I'm... a little unclear on what Crosshair's enhancement actually is. In s01e01 Tech just calls it "Crosshair's sharpshooting skills", and I haven't reached the part of Clone Wars where the Batch is introduced yet, but from what I've read/seen on tumblr, Hunter introduces Crosshair as someone who's 'not much of a conversationalist' but who can 'hit a precise target from 10 klicks' (as I remember it). My understanding is that, if Crosshair can see it, and it's within range of whatever weapon he's got at the moment, he can hit it.

But how?

The general consensus seems to be that Crosshair has enhanced vision: He can see further, sharper, more than others (I do have some questions about that, actually; some of them more serious than others. For example: Does he need reading glasses? Can he see shrimp colors? But that's another post.).

But here's the thing, though: Being able to see something isn't enough to be able to hit it. So this is where this post reaches headcanon territory: Crosshair is incredibly smart. Maybe on level with Tech, just in a different way. All those split-second calculations for distance, angle, wind, movement (direction and speed, of both himself and his target), gravity (which varies! depending on the planet/moon/whatever!), and probably a bunch of other things I haven't thought about? Yeah. Our boy is smart, okay. Maybe it's more instinctive, where Tech is more, well, technical, but. Anyway.

So that's one headcanon/Thought, which leads into the next: Crosshair is processing A LOT of information at once, all the time. We all are, when we move about in the world, or even just exist in the world - more than we realize. But I think Crosshair probably processes even more than almost everyone else, at least of visual input. Same way Hunter is constantly processing everything he takes in from his enhanced senses. It's maybe easier for Crosshair to deal with an oncoming migraine or whatever, if all he needs is to... close his eyes for a while, or go somewhere with less visual stimuli (the halls on Kamino must have been Hell). But that's just not always an option: When on missions, during training, hell, even just getting a damn meal in the mess hall with the bright lights and all the other clones.

Which leads me to the third (and final, for tonight) thought: It's probably part of the reason Cross doesn't talk much. There's more to it, most likely. Some people just don't talk much, for no particular reason other than that's who they are. But part of it is probably also that his job is to see things; to hang back a little and observe, and strike with deathly precision when the situation calls for it. But also... You know how sometimes it can be a little difficult to pay attention to a conversation while the TV is on? Or how you can't always read while the people are talking on the radio? Or how you can more or less follow along with several conversations in the room at once, but the second you have to take part in one of them, you can't pay attention to the rest? I figure it's a little like that for Crosshair. He sees so much all the time, and sometimes (often) he has to choose between talking or processing what he's seeing. And on a mission, processing less of what he's seeing might mean missing a danger to his squad, so then it's a necessity. When not on a mission, well. With the read I've gotten on his character from what I've seen so far... probably he just doesn't find most people outside his squad worth the energy.

[ineedmorevat7kinmylife]

Okay so I watched Empire Strikes Back tonight, and like, how have I never seen any Varigo as Han Solo and Leia? Like they’re perfect.

Anyway, this triggered a “what if I wrote a whole fic about this and put all the characters from tts and vat7k into Star Wars?”

So here is who I’d think be who. Keep in mind, my Star Wars knowledge is limited to mainly just the original trilogy, and even then isn’t much.

Varian - Leia So, basically instead of Varian being a princess or prince of whatever planet Leia is from, he would be a royal scientist who was naturally good at the force and just didn’t know it yet.

Eugene - Luke Luke and Leia would be cousins in this, Eugene being the son of Darth Vader, and Varian being Vader’s nephew. Eugene, after being born, gets taken to an orphanage on Tatooine, where Ben watches him and makes sure he’s not evil. Hugo - Han Solo Hugo would still work for Donella, he would be more of a bounty hunter than he is in the movies. He has his own ship, but Don gives him assignments. Olivia - Chewbacca/Millennium Falcon Chewy: so I’m imagining like a big robot that Hugo built, she could’ve worked as R-2, but Chewbacca is always with Han, so it just made more sense. In this Olivia would be used less for sneakiness and more for brute strength, because Hugo needs that more Millennium Falcon: Olivia is an AI in the ship, Chewy is just Chewy Donella - No one! She doesn’t really fit with anyone, or maybe she does and I just don’t remember them. So here she’s kind of just inserted Qurin - Leia’s dad Seeing as we never see Leia’s adopted father, we don’t know much about him, just that he was an old Jedi master. (I think. I’m getting most of my info from my dad, so let me know if I’m wrong) But he presumably dies when her planet blows up, so that’s what happens to Qurin here! Sorry! Edmund - Darth Vader So, since Eugene is Luke, Edmund had to be Darth Vader, and the more I think about it, the more I like it. Especially because of Dark kingdom/Dark side. Sorry to Edmund fans, (not sure how many there are) but I can personally totally see him being evil if the Dark kingdom was just a bit more evil. Rapunzel - Jedi leader Not an actual character that I know of, she’s just one of the generals or whatever for the Jedi. Lance - Lando Calrissian Because it just works okay. Especially for Lance’s first appearance in the show, when he was kind-of reformed, but not really, then later becomes better. It just works. Also I like the idea of Lance and Hugo knowing each other before hand. Eugene and Hugo did, it’s not too much of a stretch to say Lance did too. Baron - Jaba the hut I have nothing else for this, it’s self explanatory. The Force: So we’re going more moonstone with this. Those who can connect to the moonstone are Jedi, and they can use its magic. Usually trained from a very young age. If you’re a Jedi you get a fun hair color (it matches your lightsaber), and makes it very hard to blend in. This is mainly cause I like the Varian’s hair stripe means he’s got some moon magic in him theory. Dark side: Dark kingdom wants to protect the world from the moonstone, they think it’s dangerous. Darth Vader rose to power despite being connected to the moonstone and using the force, he claims he can use it without being connected, but he can’t. The reason he wears the mask isn’t because he’s terribly disfigured, cause that’s a little bit of bad messaging, it’s so he hides his bright red, glows-when he-force-chokes-someone hair. And cause he thinks it looks cool. I didn’t want to make Adira and Hector evil, so I just didn’t include them, let me know if you think of a way they work. If I do end up writing this, it will take a long time, feel free to use the ideas for your own fic, especially if you know more about Star Wars than I do, just let me know and please credit me. :)

[leohtttbriar]

the snow-melted and it's sunny and it's spring and that makes me feel some type of way so here's a kiradax springtime fic featuring the fascinations of a nature-walk and jadzia dax as a sort of ms. frizzle:

On a bright day like this, Kira was happy to be handing out juice boxes.

Sure, she would’ve preferred to have been part of Keiko’s field-trip party, with the older students on a rock-climbing mission to observe cliff-side fungus. But Keiko had been a little too bright-faced and excited as she tucked her climbing shoes into her backpack and gathered all the older kids together for a lesson in knot-tying and rappelling, and, almost immediately, Miles had begged Kira to swap chaperone positions so he could trail after his wife pretending to be worried about the cliffs on which she was leading an educational expedition but really interested in just documenting ‘the moment,’ as he called it.

“When Molly starts to be embarrassed of us,” he said, turning on his camera and smirking as Keiko demonstrated a very long finger-hold on a nearby boulder, the strained muscles in her forearms and shoulders not even appearing to shake. “I want evidence that we’re actually cool.”

“Well, one of you is,” said Kira. “You mostly play games with Julian in your free-time.”

Miles shot her a dirty look but then Keiko was calling her group to start on the hike and he was scampering after her.

So Kira was left with the younger kids on a much less dangerous nature walk that didn’t involve rock-climbing. But she was happy about it. The day was bright, crisp air with warm sun, and she didn’t have to do much more than make sure the little ones stayed on the path and hand out juice boxes. And, really, they were all too mesmerized by Jadzia to misbehave or wonder off.

Kira couldn’t exactly blame them, though. Jadzia had turned up in a shirt covered in colorful scientific illustrations of various Bajoran insects, a giant hair clip that looked like one of the stone-caterpillars that Kira used to make into a stew in her hungriest moments during the war, and a box of tiny, kid-sized binoculars which she handed to each student with all the sincerity and solemnity of a general handing out medals of honor to soldiers. She oo’d an ah’d over every little thing and all the kids were following after her like she was personally responsible for putting a flower in their path to look at.

“Oh, look at that!” gasped Jadzia, pointing up at what looked to be a normal tree limb with such drama that every single kid was gasping with her despite, Kira assumed, not knowing what it is they were gasping at. They gathered around Jadzia, following to where her finger pointed, their little mouths open in awe.

“What?” asked one of the more impatient kids. “I don’t see anything.”

“It’s an aerial succulent,” said Jadzia, bending down. “See, between the stalks, there's a film which will expand and catch on a breeze if the plant needs to move.”

“Like wings?” asked another kid, taking rigorous notes in her notebook (Kira was able to read she had just added plant flying color green pretty in uneven block letters).

“Yes! Exactly like wings!” said Jadzia, as if this comparison had just occurred to her.

“Wow.”

Jadzia had them all draw a picture of the succulent, a star shaped thing with a sparkly veil between each point, tipping this way and that on the tree branch but yet holding steady. Kira attempted a drawing herself, as Jadzia had made sure to provide her with a “field notebook” and binoculars, along with the kids. It was not a good drawing, but Kira liked it. After, they continued shuffling along the path and Kira helped a couple kids not to trip on their feet as they traversed forward, binoculars glued to their eyes.

When Keiko had suggested a field trip, Kira had not expected to be asked to help. But it seemed Sisko was of the opinion that she needed “a break,” or something like that. And so he had volunteered much of his chief staff to help out with the trip to Bajor and even extending the offer of the supervised field trip to some of the schools that would be nearby their educational expedition. As the morning progressed, Kira couldn’t help but be thankful for it. There were worse ways to spend a day. And Jadzia had been very happy when Kira had turned up, which always made Kira feel warm in more ways than one. She might've switched assignments, anyway, if Miles hadn't asked.

Eventually they ended up by a stream and Jadzia instructed everyone to be on the lookout for fossils.

“I know there are fossils,” she whispered triumphantly to Kira, once the kids were darting back and forth on the bank like the intrepid explorers they were. “I scouted the trail—this watershed area is almost nothing but limestone.”

Kira bent down to examine the earth herself, picking up an angular yet smooth-cornered rock and rolling it around in her palm.

“Limestone has more fossils in it?” she asked.

Jadzia plopped down next to her. “Yep,” she said. She reached over and gently guided Kira’s fingers to hold the rock so the angle was pointed up. Then she poured a splash of water on it, smoothed away some dirt, and pointed to an imprint in the stone. “See?” she said. “A shell.”

“Oh,” said Kira, looking closer at the strangely patterned whirl. It looked like the aerial succulent.

“Limestone is a graveyard, for organic life,” said Jadzia, halfway to soft but still cheerful. “It’s got a bit of a sacred history on Trill, but I never bought into all those sad poems. Trills only seem to know how to write sad poems”—she rolled her eyes, and Kira bit the inside of her cheek to contain her grin—“and I just don’t think fossils are things to be sad about anyway. True, this”—she indicated the rock in Kira’s hand by cupping Kira’s knuckles and pushing gently against them, causing Kira to, embarrassingly, blush—“is made of the compressed bodies of ancient marine life, but it’s not as if they’re gone. There they are.”

Kira turned her gaze away from Jadzia’s open face and back to the dirty rock in her palm. She didn’t like to think of it as a graveyard. Death was a strange, conceptual thing for Bajorans—as all things are and have been and will be all at once, so eternal ending is just one edge of infinite reality, which has many edges stretching on and on.

“It’s just evidence that they were,” she found herself saying. “But they also are. Just—are.”

Jadzia tipped her head, her eyebrows pinched together. “This might be one of those temporal perspectives I don’t get,” she said.

Kira smiled. “I mean,” she said. “In some way, this…shell?”

“Crinoid.”

“This crinoid,” said Kira, still biting back a grin. “Is swimming around now. In the sea.”

Jadzia looked at her, eyes sparkling. “Okay,” she said. “Then limestone isn’t a graveyard at all.” She picked the rock up out of Kira’s hand and placed back on the ground but replaced its weight with her own palm. “Everything just adds and adds, in every direction.”

Kira’s smile couldn’t be stopped. She curled her fingers around Jadzia’s wrist. “Yes,” she said, leaning in close, tracing the line of sun lighting up the dark hollows on Jadzia’s face and the soft hairs on her jaw.

Jadzia tilted her chin down, their noses now millimeters apart. The sound of the stream and the sound of her breath on Kira’s mouth washed over her. “Nerys—” she said, voice sweet.

Then, “Da-ax!”

They leaned away from each other quickly.

“Yeah?” called back Jadzia, wiping her twitchy hands on her shorts.

“I fell in!” said one of the kids while all the others laughed.

Kira snorted. Jadzia pressed her palm against Kira’s once more before launching to her feet.

“Duty calls,” she said, dramatically. “Remember me fondly.”

She walked off, already lecturing all the kids about the joys of an impromptu swim and the subsequent chance to dry off in the sun, and soon Kira was being bombarded by tired students in search of snacks.

She slipped the rock in her backpack, when no one was looking. An eternal touch of a swimming creature and the warmth of Jadzia's hand--everything just added on. It was a bright day.