#the colors would be so fun to pick out for them

[lazulisocinfodump]

I love making ocs! I’m going to ramble about it!

Well, what drives the creation of an OC for me is: What is the Story I want to tell? Characters of all kinds are ultimately vehicles through which a story is told. Now I’m not saying you have to know *exactly* what story you want to tell. All you need is a vague idea and a direction. Then think of what personality traits in a person would cause them to act the way you hope the story will go. And their Role in said story.

Second thing I like to think of is ✨Vibes✨. That is to say, what sort of feelings do you want this character to evoke, in yourself, in readers and in other characters? Thinking about this can help you figure out both personality traits and design ideas for their physical appearance.

What I also helps me a lot when creating ocs is listening to music. Helps you with finding a characters  ✨Vibes✨. Also what I like to do, when purely looking for ideas on the physical appearance of a character, is to open something like an ms paint doc and google search images related to the sort of character I want to create, and copy-paste the ones I like. For example, if I wanted to create a ballerina character I’d look up pics of ballerinas. You can narrow this further. For example, I could be wanting a cartoon ballerina with swan aspects. So I’d look up picks of cartoon ballarinas, cartoon swans, etc. Other people do stuff like pinterest boards. You can’t copy other peoples ideas wholesale, but artists take bits and pieces of other people’s ideas all the time.

Also I personally really like going into symbolism. With stuff like names, color’s, design choices etc. Is your character associated with an animal? A gemstone? A mythological creature? A planet? Are they a meek follower like a sheep? Are they cold and stoic, like ice? Are they wrathful, like we associate with Red?

All else fails, take 3 or more characters you like and mash them together into one character and see what you end up with. Or just make a self-insert. You know yourself to at least some degree, after all.

Actually I’d highly recommend making lots of self inserts for different fandoms, it teaches you a lot about making characters, thinking about how your characters interact in different situations and with other characters, and it’s a lot of fun.

Anyone got tips in oc making?

[multiheadcanons]

TF2 MERCS RELAXING

scout: if scout has an actual day of relaxation, he will end up asleep within 30 minutes of him realizing he can relax today. for those 30 minutes, however, he is an absolute terror. and whoever is his victim for the next 30 minutes will be fielding some of the most irrelevant, obvious, outlandish, generally some combination of those terms, questions. and he does not shut up. for 30 minutes you’re fielding questions well outside of your knowledge, and as he starts to make fun of you for not knowing, a small yawn escapes. and it’s the beginning of the end. all of a sudden, he’s checking out the bed. the couch. an assortment of chairs in a precarious line. the floor if there’s a good enough rug. starts patting the area. lays down. “i mean it’s not even that comfortable, it’s enough to sit on but i couldn’t fall asleep—” and the next thing you know all you hear is a soft snore. the team leaves him wherever he crashes. if he falls asleep on a line of chairs they play what they call scout jenga, where they see how many chairs they can pull from underneath him before he falls off. once he wakes up from his nap, he is generally more able to go do a quiet activity alone. likes his comics. will generally fall back asleep in bed in a couple hours. only seen during mealtimes.

soldier: soldier doesn’t relax, per se. to find him in a conventional state of relaxation is during mealtimes and his nighttime routine. that’s really the only time he is “relaxing” in the sense you’d expect him to be relaxing. otherwise, training is relaxing. pushing his body to the limit is relaxing. making the trek from the infirmary to training is relaxing. firing his rocket launcher is relaxing. if you held a gun to his head, he might read a book or two. nothing overly complex. probably war journals. maybe catch some rest if he has nothing else to do. him and scout together is engie’s nightmare. stupid questions asked in cut time with doubled duration. he’ll kick them both out if they can’t be quiet.

pyro: depending on the weather they’ll spend some time outside! normally takes walks. likes to pick the flowers they find to give to the team. maintains their flamethrower in worse weather. they have various ways they keep themselves entertained during down time, but they aren’t quite sure whether that counts as relaxing. one of the few people engie lets hang out in the workshop because they’ll actually sit there in silence. engie got them some coloring books for when they’re down there. keeps them occupied until they’re hungry or tired and ready to go back to their room. sometimes they can even convince engie to take a short nap too.

demo: lovingly cares for his bombs. overlooks his notes on them. ponders if he can improve them. normally gives up and gets a drink. comes back, continues to think and ponder over them. sometimes medic will ask if he would be willing to get on the operating table for the day, which is fine for him. they’ll make idle chatter until they run out of things to talk about, then he just lays there. likes to take off days to make various jerky. he’ll give them to the team to test it. scout is always incredibly pumped for whatever kitchen experiments demo’s cooking up.

heavy: when he’s not caring for sascha, or natascha, or the tomislav, or his shotgun, or with his doctor on the operating table, he likes to read. generally located in an easily accessible common area so if anyone needs him he’s right there. can get anywhere in the base in about a minute. he’s normally quietly hoping everyone will leave him alone for his down time, but he never refuses a teammate who wants to come sit with him… quietly. likes to go to gun shows. will take old man naps on the couch in the common area. the team can tell where heavy is based on his snoring. his naps do not affect his ability to go to sleep at night. if anything, he feels even better the next day after a full day’s rest. greatly enjoys sunbathing. he’s not a big enjoyer of the warmer weather, but on a nice brisk day, with a clear sky, if he can find a place out of the wind chill, he’ll just relax on a chair, sunglasses on, reading or resting quietly.

engineer: engie doesn’t relax. engie is a blue collar working man with too many things to do; he doesn’t relax. not to mention, because he’s one of the few teammates who consistently has a full plate, the teammates who don’t have consistently full plates come down to his workshop to ask him some of the most baffling (derogatory) questions he’s ever heard. but when he gets some down time… it’s beer time bud. he’s laid back, bottle in hand. generally thinking about all the work he has left to do while he sits on his ass. planning how to most efficiently manage the rest of his day. will go outside to stretch his legs if the weather’s nice. if pyro is particularly in need of companionship, he’ll spend the day with them.

medic: medic also doesn’t relax. he’s one of the other mercenaries who have a consistently full plate. the difference is when scout and soldier go ask him stupid questions he becomes interested in answering them. sometimes the results are favorable, normally they are not. and it’s too cold for pyro to hang out down there. so if he’s not doing paperwork, one of the worst parts of his job, or performing a surgery in the infirmary, or fiddling with his medigun, he is with his birds. tending to them, making sure they’re in good health. he enjoys sitting with them as he reads, which normally becomes a light nap. they’re his babies. paints their talons.

sniper: if sniper is not asleep in his van, or on grill guard, then sniper is just not on the base. generally nowhere to be found on the base. he is either out completing errands for the base, “out completing errands… for the base”, or he’s out on a drive, enjoying the wind and the sky through his windows. it’s hard to get a hold of him when he’s gone but somehow he always has a sense for when he’s needed at the base, and is always there just in time. sometimes he’s walking in to the team preparing for dinner, and he’s a little heartwarmed. sometimes he’s walking in to absolute chaos. really depends on how the team feels. either way, he’s prepared for it.

spy: will spend all day in his smoking room. sometimes he’ll come out and interact with the team, or slip out just long enough to cook something and be out of the kitchen by the time the smell of cooked food starts to linger, or he’ll sit with engie in his workshop, but usually he’s watching sniper. there was a time he snuck into the van to see where sniper spends all his free time. he was not happy to find out it’s normally the grocery store and a trip to the payphone. he almost feels like sniper knew he was there, and he did that on purpose (he did know, and he did do that on purpose).

[injestedsoap]

Taking The 141 to Build A Bear

Gaz was actually the one who planned it, there was a new wave of characters coming out and he had kept an eye on your local store to make sure they would have the ones you both wanted. He does his best to play it cool when the two of you arrive but you can tell he's just as excited as you, rushing over to pick out his character. Gaz is also all in on the heart ceremony but the employee can tell you're, you know, adults, so she doesn't have you do anything too crazy (i.e. jumping or spinning). As far as clothes go you better believe he is spoiling your plushie as much as he is spoiling you, pick any outfit and accessory you want, baby, on him! Of course you're getting the cardboard houses to carry them out in and you're getting snacks at whatever coffee or juice bar is closest to the workshop afterward.

The funny thing is with Soap neither of you actually planned it. You had gone out shopping for something else and just noticed there was a Build A Bear near by and when you mentioned wanting to go Soap was all in. Soap grew up in a good family but not a well off one so BAB wasn't something he ever did. This isn't exactly healing an inner child for him but oh boy does his inner child come out for this to the point where you are almost having more fun watching him light up doing all of this than making the plushie. The heart ceremony has jumping, spinning, the works and when it's time for him to dress his plushie he makes sure you both have a few outfit specifically so you can get matching outfits and individual ones.

You are the one who asks Price to go and he'll never deny you something this bloody adorable. He keeps insisting he isn't going to get anything but when the two of you get there... well... you didn't tell him they had Pokemon. He ends up grinning ear to ear as he gets his plushie stuffed. He doesn't get any clothes for his (Pokemon don't need clothes, love) but he is more than happy to get an outfit for your plushie. He is grinning enormously when he gets to fill out the birth certificate and you see him almost jump when they give him a Pokemon card along with his new friend.

Taking Ghost to Build A Bear is a long elaborate secret plan that you have been working on for at least a month. You are positive this is going to be good for him because if anyone needs a relaxed activity that encourages play it is your big British boy. When you finally steer him through the colorful doorway you watch him tense and then start to melt under your hands as you pull him over so you can pick a plushie, and of course he has to pick one too, you can't do this alone! You watch him carefully pick a plushie, the texture is important, and you hold his hand as you get them stuffed. Ghost is shy for the heart ceremony but you can tell that he's having fun, rolling his eyes at you when you tell him to make a wish. He finds a simple outfit for his bear that he painstakingly dresses them in and your hear melts over how seriously he takes naming them ("It's their name, I want to make sure it fits"). By the time you leave you don't think you've ever had more fun at a Build A Bear.

[tulip-room]

elodea - o. tooru || wc:5.2k || tags: childhood friends to lovers, mermaid au, artist yn, muse oikawa, "pen pals" of sorts, touch starved, something keeps them apart, second chance,depression <//3, bad parental relationships, first time saying "I love you", 5 +1...sort of ! || hq works

i.

When she first meets the boy she’s unsure what to make of him, she knows he looks different than her, she asks where his legs are as they’re hidden under the water and he just laughs. It sounds like the sea breeze itself and refreshes her in a way she had yet to experience. “I don’t have those,” she sees a shine under the water and tilts her head. 

“Everyone has legs.”

“No they don’t.” To prove his point he swims closer to the dock she’s sitting on and flicks up what looks to be a tail. The scales shine decadently in the golden summer light, his skin is tanned and there’s an easy smile on his face. “I told you,” she leans down and her hands graze the water. He turns and the motion splashes her with water and she almost falls in. “I didn’t say you could touch it,” his small fingers are just curled over the edge of the wooden dock and his brown eyes stare into hers. 

“Sorry,” there’s a slight lisp as one of her front teeth has yet to grow in yet. “What’s your name?”

“Oikawa Tooru,” the water moves gently as she assumes his tail pushes it to keep him upright.

“I’m L/N Y/N,” she holds out her hand and he takes it. When he spreads his fingers she sees the webbing connecting the joints together, she turns his hand over and examines it in comparison with her own. Her mind doesn’t wrap around just what he is until the sun threatens to set over the horizon. They spend hours discussing everything their brains could think of from the color of the water to their favorite foods. “Will you be here tomorrow?” He nods and she hears the call of her grandmother from the top of the hill. 

“Will you be here tomorrow?” He tries to ask inconspicuously but fails as she catches on.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say you enjoyed hanging out with me today.”

“Well…it’s a good thing you know better then.” There’s smiles on both of their faces as her name gets called yet again. “You better get going, come back tomorrow.”

She almost can’t wait to wake up the next day but her grandma reminds her of the chores she has to do. She tries to rush through them, the dishes not dried and put away, mud prints on the tiled floor from when she ran out to feed the horses, her yellow rain boots squeaking as she runs around the townhouse. “Get back in her,” she hears sternly behind her just as she’s rushing out the door. There her grandma stands with his hands on her hips and a stern but soft look on her face. “And where are you off to this morning in such a rush? You have mud on your face,” she licks her thumb and wipes the dirt away much to Y/N’s protest. 

“Grandma, stop it!” She pushes her away and tries to wriggle free from her grasp. There’s a moment of laughter from both of them and with a kiss on her forehead her grandma lets her go. 

“Okay, go be a kid. Have fun, don’t pick up any snakes you find.” Her grandma warns teasingly before she runs off down the hill yellow rain boots squeaking the whole time.  When she makes it down to the dock she sees a familiar head of brown hair and the same shining tail as yesterday.

“What took you so long,” he turns around excitedly before trying to cover it by crossing his arms. “Not that I was waiting or anything.” He makes a point to close his eyes and turn his head away.

“Sorry Fishy, I had to do chores.” She sticks her tongue out at him as she lays down on the dock, it creaks under her movements and she looks up at the clouds. “Have you been waiting long?”

“No, I only got here a few minutes ago.” She hums in response and closes her eyes as she allows the sun to beam down on her. “Do you live here?”

“No, I’m only visiting for the summer.” There’s a strange pang in his chest at the words, he’s only known her for a day at most and he already knows he’s going to miss her presence. He shakes the thoughts away and pulls himself up so only his tail is left in the water and joins her laying down. She can hear the splashes of protest from the water and hear his breaths as he hoists himself up. “Do you live here?”

“Yeah, I live by where the lake meets the ocean.”

“That seems far,” if she remembers where he’s talking about.

“It’s not bad, maybe a five minute swim?” He questions himself and then they sit in silence. “Where do you go after the summer?”

“My mom got a new job so I have to go move in with her. I want to stay here though, it’s where all my friends are.”

“Oh, how far away?”

“Two hours,” she sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. He finds his head shifting to look at her, the light tracing her face and he wonders if her skin is as soft as it looks. 

“Oh, that’s really far.” There’s a somber tone for a few minutes before the children start pointing out clouds and what they look like. 

He knows the time is passing because her front tooth has started growing in and her lisp starts to go away. “Are you coming back?”

“Next summer,” she hums. It’s become routine for them to lay on the dock together. They pretend the time doesn’t pass as quickly as it does and live in their moment. Their moment of warm sunlight and frogs croaking in weeds, of the wind whistling through cattails, and of dragonflies buzzing and flying along the water’s edge. “Can I see you here next summer?”

“Of course.” They both know their weeks together are drawing to a close. Can feel it as the weather starts cooling down and their days get shorter. She goes to school to finish out the year but she always comes back to him when she gets back. By the final week of summer her tooth has grown in and her lisp has gone away. It gets chillier at night and he stops joining her on the dock. 

“I got you something,” she says as she rummages through her bag, post it notes and pencils fall out as she grabs hold of what she wants. It’s a necklace, there’s a plastic bag holding it in but it’s clear as to what it is. She pulls out the delicate chain and he can spot a seashell hanging from the chain. 

“I love it,” he answers and takes it from her hands before she can say another word. After he puts it on he holds up a hand. “I have something for you too, I’ll be back in ten minutes. Wait for me?”

“Always.” Her feet dangle over the edge but she’s careful not to let her shoes hit the water. Around ten minutes later an out of breath boy pops his head out of the water. He holds a bag in his hands and holds it out to her. She leans forward and grabs it, inside she finds a bracelet of sea gems and smiles. “Thank you,” she puts it on and admires how it twinkles in the light of the setting sun. 

ii.

It’s easy to tell they’ve both grown older when she visits again the next summer break. Her limbs have grown longer and his voice has gotten deeper. Their routine continues when she returns. They manage to make it halfway through the break before he stops showing up every day. She waits for him with her knees curled up to her chest and her chin resting on her knees. Her arms are wrapped around her legs and it’s almost time for her to go back in when she can see the faintest shimmer of what she hopes are scales. A smile grows when the shimmering gets closer and she can just make out a familiar head of brown hair. “What took you so long clamshell?”

“Sorry,” he tries to catch his breath and reaches into his seaweed bag. “I can’t always be here anymore.” He hands her the conch and the inside contrasts with the rough outside as she runs her hands over it. “Just blow into it and I’ll come as soon as I can.” She nods and he must hear something she can’t because she can see his face drop. “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay, go do what you need to do Tooru,” with one last solemn look towards her, his head ducks under the water and she watches as the shimmering scales grow farther and farther away from her. She continues to sit on the old dock for a few moments longer as she turns the shell in her hands. The air is hot and humid and sticks to her skin like glue, the dragonflies buzz as they graze the water lines and her mind wanders to last summer and what could have changed so suddenly. She stands up from the chipping dock and tredges her way back up the hill and into her grandma’s home. It’s cool inside and she can smell the beginnings of dinner being started. 

“Well, aren’t you back early.” It’s more of a statement than a question as her grandma throws her a glance from where she stands. “Where in the world did you manage to find a conch around here?”

“It was a gift,” she mumbles and sits down at the table. The cloth is a pale yellow with small embroidered flowers over it in small square designs. The shell clinks softly as the tablecloth acts as a buffer for the noise. 

“You don’t seem very happy about the gift,” she lays her head down in her arms and stares out the window. She tries not to think of the sea or the lake, it will make her think of him and the surprisingly large hole he’s left for her to fill without him. She feels a hand on her shoulder as a chair screeches against the wood. Her grandma sits down while the pot boils in the background. “What’s going on little love?”

“One of my friends that I was excited to see is too busy to hang out the rest of the break.” Her grandma chuckles lightly and she glares lightly. “What’s funny?”

“That’s part of growing up, it’s okay to not see them all the time. The person is still your friend and you still care about each other?” She nods her head at the question. “Then, nothing else matters. Get that frown off your face, little love and help me finish dinner.” The chair scoots against the wood and the table shifts its weight as her grandma uses it to help her stand. She follows close behind and they talk about school, how the garden is coming along, the horses, and everything they can think of. She’s missed this, the feeling of home and the sea breeze. 

Despite herself she goes back the next day, she waits and she waits and waits. The air turns chilly and the fireflies start coming out and she knows he’s not coming today. She pulls the bracelet off her wrist and finds herself becoming calmer as her thumb rubs over the gems, they’ve been smoothed out among the edges and she finds herself smiling. He’s not entirely gone, he’s still with her when she smells the salty air of the sea or feels the wood beneath her. This is their spot and that doesn’t change just because one of them isn’t there. She rushes back up to the house and digs through all kinds of drawers, she knows she’s making a racket but her grandma doesn’t say anything to her. She just holds a fond look in her eyes as she watches her write a short letter and take a piece of geode with her. 

The geode wasn’t very old, at least in her possession, only having it for a few months after a class trip to learn about the different kinds of rocks. Her rain boots are tighter this year than they were the year prior but they still squeak as she runs down the grassed hill of her grandma’s backyard and towards the dock, their spot. She folds the paper and sets the geode on top, with a hopeful look towards the horizon she heads back up the hill and disappears into the comforting home of her grandma. She’ll have her summer memories forever, she’ll remember the air sticking to her skin and the boy with chocolate hair that she met on a dodgy dock. She’ll remember the sea breeze and her grandma’s cooking. She’ll remember the joy she feels when she’s here even long after she’s left. 

iii.

She gets used to the walls of her school, makes friends among the people in her classes. Tries to forget her time at the lakehouse. Her grandma has been sending her letters, she’s not sure how her grandma figured it out but she hasn’t made up her mind about whether she’s happy with it or not. Her heart hurts when she thinks of the lakehouse, how she hadn’t been able to go this year. Regardless of her feelings, she still sits at her desk every night and writes the perfect response to Oikawa’s letters. She sometimes sends little trinkets she thinks he’ll like and he’ll send back pieces of sea glass or a piece of coral. The space on her desk begins to fill quickly. 

She enjoys the little letters they exchange because although she’s not with him it’s like she can still smell the sea and hear his laughter in her mind if she closes her eyes it’s like she can picture herself laying on the dock with a warm body next to her own, knuckles just grazing against each other slightly and not making motions to move further. The quiet breaths she can almost hear over the buzz of bugs and the croaking of frogs. She misses the sticky air and the words that hang in the air and her grandma’s cooking. She misses her sea breeze. 

The weather grows colder and she finds the letters coming slower and fewer. Soon they stop altogether and her mind starts straying from pretty eyes and prettier smiles. She finds herself trying to latch on to anything that she thinks she can keep. She finds safety in art, in making something from the ground up, she enjoys the chalk that stains her fingers and the paint that litters her clothes and winds up on her cheek. Her sketchbook is filled with scales and pretty brown eyes, it’s filled with landscapes of the sea and a creaky old dock with a hill behind it. Of sea gem bracelets and seashell necklaces. 

She finds herself driving to the sea more often than she thought she would. She sits there for hours on the beach and just looks towards the horizon, smelling the air and listening to the birds chirp and the children laugh. She finds the cold air nostalgic in a way, the breeze hitting her cheeks and making her nose run. She wraps a cardigan around herself to sit on the rocks for longer. The sting of the wind is a familiar friend and is almost as familiar as the sting in her eyes. She doesn’t bother wiping the tears away, she has grown to the familiarity of them rolling down her cheeks as she tries to keep her breathing level. It’s a failing attempt and she lets out a dry cough. “I didn’t think I would miss you this much this soon.” 

The day her bracelet breaks is the day she stays home from school and doesn’t move from her bed. There are parts of chipped gems embedded into the carpet of her floor, when she gets up to grab water she cuts her foot on one of the pieces. She pulls the shard out with a pair of tweezers but can feel it already cemented in place and forever a part of her. A part of the sea will be with her. 

She finds it in her the following day to tediously pick the pieces out of her carpet. She steals the superglue from the junk drawer in the kitchen and spends the rest of the day gluing them back together. It’s not the same as it was before but she makes a pair of earrings and a hair clip. The cord holding them together is beyond saving. She wonders as she clips her hair back how Oikawa is doing, if he misses her like she misses him. She hopes the answer is yes, hopes that she lives in his mind as much as he lives in hers. 

“Where are you,” her words die like a whisper in the wind. Realistically she knows where he is, the same place he has been that she hasn’t. She feels her phone buzz in her pocket and sighs as she stands up, the wind almost blows her over as she gets up on unsteady feet. She makes it to her car and sits with her head against the horn of the wheel for a few moments. She drives home fifteen minutes later, she’s unsure of where the time passed. It’s been doing that a lot, jumping around and hiding from her when she’s not looking. 

Her keys clatter against her wooden dresser, it’s covered in paint; some of it peeling off already as she hadn’t wanted to seal it in place. She needs to get a new carpet but that means letting go of the pieces she couldn’t find but knows are there. There’s a lot of things she needs to do but hasn’t. She’s tired.

iv.

The day of her graduation is the next time she sees the lakehouse. Her home in the process of being sold as her mother has to move yet again for her job. This time she won’t be pulled along every which way. She doesn’t let go of her grandma for what feels like hours, just basks in her warmth and honey smell. She gets pushed off weakly and her grandma shakes her head. “Quit that, people will think I’m dying if you keep that up,’ she sends her a wink and Y/N finds herself laughing. 

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” Her grandma lets out a hearty laugh and bumps her hip lightly. Her legs want to pull her to the door leading down a familiar path but she refrains. There’s no chance he’ll be there or want to talk to her. She hadn’t realized how long she had been looking at the door until her grandma speaks up.

“Go see him,” there’s love in her eyes as the two make eye contact. She motions with her head to the door. 

“He won’t want to see me,” she turns her head away and her grandma shakes her head. 

“He’s been waiting for you, said that’s why he stopped sending letters. To force you to see him.” 

“I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“Don’t leave him waiting for too long dear, love like that may not be fickle but it’s difficult to care for when there’s no one helping you.”

“Okay,” instead of going to the dock she locks herself in her old room. Her yellow rain boots sit in the corner and her vanity is still as she left it. There’s a printed photo of her with Oikawa hanging in the top right corner, the edges are curled and it’s entirely too bright but it’s obvious to her what it is. There’s pearls and rocks, and all kinds of trinkets she remembers Oikawa bringing her and her rushing back up the hill squeaky boots and all to give him something in return.

“A kiss will do,” he jokes and presents his cheek to her. She laughs and pushes his head away.

“In your dreams,” she sticks her tongue out at him and trips slightly on the wood as she races up and over the hill. He had grown used to the sight, of her ponytail bouncing as she ran over that grassy hill. He wishes he could go with her but he knows he can’t, he’s fine with how things are. Both of them here and happy. Comfortable, just with each other.

Her hands comb over the old stacks of homework she hadn’t gotten to throwing out before her move. Her stuffed animals are still on the bed and her bed is made with the same pink sheets that they had 8 years ago. There’s decals on her wall of sea creatures and she remembers painting a fish near her bed (she hadn’t quite figured out how human anatomy worked yet). She smiles as her hands trace over the slightly raised surface, her head laid on her pillow and her hair furled out around her. She felt at home again. 

She doesn’t end up going to the dock. She avoids it while she moves her stuff and the only box left to unpack is the letters. It stays taped shut and in a corner in her closet. 

v.

“You’ll never make a living this way darling,” the words are already festering as she eats lunch with her mother. “I mean really? Art is a hobby not a living.” Her mother’s tongue clicks against the roof of her mouth as she brings her cappuccino up to drink it. “Go get a degree in something useful.”

“I like what I do.” Her grip on her fork tightens but she does her best to keep her voice level.

“A children’s book? And about a mermaid? I mean, this just isn’t going to sell enough for you to live off of. You don’t want to mooch off your poor grandmother for the rest of your life do you?” Her teeth grind against each other and she shoves another bite of food in her mouth to keep herself quiet. “Come on darling, I’m just thinking about what’s best for you.” Her mother’s hand rests on top of her own across the table. She turns her head away and pulls her hand back. “Oh, don’t be like that.”

“Art is what I want to do Mom, I want to be an artist. I am an artist.”

“You’re just someone with too many thoughts and access to paint. Talk to me again when you let go of this silly ‘dream’ of yours.” Her mother wipes her mouth and throws some bills on the table before walking out the door. She stays there until the waitress comes and she pays the rest of the bill. Her walk home is cold, the heat of the air not doing anything for her. She pours all of her frustration into her art. By the end of the day she has two books drafted out and they’re sent to a publishing company. 

She finds herself on the dock with the conch in her hand, she flips it over and brings it up to her mouth. Her forehead rests against the shell as she sighs, this isn’t what he meant when he said to use it if she needed him. She does need him, she’s missed him more than she’s allowed herself to. Without another thought she blows into the shell, nothing happens for a little while but then she sees a shimmer in the water. 

“Hi,” she doesn’t need to look from where she now lays on the dock to know he’s there. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” There’s a plop as he lifts himself to lay next to her. “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really. Do you?”

“Not really.” They sit there with their knuckles grazing each other and she doesn’t have the energy to make comments on how nice he looks, she turns to him and puts her head on his chest and he wraps an arm around her. “Let’s just stay like this for a bit.”

“Yeah,” she starts. “Yeah, I would like that.”

In six months time, before her birthday, the books are put on shelves and when she sees them in libraries she can’t help but smile. She signs any copy that someone brings her. Six months after that the second book comes out. Her grandma throws her a small party when she comes back home. “I’m so proud of you,” she’s pulled into a tight hug. “Go tell him,” her grandma ushers her out the door and she laughs a little. 

The conch has become a way for her to ask to see him instead of a danger tool. He doesn’t complain and tells her how he enjoys seeing her again. “I did it,” she whispers as her head rests on his shoulder. 

“You did,” he whispers it gently into her hair like a kiss. 

“Thank you for coming back.”

“I didn’t leave.”

“Turns out you were the one waiting for me,” it’s meant to be a joke but she knows he sees through it when his hand rubs up and down her arm slowly.

“Always.” 

“I got you something,” she lifts her head and sees his smile as he shakes his head. He’s grown into his face, his tan has evened out and there’s a trail of freckles on his shoulders and down his arms. “You can’t say no.” He laughs and it still makes her think of the sea breeze. He’s still the place she feels most calm. 

“Okay, let’s see it.” She reaches into her satchel and it reminds him of the girl he used to know. The girl with a missing front tooth and a lisp, whose pony tail bobbed as she ran up the hill away from him, the one who rummaged through her bag and gave him something he wasn’t aware would be so dear to him. She pulls out a plastic bag and he can’t help how his smile grows. 

“I know you fixed it but…I wanted you to have a better one. Not something I bought at a bookfair for cheap.” The chain is golden and the seashell hanging from it is different from the one he’s since turned into a bracelet. It’s a conch shell and he shakes his head. He carefully puts it on and he wants to kiss her so badly he leans forward, she shifts closer to him too but he pulls her into a hug. His face is buried in her hair and he takes a deep breath. Lemongrass and lavender. 

“Thank you for coming back.”

“Thank you for waiting.”

vi.

“You never told me what you wrote the book on.” He asks as her feet dangle over the edge and his arms rest on the end of the dock. 

“Us,” she finds no reason to be embarrassed although she can feel her face burning. He laughs and she finds a smile appearing on her face as he does so. “Stop laughing, what’s so funny?”

“How did we get turned into a children’s book?” He looks at her with a lopsided smile and she leans down closer to him. Their foreheads close to touching and a piece of her hair falls from behind her ear. 

“Remember all those games we made as kids?” He tucks the stray strand of hair behind her ear and she can see his eyes looking at her lips before darting back up to her eyes. “The ones where we were pirates or royalty?”

“Yeah,” he says quietly as he tries to force himself to stop looking at her lips, it’s difficult when she looks so excited. There’s a hammering in his chest and he wants to hide away. The gold chain feels tighter than usual as it sticks to him from the water. “That’s what you wrote about?”

“Yeah, you were all I could draw for a while.”

“Couldn’t keep me off your mind?” He teases and pokes her arm.

“No,” she answers honestly. She’s been growing tired of their game but wasn’t sure how to stop it. She took the opening he gave her and can only hope this goes well. She sees his eyes widen and his lips part as a sharp intake of air makes his chest rise up. 

“Can I kiss you?” Finally, she nods her head and he wraps his hand around the back of her neck and pulls her down to his lips. They both smile into the kiss and have to part as she starts giggling. Once it happens a few times he can’t stop himself from laughing with her as he kisses her face. “Stop giggling,” he says between laughs. He doesn’t really want her to stop, her laugh reminds him of home. 

“I can’t,” she throws her head back with a laugh and he thinks she couldn’t look any more beautiful than she does at this moment. She’s not aware of what happens until there’s a splash and she feels water encompass her. She swims to the surface and splashes him. “How dare you!” 

They splash around in the water and once they’re out of breath he reaches up and wipes the wet strands away from her face. “I love you.” It’s the first time they’re said the words but not the first time they've felt. 

“I love you too, even if you do pull me into the water for no good reason.”

“Because I wanted you to be closer. I think that’s a pretty good reason.”

“Okay, I’ll accept it. But only because you’re cute.” 

“Gee thanks,” he rolls his eyes and it’s an odd feeling for her feet to brush against the scales of his tail. She enjoys hearing his heartbeat below her ear as they wade in the water. “You know what I’ve always wanted to do?” She hums in response and lifts her head from his chest. “I’ve always wanted to dance with you.”

“And how is that going to work?”

“Hold your breath,” she shakes her head but follows his instructions. The quiet envelopes her as their heads drop below the surface. Her eyes open slowly and she can see Oikawa already smiling at her, he holds his hand out to her and she takes it. He’s able to spin her around once before she tries to go back up for air, he shakes his head and pulls her closer to him. She tilts her head and he brings their lips together as he blows air into her mouth. She smiles at the kiss and they stay under the water for a little longer before she breaks the surface. 

“I can’t believe you did that.” She laughs although her chest heaves up and down from exertion.

“You liked it.”

“Okay, it was a little fun.” She coughs into her arm and he helps her over to the ladder of the dock and watches as she holds on to it. 

“You can hold onto me.”

“I know, I am. I won’t let you go this time.”

“You better not.”

“Why not going to wait for me again?”

“I would always wait for you, no matter how long. I just don’t think I can let you go now that I actually have you.” She smiles and pulls him into another kiss. “Oh do I get kissed if I say cheesy things?”

“Shut up,” she says against his mouth as he smiles and complies as he kisses her back.

taglist (gen, fill out this form) @cheriisae @cherrysurf @hiraethwa @hatsukeii @szyvrue

this is not only for lalechingo but more importantly for @lale-txt since it's her birthday today <333 everyone go wish her a happy birthday and I hope you guys enjoyed this story I told <3

[cognitiveoverload]

Suicide game (Hwang In-ho/Front Man x reader)

Summary: You get an idea during a game, a proposition for a new set of players. Since the Host isn’t present, you talk to the Front Man about it.

Tags: mention of suicidal thoughts

All the other VIPs are busy talking to each other, discussing how much they bet on certain players, how much they’ve lost or won so far. To you, it’s all background noise, you couldn’t care less about it. Your focus is narrowed to the man in gray and black, the Front Man as he was called, because there’s something you want to discuss with him, preferably without an audience.

So, you wait for the perfect moment, which arrives halfway through the ongoing game. After noting that everyone else is busy drinking or watching the players, you stand up and walk over to your target, leaning against the railing he’s standing next to. He doesn’t say anything, only watches you, waiting for whatever you want to say.

“If I remember correctly, these players are here because they need money due to their debts, right?” you wonder casually. There’s a beat of silence, and he doesn’t have to explain what it’s about. “The old man told me when he mentioned this game.”

He lets out a humming sound, tasting your words, trying to imagine his boss talking to someone about this so freely. But Il-nam has a soft spot for you, he knew your father, and when your parents died, he took you under his wings; he gave you really good advice on how to use your inheritance, and he generally helped you if you needed anything. Inviting you to be a VIP when he joined the game was a strange thing, but he survived, and for you, that was enough.

The Front Man looks out the window, watching the players argue about which glass sheet to pick, then turns back to you. “We’re giving them a chance to–”

You quickly raise a hand to dismiss the whole train of thought. “Yeah, yeah, I know, but hear me out. Wouldn’t it be fun to invite suicidal people to the games? Choosing a method isn’t always easy, and they might be debating whether or not to kill themselves, but this? They can die doing something… fun,” you suggest, aware of the fact your smile can be seen under the mask that doesn’t cover your mouth.

“And what makes you think they would be interested?” he asks, and you can hear it in his tone that he considers your idea.

With a shrug, you glance at the bridge and take a sip of your champagne as you watch a player fall to their death. “I sure would join if you made it happen.” You say this so casually that it takes him off guard, at least that’s what his silence is telling you. “Can you ask your boss if he would be interested? I have the money to fund part of it, and I’m sure I could help convince a few other people too. The winner could choose between a bullet to the head and the cash prize.”

For a few moments he’s watching you in silence, but then he takes a deep breath and turns to look at the other guests. “Which one would you choose?” he asks.

“Death.”

He turns to you, watching you in silence for a while. You hear the sound of breaking glass, followed by a high-pitched scream from the arena, but you don’t tear your gaze away from the man in front of you. It’s a staring match, one you’re determined to win. Right now, it feels like the two of you were in a bubble, safely locked away from the other people in the room.

Someone in a red suit and a mask with a square logo stops a few feet away, and the Front Man lets out a sigh before signaling him to wait. “I’ll talk to the Host after the game.”

Nodding, you flash a small smile at him. “Thank you. And tell him I have one condition. If it happens, I want to play the game,” you say, your voice determined and unwavering.

Your statement gets a reaction out of him. Although the color of his skin isn’t visible thanks to the leather gloves he’s wearing, you can see the way his grip on the railing tightens upon hearing your request. Maybe it’s not a usual request, VIPs don’t want to participate, but you feel like this could be the key to your happiness. You want to die, but you don’t like the uncertainty. What if the method you choose in the end isn’t fail-safe? But here you would definitely die, and at least you would experience that thrill.

In the end, he only nods then walks away to see what the staff member wants to tell him. He will get back to you with the answer, you’re sure of that. Especially since you can feel his eyes on you right until you leave the room after the game, like he doesn’t approve of your plan. But it doesn’t matter. It’s all up to the old man now.

[deadfrog-and-friends]

doll apologist part 2

(part 1 here)

the one who came for the broken doll was a crone, terrifying next to the doll's beautiful young mistress. "i'm sorry," its witch said. "i can't get it to stop crying."

"it's no problem," the crone said, their voice deep and raspy. they turned to the doll. "well, doll, time to go. granny needs help with their sewing."

"i'm sorry," the witch said again, "but i don't think it can be much help. it's broken, after all."

"i'm sure i'll find some use for it," the crone said, and they brought the doll home with them. all the doll knew was that it had failed its witch, and was now being sent to live with a stranger, as punishment.

the crone settled the still weeping doll on the sofa with a blanket and a cup of tea. they sat on a rocking chair nearby, embroidering faces on to small, rough hand sewn dolls of fabric. the doll's eyes were too full of tears to notice this, at first. but when it caught something strange moving in the corner of its eye, its tears slowed and stopped for a moment. it wiped its eyes and looked around. there were strange little cloth dolls everywhere. one with eight legs looked down at it from the ceiling. another one, with five red eyes embroidered on its face, had climbed up onto the couch and was snuggling its leg. still others were hidden in various nooks and crannies around the room. noticing the crying stop, the crone bade the doll to have some tea.

the doll sipped, but a sob caught in its throat again, and it spit the tea out on its lap.

"i'm s..." it managed to get out, before it was overcome again.

"it's quite all right," the crone said, returning to their sewing. "please do finish your tea, when you are ready."

a few moments later, it had mastered its own breathing enough to finish the tea. "th-thank you. it's good." it said. "--" it began to weep very softly.

"you're welcome," said the crone. "now, granny has a task for you, whenever you are ready to attempt it." they brought out a basket of yarn of all different colors, mixed together and tangled. "my little ones got into the yarn again. i need these all separated out and wound into balls. your articulated fingers look up to the task."

the weeping doll looked at the basket through its film of tears. it almost seemed like the yarn was writhing. "--"

"you can wait to start until you are done crying, or you can get started whilst crying. i don't really care," said the crone. they got up to prepare another pot of tea.

the tea was good.

with many breaks to turn away and weep, the doll began its task. it was nice, having a task. its former mistress--it wept, thinking of her--had not given it a task in a while. only impossible tasks like stop crying, don't be like this, tell me what's wrong. what was wrong was that it was not a good doll. mistress wanted it to be proud, not sorry, but it wasn't proud. it couldn't be proud. what was there to be proud of? constant insufficiency? it could never be enough, and that was why it had been discarded, banished to this strange house with its scary old matron and its population of unsettling little dolls skittering all over. and they were always making more. to what end? the doll wondered.

at the end of every day, the crone picked the doll up from the couch and gently carried it up to their bedroom, where it placed it on a smaller bed next to theirs. at the start of every day, the crone woke up and brought the doll with them downstairs, to sit by them as they did their work, so the doll was never alone, except when the crone went out. then the little ones would come out and climb all around it and all over it, playing and having fun. the doll did not exactly find it fun, but it wasn't unpleasant either. it was a distraction.

as the months went on, it found it was less and less inclined to think of its old mistress and cry. it was nice that it could cry and cry here without making anyone upset, but it didn't need to cry as much. this was helpful because it meant that it could pay attention to more complex instructions, and take on more interesting tasks. the crone had begun teaching it to knit so it could make tiny socks for the little ones. winter was coming on, and some of them had so many feet.

"i like having you here, doll," the crone said one night when they were knitting. "you've got your quirks, sure, but you're not broken. you'll make an excellent seamstress. i don't mind the silence."

"--" said the doll.

"but, i notice, doll," the crone went on, "sometimes it seems as though you are about to speak, and you choke on the words, and begin to cry. you do know, it's okay to speak your mind here, doll. nothing you say can bother me."

"--"

sometimes the doll was able to speak to the crone. it could thank the crone for the tea. it could confirm that it understood the crone's instructions. it could say no thank you when asked if it needed anything. those were not statements that required apologies. anything else it would indeed choke on. mistress had taken back that order not to apologize, and indeed wasn't the doll's mistress any longer, but still the doll felt that for the most part its apologetic way of forming sentences was incorrect and broken. but the crone was so kind, and didn't mind its crying or its silences. maybe they could tolerate its natural way of speaking.

it thought on what they said for a few days, and then one day when they were walking to town together, the doll trotting beside the old witch, the doll said, "m-miss, i only want to a-a-a...apologize."

the crone stopped in their tracks and looking down at the doll, said, "doll, i am too old to be your miss. you must call me granny."

"ah..." the doll said. "s-sorry."

"i'm not upset," said the crone. "and i don't believe i'm owed any apology. but let us find a place to sit down, and you may give me one anyway."

the doll felt its legs wobble a little at these words, and granny picked it up and brought it to a nearby ledge that looked over a trickle of a creek. they both sat down.

"so you want to apologize," granny said.

"for, for, for," the doll said, "for existing."

"i see," said granny.

"s-ssorry? isn't that wrong?" asked the doll. "isn't this one supposed to be proud?"

"proud? i can think of a few reasons to be proud but no, it's not a requirement. some dolls are humble."

it stared at them, uncomprehending. "sorry?"

"well, in any case, you're forgiven, doll. i'm not offended by your existence, haven't i told you i like having you around? now is there anything else you'd like to tell granny? i'll carry you the rest of the way so you can whisper it in my ear."

and a litany of apologies was whispered in that ancient ear, during the walk, later that evening, and over the next several weeks.

this one was sorry for being frightened of you at first, granny, for resenting you.

sorry for thinking being sent to live with you was a punishment.

sorry for thinking the little ones were cursed.

sorry for never asking for a second cup of tea or a second cookie when it always wanted one.

sorry for crying so much and still crying sometimes at night.

sorry for knitting four pairs of socks wrong because it was afraid to ask for help.

sorry it couldn't untangle the red ball of yarn and had to cut it to pieces, though that was really one of the little one's fault, to be honest.

sorry for only crying when one of the little ones went missing instead of searching with you.

sorry for taking so long to notice how beautiful the light looks in the kitchen window during our mornings together, how comforting the ticking of the mantelpiece clock, and the whistle of the kettle.

sorry for how much it enjoyed the cookies granny made. sorry for how happy this one feels sometimes. sorry for how fun it is to knit a tiny sock. sorry for how beautiful you look standing over a cauldron. sorry for never, sorry for never, sorry, telling you, but it's just so hard to say, that this one loves you

[kairithemang0]

The VanVen ship, what do you think? (Ventus Vanitas)

Hmmmmmm ok I've thought about this one a lot

Venvan is an interesting ship that I would like a lot more if Vanitas didn't call them brothers. I think that their dynamic would be very interesting, pure light and pure darkness, and it would be like the giant extroverted ball of energy vs the introverted quiet emo and I adore that. They're like the "somebody will die" "of fun!" meme and I adore them for that. I think that they both need to go through a lot of therapy together, and need to become more accustomed to the others existence.

Personally I think I prefer them in an au where they are entire seperate beings. I don't have problems with nobody/somebody ships (soroku, kainami) but because Vanitas does see them as brothers I think it gives me a bit on an ick just from that.

But other than that I love their dynamic especially in Vanitas's death scene in kh3. "What I am is darkness" is a great final line for him, although I personally hope he doesn't come back as a character because I think it's just a perfect send off for him. I think it would be an interesting pair to see, the fanart and fics are top tier, I just think I enjoy more of the idea of them than what they are in canon. 7.8/10, I understand why people are turned off by it but I think they're interesting

[sunnibits]

some painting homework I had to do for class that I ended up actually really enjoying <33

both are acrylic gouache on bristol paper :)

[rains-pace]

in honor of the new spider-verse movie i did a quick study of one of my favorite shots from the original !! <33

[icewindandboringhorror]

I have found a beautiful perfect humble rock specimen that is light yellow with a weird dark yellowy brown lining, somewhat resembling a chunk of smoked gouda cheese... effervescent

[skyburger]

venn diagram of these guys

[sysig]

Nice healthy obsession you got there (Patreon)

[undermostcorgi]

YESSSS finally... full body canon designs for vel's family are all done >:3c

[itsalwaysdark]

sighh hell upon me

[dwaekkicidal]

𝖪𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗍𝗈𝖻𝖾𝗋: 'Intense Desire' ༄࿔ L.F.

⤷ Sex Pills | Overstimulation | Squirting

♱ word count: 2.9k

♱ warnings: fem!reader, sex pills usage (felix accidentally taking them), mention of a handjob in a car, he gets “mean” for like a split second, unprotected p in v, rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampies, squirting, if u quint theres 1 sentence of angst at the end, i might be forgetting something

♱ notes: sorry this was delayed! I made it a little longer than the others in hopes that it would make up for the tardiness <3 also 1 the beginning might feel rushed (it was) and 2 sex pills dont completely work like this?? But its fiction so.. pls bare with me im so stressed out LMFAO

Kinktober Schedule

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

The pounding in Felix’s head was just enough to distract him from the colorful clothes around the two of you. The initially exciting shopping trip to the mall with your boyfriend had quickly slowed down thanks to the headache he developed out of the blue. Your comforting words and warm hands on his face only helped so much, and he felt horrible for his body refusing to let him enjoy your date.

It wasn’t until you reminded him of the medicines he had packed away in his bag that he let up on his pouting Then, with the familiar feeling of the plastic of a pill bottle on his fingers and a gentle reminder from you that this should be fun for the both of you, Felix finds himself leading you to the food court. He quickly buys a bottle of water and chugs down 3 pills. It’s over the dosage of 2 he normally would take, but he’s desperate to have a good time with you.

Not long after, he’s back to his normal self and the thumping pain in his head is long gone. Wide smiles and crescent eyes watch you pick out interesting clothes, some even meant to match with him. Everything is back to normal!

That is until 30 minutes after the fact when he’s patiently sitting outside of your changing room waiting for you to try on the next outfit. He starts to feel a new, less painful ache. One between his legs that he’s all too familiar with.

Literal lines of sweat are dripping down his forehead and his neck when you open the curtain to present the outfit you picked out. He forces a smile and has to tear his eyes away from the tight pants to give his opinion. A curt, breathy, “Beautiful.”

The sweat immediately catches your attention and obviously raises concerns from the way your eyebrows furrow. He notices right away and tries not to let it worry you, shooing you away and encouraging you to try on the last pieces of fabric that await you in the changing room.

The second the curtains close behind you he racks his brain for possible reasons as to why a sudden, strong feeling of horniness took over his body. It’s even to the point where his whole body tingles from the ceiling fans above him. The slow gusts of wind make his cock ache in his jeans and goosebumps litter his arms.

He doesn’t think he’s ever gotten this horny in his life. Even the time when you managed to rile him up to the point where he almost came in his jeans when you brushed past him he had never felt this way. He swore he could feel his veins burning as he looked through his bag for his phone, praying that Google would explain everything.

But he doesn’t get far enough to grab his phone, because the realization hits him like a tsunami wave. The pills. He realizes too late that he never checked which medicine he took. And sure enough, when he checked his bag, the tiny plastic bottle he had a hold on earlier wasn’t his Ibuprofen.

Instead, it was a blue pill bottle that he kept for special medicines that he would occasionally get prescribed. This time around, it was the brand new, not prescribed pills he had put to the side for… intimacy reasons.

It was embarrassing at first for him. A young, attractive man in his 20s struggling with his sex life. All thanks to the wear and tear from work stress: the unforgiving cycle of working too much and being overwhelmed, then taking a break and working too little just to fall behind.

You understood! It’s understandable to not be able to get hard when there’s a never ending dread that has made home in the back of your mind. And it was clearly obvious that he is attracted to you, every other time the two of you were intimate is enough evidence for that.

So you offered him an idea that might help! That idea being “horny” pills. It took some convincing and consistent reassurance for him to cave and agree. Which led to that little blue bottle of little red pills that made his not-so-little friend crave your attention.

“Lixie?” Your voice snaps him out of his daydreaming and his head snaps up to see your head poking out of the curtain. Your giggle goes straight to his dick and he has to force a smile to get through the ache. “I need your help with this dress. I can’t get the zipper up.”

You don’t need to ask twice, especially when the promise of getting to see your bare skin is on the table. He’s joining you in the blink of an eye, using his clammy, shaky hands to zip up the dress the rest of the way. Your body flushes at the way he licks his lips as he looks you up and down multiple times.

“Do you like it?” His eyes snap up to yours in the mirror and he nods. It’s pretty obvious to you what’s going on in his head at this point, minus the reason for it, so you rip the dress off and rush to the cashier as fast as you can.

Felix is on your tail the whole time. A hand on your hip and his chest pressed to your back as he shoves his credit card into the card reader. Then again when the two of you get to the car, this time both of his hands on your hips and his face shoved into your neck.

“Need you so fucking bad.” His hard-on is even more obvious now as he grinds it against your thigh, groaning and whining into your neck about how good it feels. You struggle to get the car keys out of his pocket when his hands are all over you, making you feel good when they aren’t even doing much.

“Felix… Not here.” The two of you drabbled in public sex before so it wasn’t a new experience for either of you. But it had been a while since the two of you were intimate so you really didn’t want it to be in the dirty car garage of a mall. In the middle of the day, mind you.

“I need something. Baby, please. I-I can’t do this.” The desperation in his voice is enough to make your neck whip around, almost knocking into his as you look back at him with confusion. He knows you all too well and the answer to your unspoken question is already on the tip of his tongue.

“I accidentally took those sex pills instead of pain meds.” He doesn’t bother explaining further; he doesn’t care anymore. The only thing that’s on his mind is getting you into the car so he can get some sort of stimulation on his poor, achy cock.

You're lucky to even have gotten his hands off of you after that, let alone getting him in the passenger seat and buckled in without him launching at you. However you’re even less lucky as you drive him home, one hand on the wheel and the other- well, on his dick.

You could hear the wetness of him jerking himself off before you saw it. He was keen to get your help though. His eyes were teary and his voice came out a distressed whine as he pleaded for you to help, complaining that his hand wasn’t comparable to how good your hand would feel.

The windows on your shared car are as tinted as legally possible, so you quickly cave and slide your hand toward him. Now 5 minutes away from the house, you quicken your hands in hopes that he’ll cum this soon. But luck isn’t on either of your sides today and the car’s already in park before he’s even close to cumming.

You don’t make it past the entryway before Felix is shoving you forward, pinning you to the wall, and pulling your bottoms to your knees. The sight of your panties all messy and your pussy lips equally as messy from your excitement is enough to make him feral.

“You’re so good to me, Honey. Always so obedient and keeping my pussy ready for me when I most need it. I’m going to give you the world and more.” He doesn’t wait for you to make a comment before he’s pushing your underwear to join your bottoms.

One hand rests on the wall by your face and the other pushes against your lower back, arching your back at the same time that he pushes his cock in. Your walls are warm and wet as they take every last inch of him in, almost as if two puzzle pieces were finally placed together.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head and he sucks on your neck, whispering incoherent mumbles until he’s bottomed out. He only stops then to take deep breaths and calm his own body down. Now that he’s finally inside of you, the effects of the pills feel a million times stronger.

He genuinely feels like a dog in heat, hips still rutting into yours even as his mind tells his body to relax. It doesn’t listen in the slightest and after a short pause his hips are finding a rigorous rhythm. 

Felix is a man possessed behind you; nails digging into your skin leaving bruises to come and hips moving with more force than you thought he could give. It’s hard to think he’s not possessed with his filthy mouth, something he’s always been good at but it hits differently when he’s rock hard inside of you and eager to feel every inch of your body all at once.

You start to feel like the pills are affecting you. Your own body reacts to his fervent movements with warm clenches and moans that spur him on. You feel so sensitive and your orgasm sneaks up on you, causing you to wiggle in his hold. The shuffle of your limbs makes him lose his angle and you both whine.

“No, no, no, no, no, no. Stop. You gotta stay arched, baby. Yeah, just like that. Ffuck…” The hand on your back pushes you forward, completely squishing you against the wall as he tries to arch you back to how you previously were. He knows that he did it right when you start to flutter around him again and your moans ascend a few pitches.

With the other hand using all of his fingers to rub your clit back and forth, he pushes you over the edge. You clench around him as you moan into the wall, your arms shaking as you try to hold yourself up against it. He growls against your ear and bites down on it as he continues fucking you through your high.

He doesn’t stop after you’re done. If anything it only encourages him, the ache in his veins telling him that he needs to keep going and make you feel even better. And so he does, with one hand still furiously rubbing your clit back and forth while the other now moves to your waist and holds up your slouching form.

It just squeezes you appreciatively, almost even possessively as he holds you in place when you start to flail. It doesn’t become mean until in the midst of your thrashing, you move yourself just slightly to the point where he loses his angle again. He pushes his hand roughly against you and arches your back himself again, this time with a disgruntled snap. 

“Stop fucking doing that.” He’s huffing into your ear as his hips pick up pace, going even faster than he was before. “Be good or else I’ll bend you over with nothing to lean on.” But it’s hard to control your body when painful pleasure is swimming through your body. Even more so when you feel another orgasm lurking.

“B-Baby, fuck! Give me a sec, you’re-” You cut yourself off with a shriek as the hand on your waist moves to tangle itself in your hair. It uses the grip to pull you back up to rest your back flat against his chest. His other hand finally falters at this point, instead of rubbing your clit it sinks into your thigh.

“I’m what, Honey. Tearing up your guts?” He laughs out a sound of agreement that turns into a guttural groan as his blinding thrusts finally let up. A few sharp thrusts and a series of moans fall from his lips as he empties himself out inside of you. It feels like gallons of his seed are filling your stomach, and the feeling of it leaking out onto your inner thighs is enough to make you believe that’s the case.

If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. He just stands there with his forehead against your shoulder and his arms wrapped around your torso, mind reeling as he comes down from such an intense high.

“Baby. You didn’t cum with me at the end, did you?” He’s more upset that he faltered that badly, but the twitch of his cock lets you both know that he’s not close to being done regardless. The question is a real testament to your faith. Lie to him and maybe bribe him to let you take a break, or tell the truth and deal with the consequences. Though, it doesn’t seem like he was asking.

He pulls out and moves his hand to the small of your back. Neither of you even spared a glance at your bottoms as you’re dragged to the living room and shoved into the couch. It knocks the breath from your lungs momentarily, and it’s all the time he needs to bend you to his will. Your shoulders sink into the bottom cushions and your legs are hovering just above you as he shoves his cock inside of you again. 

The breath is almost knocked from you again as he finds a new, rougher pace to follow. This one isn’t nearly as fast but the new angle, thanks to your ankles being by his ears, sends him right where he wants to be. His previous load froths along his length as he fucks into you like your lives are on the line. 

Your hands find home on his biceps and your nails leave deep crescent shapes along his skin as you desperately try to find something to ground yourself with. The new vigor he fucks you with makes it so that your next orgasm builds up within a minute or two. The feral stare from his lidded eyes only makes your stomach squeeze as you realize that he really has no plans to stop, even if he really wants to. 

“Felix, baby, s-slow down. It feels w-weird.” You push against his stomach in hopes that it will slow him down, but it doesn’t. He stays quiet and only responds by grabbing your wrist and shoving it into the cushion by your head; a wordless command for ‘Hands off.’ You look up just in time to see his gaze grow more intense.

He even leans forward, both of his hands moving to your thighs to fold them into your chest. His hips pick up speed once he has you folded to his liking and you find that strange feeling growing stronger. You get a glimpse of him licking his pink lips that then perk up into a menacing smile and then the feeling grows too strong, forcing your eyes closed and your legs to combat his hold.

Your body can only shake as you gush around him and he curses under his breath at the sight. Your cunt spams around him and you squirt through his merciless fucking. The wet, squelching noises combat the volume of your cries to the point where he periodically goes out of his way to thrust into you even rougher just to hear it more.

“You hear her talking to me? Fucking shit- She really liked that, huh baby?” He laughs in disbelief and slams into you repeatedly, chasing his own sudden orgasm from watching you cum so intensely.

“That was so fucking hot, Baby.” The whine in his voice doesn’t match the cocky look on his face, but you can’t be bothered to comment about it as he finishes inside of you all of a sudden. Your sensitive walls constrict around him yet again and he cums deep inside, riding his own orgasm out to the sound of your overwhelmed sobs.

His chest heaves as he catches his breath and he takes the moment to glance at a clock on the wall. It’s been a few hours since he took the pills so they should be going down soon. He can already feel his brain going back to normal, and his thoughts are clearing up as the two of you sit there unmoving.

“You… Are you ok, Honey?” Your sniffles are enough to make his heart drop into his ass, but when you look up at him the anxiety leaves his body. You smile at him through the tears and laugh as best as you can while still breathless.

“Holy shit, Felix.” He matches your chuckle and leans forward, slotting your legs on either side of his waist as he repeatedly pushes his lips against your cheek. “I’m… great. But you owe me for fucking me within an inch of my life like that with no warning.”

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3rd Star Wars daemon AU post!

Here by popular demand: The Jedi Council and their daemons!

Depa Billaba - Hooked Billed Kite (Taryz)

Mace Windu - Bald Eagle (Maisha)

Yoda - Ostrich (Kieachkta)

Shaak Ti - Hyacinth Macaw (Thevren)

(Commander Colt - Anatolian Shepherd (Pistol))

Plo Koon - Osprey (Averyl)

Ki-Adi Mundi - Great Blue Heron (Czirda)

Kit Fisto - Blue Footed Booby (Krios)

Now onto my random AU lore and thoughts:

JEDI LORE TIME: So, as I’ve said in my last daemon AU post, the Jedi generally have bird daemons. This is by nurture, not nature. The way the Jedi teach young force-users to interact with the Force usually ends up directing their daemons to settle into a bird species of some kind. Which conveniently is around the time a Jedi Initiate is either chosen to be a Jedi Knight or be sent to the Jedi Corps. While it is not a rule that a Jedi Knight has to have a bird daemon, there are stigmas in the Jedi culture that lead to Jedi Knights and Masters not wanting to pick Padawans with not-bird daemons. This was one of the reasons the Council was hesitant to take in Anakin originally. He was already past the age of being nurtured to have his daemon settle as a bird, as he was raised outside the Temple.

(If you’re wondering why Obi-Wan doesn’t have a bird daemon, look at my last post. But to summarize his daemon settled while on Melida/Daan. So not ideal circumstances) (Also Qui-Gon Jinn cares not for cultural taboos, so he did not care much that Obi-Wan’s daemon ended up not being a bird lol)

The exceptions to this bird-daemon rule is generally Jedi in the Corps and Jedi Shadows (I will be making a Quinlan Vos post at some point that goes into that more).

DEPA BILLABA and her daemon, Taryz, who is a Hooked Billed Kite.

Okay for the life of me I cannot remember the reason I picked Depa’s daemon 😅, but it was probably just: ‘I like how Hooked Billed Kites look’. So a good reason obv.

I inserted some silly interactions between Obi-Wan and Depa, and Kee-Ayt and Taryz. I headcanon that since they are the two youngest council members, they will go out of their way to act like children in front of the older council members. Just to make the others role their eyes and say ‘kids 🙄’. Despite the fact that both of them are like in their mid 30s-40s. But besides them acting like two siblings alone in the back seat of a car, they are close with each other. Taryz is the daemon most comfortable being casually around Kee-Ayt, out of the other daemons in the Council. (I imagine that since most Jedi daemons are birds, sometimes other Jedi don’t know how to interact with Kee-Ayt)

MACE WINDU and his daemon, Maisha, who is a Bald Eagle. 

In the Temple there runs a rumor amongst the Padawans about which came first: Mace being bald? Or Mace’s daemon settling as a Bald Eagle? A real ‘chicken or the egg’ question lol.

But more seriously, I really did just end up picking a Bald Eagle daemon because I wanted to make bald jokes hahaha. That and Bald Eagles just naturally look pissed all the time, which matches well with Mace’s ‘resting bitch face’.

YODA and his daemon, Kieachkta, who is an Ostrich.

My whole concept for Yoda was just: ‘if Yoda is a small species, then he should get a big ass daemon to balance it out’. And yes, Yoda rides around on Kieachkta because of course he does. And when he can’t hit your ankles with his stick, he’ll get Kieachkta to peck the back of your head (which hurts ow).

(If you’re wondering, all of Yoda’s species have bigger daemons. Like Yaddle has an Emu daemon).

SHAAK TI and her daemon, Thevren, who is a Hyacinth Macaw.

My only thoughts for Shaak’s daemon was I wanted it to be big and colorful. 1. Because she’s just this tall figure with long montrals. She just needed a big bird species to go with her impressive figure. 2. She just has always had a fun color scheme, so I thought a colorful bird of some kind would be fun. SO A HYACINTH MACAW. They’re huge and a beautiful blue color (that matches her montral stripes). I also just wanted her to have a fun, friendly looking daemon. Since she’s on Kamino most of The Clone Wars, and interacting with Tubies and Cadets. I think her having a big, loving, approachable looking daemon was just right. (Which is why in this AU, she was chosen to be the one working with the younger clones). Hence why I have so many doodles of her daemon with young clones’ daemons. 

Plus I added an extra doodle of Commander Colts’ daemon, Pistol, who is a breed of Livestock Guardian Dog. Since Colt is also on Kamino, he often is ‘herding’, ‘protecting’ and ‘training’ the young clones. So a herding/guardian  dog daemon felt right for him. (Pistol is the bad cop to Thevren’s good cop lol)

PLO KOON and his daemon, Averyl, who is an Osprey.

Tbh I didn’t have any idea what bird I wanted Plo to have. So I ended up googling ‘bird species that are good parents’ lol. And Osprey were on that list! Idk how true that is, but IN STARWARS IT IS NOW TRUE.

 Plo is just The Jedi Dad Of All Time (*cough cough* Ahsoka *cough cough* Wolffe *cough cough* Wolf Pack), so he got a Parent Of All Time bird lol. 

And yes Averyl spends all her free time trying to preen EVERY member of The Wolf Pack. Is that physically possible? I don’t know, but don’t even try to tell Averyl she can’t do it. All her furry dog children WILL feel her affection.

KIT FISTO and his daemon, Krios, who is a Blue Footed Booby.

All I can say is I knew I wanted Kit to have a sea bird, because he’s The Swimming Jedi^TM. And I love Blue Footed Boobies. 

Also Kit is a silly guy who deserves a silly bird, with silly blue feet and a silly name.

KI-ADI MUNDI and his daemon, Czirda, who is a Great Blue Heron.

Ki-Adi is a long, lanky looking dude so he gets a long, lanky bird. 

I have spoken.

(Also I see a lot of Blue Herons around where I live, so they’re a favorite of mine).