#truly I have so many ocs with little backgrounds

[bihanspookies]

I have a RE6 let’s play going on in the background at work and it’s making me think of my barely developed RE oc lmaoo

[sparklingchim]

summer playlist; m | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 4k

genre: hockeyplayer!jungkook, richgirlie!oc, college!au, fwb, brother's best friend

rating: 18+

warnings: semi public sex, blowjob, spanking, jk is truly obsessed w her <3, protected sex, nipple play, jk leaves a hickey n oc gets upset 🙄, spit, dirty talk, his necklace dangling in her face 😋, jk's rejection count: TWO !!!!, pls someone hug him 🫂, fingering, clit play, groping

summary: pov: jungkook dedicates a cute playlist to you and fucks you to it on the balcony.

a/n: ur honour i was forced to write this don't come for me !!! 👉🏼👈🏼 enjoy the filth 😋

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

One of your favourite forms of self-care and relaxation is Pilates.

You love dressing up in your cute gym wear sets – you own countless of them, even though you never actually work out in the gym; they’re purely for the aesthetics – and grabbing a big water bottle along with your laptop for at least half an hour dedicated me-time.

It’s a bright morning and you’re on the balcony. The sun is gently warming the air as you’re following a Pilates video on your laptop, which is propped up on the couch. Jungkook’s playlist, the one he created just for you, is playing softly in the background, providing the perfect soundtrack without drowning out the instructor’s voice.

Truly, nothing can beat these types of mornings.

But of course, something had to interrupt your peace.

While you’re on your hands and knees, your phone vibrates next to the mat. You ignore it the first few times, but it keeps buzzing. With an annoyed huff, you grab it and unlock the screen.

Jungkook’s spamming you with numerous messages.

Jungcock 😋

hi

morning

watchu up to

im taking a run in the park

and im boored

are u up?

entertain me

You

omg did you change your contact's name again

stop doing that

how can you text and run?

He doesn’t reply. Instead, he calls you on FaceTime.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Jungkook says in a raspy voice, the screen shaking a bit as he runs his miles around campus. “I’m good at everything I do.” His tight black tee clings to his chest, displaying his big pecs. You feel your breath hitch and you’re not sure if it’s from your workout or the sight of him.

“Your ego, Jungkook,” you reply, shaking your head in disbelief. “Too big.” You set your phone down with an exasperated sigh, leaning it against the feet of the couch. His eyes drift down to your cleavage.

“I think my ego is perfectly fine. Flashing his dimples as you roll your eyes at him. “What are you doing?” he asks, sounding a bit breathless – so hot, but you brush it off. You’re a strong girl, after all.

“Was doing Pilates until you rudely interrupted me,” you say skipping back on the YouTube video and picking up where you left off. “Don’t you have other girls to entertain you?”

“None of them are as cute as you,” he replies smoothly, and you can’t help but wish he wouldn’t be so good at flirting. “You look hot in that fit.”

“Thanks.” You follow the instructions on the screen. It turns out to be a bit harder to focus with a sweaty, ruggedly handsome Jungkook right beneath it.

“Are you listening to my playlist?”

“Yeah,” you admit, smiling.

Your thoughts wander back to the time Jungkook made that playlist for you. You had told him you never really listened to playlists, just played one song and let the auto-play feature do the rest. He was so stunned by that revelation that he spent an afternoon creating a cute little summer playlist just for you.

“Good choice,” he grins, clearly pleased with himself.

“I actually really like the playlist.”

“Of course. I make the best playlists,” he boasts, and you can’t help but chuckle at his confidence.

An exhausted sigh escapes your lips. After finishing the set, you change into the child pose and take deep breaths, relaxing the muscles.

“Taehyung’s at his morning class?” he asks.

“Uh-huh.”

“Can I come over?”

You lift your head to look at the screen. He’s running at a more leisurely pace, looking even more irresistible.

“Like, right now?”

“Yeah.”

“But I’m busy,” you argue, teasing him with a thoughtful pout. On the screen, the instructor announces that the little break is over, and you should get ready for your next set, but you’re not listening anymore. What’s happening on the little screen in front of you is far more enticing.

“Busy, huh?” he mocks with a smirk. “Maybe I can help you with what you’re doing.” His eyes light up with excitement as he pushes his hair from his forehead. “Or you wanna get busy together?”

Unfortunately, it seems you’re not as strong a girl as you thought. You’re very weak. His teasing question, coupled with his wicked tongue grazing his lip piercing, has you weak in the knees. You want nothing more than him on the couch and you straddling him.

“I won’t take up too much of your time,” he promises, the sweet smile back on his face. “Unless you want me to.” He raises an eyebrow teasingly.

“Just come over,” you tell him with a hint of irritation.

Jungkook has the audacity to chuckle, and you frown at him.

“Be quick, or I’ll change my mind.”

~

“Hi.” Jungkook pokes his head out from the balcony.

You squeal, placing a hand over your chest.

“Jungkook!” you exclaim. “What happened to ringing the bell like normal visitors?”

“Why did you give me the passcode then?” he retorts cheekily, ogling the snug fit of your gym wear.

“Because I had severe cramps and didn’t wanna get up from the couch.”

Thinking back on that specific day, you feel a spark of giddiness bloom in your chest. You had gotten your period, were battling atrocious cramps, and top of it, you had run out of pads. With Taehyung not home and needing them urgently, you knew Jungkook was always quick to reply to your texts. So, you decided to ask him if he could pick up some pads for you.

Twenty minutes later, he showed up at your door not only with the pads but also with snacks. You could see the faint pink flush on his cheeks when he asked, “Girls like eating chocolate when they’re on their period, right?” and hesitantly handed you the snacks.

And then, you did something that still makes you ponder at night – you cuddled without having had sex before. Oddly enough, it felt more intimate than any sexual encounter. Granted, you did get up to some naughty things afterwards, but still. Jungkook had cuddled you through your cramps and even endured watching reality tv shows he claims to despise once again.

“Well, I didn’t wanna disrupt you.” Jungkook walks over to the couch. He grabs your laptop, settles down, and places it on his lap. “Not now, anyway.”

You shift to sit on your knees. Briefly glancing at the screen where the instructor does the next set of exercises before drifting to Jungkook’s smitten face. His skin glistens with a thin sheen of sweat, and his chest still rises and falls a bit faster than usually.

You nod towards him, eyes clinging to his muscular thighs that peek out from his shorts. “How am I supposed to focus when-” When you look like that. But the words catch in your throat.

Jungkook is so shamelessly cocky, he places his hands behind his head. “When what?”

You sigh in irritation, close the video, and slide the laptop off his lap and onto the couch. He opens his legs for you. “Forget this,” you huff, placing your hands on his knees. Jungkook leans in, crashing his lips onto yours, his hand cupping your face.

The kiss is needy and messy. He teases you with his tongue, and you playfully respond until he tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, causing you to moan and lose yourself in the feeling of his mouth. In less than a minute, Jungkook has you completely pliant in his embrace.

The balcony is surrounded by tall privacy screens and partially shaded by a large canopy, providing privacy from prying eyes.

Your hands slide up his legs, underneath his shorts. You feel his thighs flex on your palm and you squeeze them back in response.

“Wanna feel your mouth,” Jungkook whispers against your lips, sighing in pleasure when you just barely graze your fingers against his cock that strains against the material of his briefs.

Jungkook impatiently pulls down his shorts and briefs and you help him. His cock springs out and stands prettily against his abdomen. Your mouth waters and you have to tell yourself to calm down – he's just a boy and you’re too whipped.

You spit on his cock and coat his length with it. You twist your hand as you slowly pump him and he grows even harder within your grasp, becoming veiny and heavy. You stick out your tongue and give him a few licks over his tip. Jungkook sharply inhales, a gentle moan following right after when he sees you tapping his dick against your tongue.

“Fuck, babe.” He takes his cock in his own hand and continues tapping his head against your tongue. He runs his tip across your mouth too, watching with keen, clouded eyes as he creates a little mess on your face. When he’s finished, he lets you grab his cock again. You wrap your lips around his dick and start bobbing your head up and down.

“That’s right,” he says, brushing your hair behind your ear. His eyes close as you take him deeper into your mouth and his head falls back. With his palm on the back of your head, he presses your head down. A curse flees his lips as almost his entire length vanishes into your mouth.

Jungkook forces his eyes open and moans at the sight of your mouth full of his cock. He loves watching you suck his cock and you love hearing him moan for you.

You’re a little breathless when you release his cock with a lewd pop sound, and your eyes a bit teary too. You stroke his dick and dip down to suck on his balls.

“So good. Fuck – you know what to do,” he mumbles like he’s drunk and you giggle at his comment.

“You like that?”

“So fucking much.” His hand caresses your head, so soft at handling you, but the way desire pinches his brows together shows how much he is struggling to restrain himself from just shoving his entire length down your throat. “Come here.” His tatted hand glides down your shoulder, pulling you up onto his lap.

He squeezes your ass and delivers it a little smack. “You’re so hot.” He peeks over your shoulder, watching the supple flesh fill his hands completely.

“How can you claim to be an everything guy when you’re clearly an ass guy.”

Jungkook takes offense at that. “I am an everything guy!” His hands quickly move to your breasts and he kneads them through your sports bra. “I love your tits just as much.” The tight material presses them snugly together. “I love every part of you.”

You feel a gentle warmth in your cheeks, but you laugh it off. “That is so playboy behaviour of you, Jungkook.”

A frown spreads on his face, lips puckering the slightest bit. “I’m no playboy,” he grumbles as he plays with your tits. Planting little kisses along your neck as if to add sincerity to his words.

You push his arms away and try to stand up, but Jungkook quickly pulls you back onto his lap, firmly gripping your waist.

“Where are you going?” he asks, his tone almost scolding. You grasp his wrist, but he doesn’t let go, his hands remaining firmly in place.

“Condoms,” you remind him. He lets out a quiet, muffled “oh”, and his grip loosens with a reluctant sigh. “’Cause, you know. We hook up with other people.”

Jungkook scoffs at your remark.

“What?” Tilting your head slightly. “I saw you with Nayeon at the party.” You try to sound as least huffy as you can.

“And you fucked Eunwoo,” he counters.

You actually didn’t – you just made out with him. You deliberately chose a spot so Jungkook could see you from the couch, with Nayeon clinging to his side, just because you wanted him to see you.

“So?”

Jungkook levels you with a piercing gaze but remains quiet. He gives your butt a pat and nods towards the balcony door. “Go get the condom.”

When you fetch a condom from your room and return to Jungkook, you see saliva dripping from his lips and he lubes himself up as his pretty fingers wrap around him and stroke his cock. He looks unfairly hot doing the filthiest things.

“Bend over my lap,” he instructs when you hand him the condom, but he ignores it and drops it next to him.

He helps you settle onto his lap, your tummy pressed against one of his thighs and your ass in the air. Jungkook rolls the tight fabric of your shorts over your ass. He flicks your panties aside and groans at the pretty sight in front of him. Wet pussy peeks out from between your soft thighs.

His finger swipes across your pussy. “So wet for me. Can’t wait to have my dick in your pussy, huh?” He rubs your arousal over your pussy, spreading your folds to spit and make an even bigger mess. He’s having so much fun teasing and rubbing you, playing a little with your clit and dipping the tip of his finger inside you.

“Jungkook,” you whine, looking over your shoulder. “We don’t have that much time.”

“Sorry.” He circles your hole with two fingers and plunges them deep inside you. “Better, princess?” he asks after you choke on a moan, mocking you with fake sympathy.

“Yeah, better.” The words roll off your tongue in a soft whisper. Jungkook curls his fingers and your eyes roll involuntarily. “So good.” His other hand rolls the plump flesh of your ass around his palm, sometimes squeezing and leaving his fingerprints on your skin.

He’s fast in figuring out a rhythmic way to move his fingers that instantly unfurls pleasure all over your body. Jungkook knows your body all too well; he has perfected the art of knowing what you like the most.

It makes you think back to high school when you had the biggest, silliest crush on him and wanted nothing more than his attention. Who could blame you? Your older brother’s hot best friend was the captain of the school’s hockey team and practically lived at your house.

Of course, developing a crush on him was inevitable. But you never showed him that you found him cute – you treated him like your older brother’s annoying best friend who was always around. Bickering was just the nature of your friendship. Sometimes, you’d get annoyed when your dad paid more attention to Jungkook. It wasn’t because he preferred Jungkook over you, but because your dad, a high-profile NHL General Manager, supported the boys on their journey.

Every girl in school was swooning over him – they still are. And you’re not the only girl he’s paying attention to. You have to force yourself to admit that he’s hooking up with other girls too, because denying it would make this seem so serious, and the thought of things becoming serious scares you.

You’re content with how things are between you two – you’re not foolish enough to turn this simple, silly arrangement into something serious when you know it wouldn’t last. Taehyung being the main reason for that. But you don’t want Jungkook in a romantic way anyway, and he doesn’t too.

Jungkook smacks your butt, soothing the sharp hit by running his hand over your burning skin right after. “Want your little pussy to be a mess for me.”

It is, you want to say. You are. But you’re lost in the tingling pleasure that clouds your mind, leaving you with nothing but desperate need for him. Any rational thoughts vanish, replaced by an angelic, repetitive chant of his name. Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook.

And with only Jungkook your mind, you cum around his fingers, walls clenching as the rush of your high envelops you completely.

“Good girl.” His fingers lather your slick all over your pussy, marvelling at how much it glistens under the sun, watching how it sticks to the pad of his fingers in little strings. “So pretty.” He discards your shorts and panties before pulling you up and making you straddle him.

Your arms drape over his shoulders as he takes in your weary expression, a small smirk rising on his face.

“So annoying,” you mutter and his smile grows wider. You smooch his dimple and rest your forehead against his neck when Jungkook rolls the condom over his cock and you feel him lift your hips up a little to align his tip with your entrance.

He stretches you out in a familiar, delicious way. Burying himself so deep inside you as you sink down on him. Your nose brushes his jaw and a shaky moan bubbles up when you move your hips and feel the full size of his cock.

Jungkook hands stay on your hips, guiding your movements before they sneak behind you and anchor themselves in your butt and you sniff a laugh, leaning back to peer at his face.

“Why?” he questions, curiosity piqued. Even though he doesn’t know why you’re amused, a soft smile spreads on his face.

“Nothing.” Your fingers gently weave through his smooth hair, playing with the strands at the back of his head. “Just you.”

The corners of his mouth curl upward and a satisfied, cocky glint settles in his eyes.

“Take this off,” you say, tugging at the tight-fitting shirt covering his upper half. Jungkook pulls it over his head, revealing a shiny silver necklace decorating his neck. “Is this new?” You trace the delicate chain with your nail.

“Yeah,” he grins proudly. Setting your laptop aside on the coffee table, he manhandles you onto your back, pushing his cock even further into you as he sits on his knees and leans over you. “You like it?”

The necklace dangles just above your face, its silver chain shimmering and momentarily catching your attention. You pull him closer by tugging on it.

“It’s pretty. Suits you.”

The compliment conjures a boyish smile on his lips, making his face soften with a warm, endearing glow – such a sweet contrast to the way he pounds into you with practised movements, his skin covered in sweat yet again, but not for the innocent reason of keeping fit for hockey, but for the wicked reason that Jungkook can’t control his desire to fuck his best friend’s younger sister and keeps coming back to you despite having so many other options.

Jungkook drags your bra down and squeezes your breast, loving the heavy feel of your supple flesh filling his closed fist.

You throw your legs around his waist to pull him even closer to you, if that’s even possible, and Jungkook deepens his thrusts, leaving you gasping for air and holding onto his shoulders, needing something to sink your nails into.

He dips his head down and catches your pebbled and sensitive nub in his mouth, sucking and licking and making your moans whinier. Jungkook leaves tiny flecks of spit on your skin as he peppers your chest and neck with smooches.

Jungkook’s touches send waves of euphoria through you, leaving your thoughts scattered and your senses heightened by how good he makes you feel, chasing your high as you concentrate on the way he reaches your sweet spot every time his body meets yours, so you only realise Jungkook is nibbling and sucking on your neck when you feel his teeth poke you.

“Jungkook,” you scold him, yanking him by the hair.

“What?” He peers at you through his big, round doe eyes.

“Why would you do that?” Your finger grazes the spot where he was just working hard to create a little hickey. “You know I don’t like that.”

“But you look pretty with it.” His brows raise to make his point clear. “Trust me.” He smiles at you in an annoyingly charming way, giving the freshly created hickey a gentle kiss. “A little love bite.” Love bite. You don’t want to dwell on how those words make you feel.

The only thing you want to think about is how close you are to cumming.

“Don’t do that again.” You avoid his gaze and cast it downwards, where he disappears into you. “Just– just make me cum.”

He pushes your leg up, his palm firmly against the back of your thigh. His sparkly necklace catches your attention, swinging in front your face, and it's the way he looks – his face flushed with desire, eyes smouldering, and every muscle taut with intensity – that makes it impossible to look away, leaving you completely captivated as you listen to his pretty moans that sound even better than the song playing in the background.

Your fingers trail down his chest, brushing over his hard abs as a faint attempt to moan his name rolls of your tongue and you bask in the bliss that floods through you.

“Fuck, ___,” he rasps when he feels you squeezing his cock. “Gonna cum too.”

His thrusts become sloppy as Jungkook loses himself in the feeling of release. His moans are breathy and low and you hear him stutter when he finally comes undone too. The muscles on his tummy clench and you feel his grip on your thigh tighten as Jungkook moves his hips slowly now. With rosy cheeks and a look of deep satisfaction brightening his face, he leans in, and presses a fervent kiss to your lips.

You’d love to stay like this with him a bit longer, teasing and annoying each other until you’re ready for another round. But the reminder that Taehyung’s class will end soon brings you back to reality. You only ever have these secret moments for a limited time before reality comes crashing back down.

“Think we should head inside?” you ask.

“Uh-huh.” He’s busy dotting your neck with gentle kisses.

“You’d have to get off me, y’know?”

He chuckles, and you feel a ticklish flutter in your tummy.

“Just wait a minute.”

~

You step back inside once you’re both clothed again and you managed to pry Jungkook off you after he stubbornly clung to you for what felt like ages. Definitely longer than just a minute.

“We could make this exclusive, if you’d want that,” Jungkook proposes, stepping closer and you feel his heavy gaze lingering on you.

“Huh?” You’re busy with closing the balcony door, cursing the insects that always manage to invade your apartment. Taehyung’s been promising to put up the insect screen for months.

Jungkook helps you close the door with a strong push. “If the condoms annoy you, we could stop hooking up with other people.”

“Oh,” you utter, surprised.

If you’re honest with yourself, you have to admit that Jungkook has ruined you for other guys. No other boy quiet hits the same after experiencing how Jungkook treats you in bed. There is a reason why girls blush and giggle and crave his attention whenever he walks by. He’s just that good.

But being exclusive means spending even more time together, which increases the chance of Taehyung finding out.

You cringe at the thought of that.

“We’d practically be begging Taehyung to catch us like fools,” you tell him.

Just then, you hear someone type in the code and the front door opens.

Quickly, like a practised move, you put distance between you and Jungkook.

“You hungry, ___?” Taehyung calls out, emerging from the hallway. His gaze is focused on his phone as he types, until he notices you and Jungkook and stops in his tracks. “I was just about to call you for breakfast.” He lifts the bag from your favourite bakery. “What are you doing here?”

“I knew you’d invite me for breakfast.” Jungkook beams, reaching for the bag.

Taehyung’s gaze shifts to you, but you quickly brush past him. “I’m gonna take a shower. Don’t wait for me!”

“Did you come from a workout?” You hear Taehyung ask Jungkook.

Jungkook says yes, but he doesn’t tell your brother what kind of workout.

And moments like these are exactly why you want to keep things as they are with Jungkook.

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

read more of this couple here <3

[nochukoo97]

we can’t be friends (wait for your love) - teaser

pairing: childhoodfriend!jk x childhoodfriend!oc

summary: you and jungkook have been friends since birth, and as you both grow into teenagers, you can’t help but have some sorr of longing feeling towards him. but after a turn of events, you move away from your home town, growing apart from the boy you onced were close to. almost a decade later when you decide to move back, there’s someone familiar yet unfamiliar waiting for your arrival… was this the universe giving you a sign about him?

warnings/tags: story starts off when the both of them are children, but most of the plot is when they are adults :)), eventual: kissing, an emotional rollercoaster 🥲, they’re stuck in a ‘what are we’ moment, playing a waiting game of who confesses first, a little bit of angst, smut, but fluff too hehe

a/n: IM BACK 🥲 after being in writers block sighhh but i am back hehehe hope u r excited for this!! anyways this is just an intro for the actual fic, its more of what happened before the present which will be in the main part hehehe

TAGLIST OPEN!!

(this is the introduction, the main part is coming soon :)))

MASTERLIST

23 July 2007

You’re currently wedged between two bookshelves in the living room of your house, eyes trained on the words in your book, giggling to yourself when the plot takes a funny turn. Meanwhile in the background, Jungkook and your brother Taehyung, both a year older than you, the two ten year old boys play fighting in your parents backyard, their game was way too rough for you to even watch, you decided.

That’s always the way it’s been since you were young, Jungkook’s mum dropping him off at your parents place as he spent time with your brother, mostly roughhousing like they are now, and you, at nine years old, simply tucking yourself in another fairytale, which to you seemed like a much better way to past time.

You never truly spent a lot of time with the two of them when Jungkook would come over, besides the once-in-a-while moments where your parents would make you guys bond a little through board games or card games which the two elder boys would never take seriously, the games always ending in them either throwing the board game pieces at each other or stacking the cards into a pyramid.

When it came to school, you tried your best to stay away from bumping into your brother at school, but you’d always end up being teased in front of your friends by him and Jungkook, making fun of your two pigtails or your very glittery pink bag you had just gotten as a birthday gift, but you were used to it anyways, having grown up with a brother.

12 August 2011

Four years go by and now you’re finally completing your last year in middle school, Jungkook and your brother having moved on to high school, and as expected, they end up attending the same school, as they have done their whole life.

But since four years ago, a lot has changed. You’ve grown much closer to Jungkook, having gone on quite a few trips with his family, and you could even consider him a close friend. Most importantly, he’d grown from being a kid to a teenager, even though he was only a year older than you, the 14 year old boy suddenly became someone you always wanted to hang out with. To you, you saw him as someone cool. Instead of teasing you along with your brother, he now would defend you from your brother’s teasing, treat you to ice cream on the weekends and even teach you the video games he played with your brother.

“And then he let me get as many toppings as I wanted,” You tell your friends, clicking the buttons on your phone to show them the picture of your ice cream, filled to the brim with all sorts of toppings because Jungkook said you could.

“You’re so lucky, I wish I had a boyfriend like that,” Jiyeon sighs, pouting her lips as she sulks.

Your face turns red, tip of your ears warm as you quickly deny, “He isn’t my boyfriend! Just a friend… In fact he was my brother’s friend first,” No, you couldn’t even begin to try and imagine Jungkook as someone more than your friend!

“Well, but you should definitely confess to him on valentine’s day, it’s in like six months,” Yuji twirls her hair, nudging your leg slightly as she giggled.

To the three of you, as 13 year old girls, having a valentine was a big deal, especially since the whole idea of a crush and all was new to you guys as teenage girls.

“No! I don’t have feelings for him! He’s just nice to me I guess,” You frown at Yuji, just because she confessed to her crush and now apparently has a boyfriend, doesn’t mean you need to do it too, you decided.

You didn’t have a crush on Jungkook right?

You push away the thought quickly, this whole topic was so taboo to you, it made you feel squirmy thinking about it. No, you didn’t have any sort of feelings towards the older boy, never.

-

So that day when you arrived back at home, spotting Jungkook and Taehyung sitting at the table and doing their homework, you decide to take a seat away from the certain boy.

“Huh? Why are you sitting all the way there? Come back here,” Jungkook hums, pulling out his earphones in bewilderment, you had always sat next to him whilst the three of you would do homework together after school, nudging him here and there to ask for help with a math problem.

“I- okay,” You scooch towards the chair next to him, dragging your books along the table as you avoid eye contact. Your cheeks heating up again as you remember your conversation with your friends in school earlier, it made you feel all tingly inside, but why were you being so weird in front of him?

“You’ve been staring at that math problem for ages, need help?”

You jump up in surprise at Jungkook’s voice , letting out a small yelp as your brother snickers at you from across the table, you kick his shin in response, sending his hands flailing to the injury, mumbling some cuss word you don’t understand.

“Yeah,” You only muster out a whisper, handing over your pencil to the boy, who finds your behaviour a little off but nonetheless, doesn’t comment on it.

And while he explains the solution and working to find the value of X, you can only notice his eyes, his nose, the mole under his lips, the scar on his cheek from when he fought with your brother years ago, his lips.

And then you for yourself to snap out of your daydream when his eyes lock with yours in confusion as to why you’re staring at him instead of your workbook.

03 January 2012

But then five months later, opportunity for valentine’s day didn’t even come for you anyways, as you pack your bags to move miles away from the place you once called home, since your father had been posted to a new country for his work.

The whole idea of leaving your life behind and all the people you’ve ever known since young was such an overwhelming feeling that you didn’t even think once about your feelings for Jungkook anymore, or maybe you did once, but it didn’t matter.

So when you tugged your luggage and watch your brother sadly hug his best friend goodbye at the airport, reality struck, you wouldn’t ever get a chance to even properly assess your feelings for Jungkook anyways, so you simply wave him goodbye, not looking back so you don’t think further than a goodbye.

He did make sure to exchange his Instagram and Facebook with you, promising you and your brother to keep in touch, which you agreed to. Maybe there was a part of you that wanted to cling onto the idea of him, but you didn’t let yourself believe that anyways.

[puckpocketed]

who is #43?

Hello !! First off thank u for visiting. If you clicked read more by accident rip sorry it’s a lot of text. ENJOY!!! <3

1. This was the photo reference I used. I really did mean it when i said he photographs well!! I really like how scrungly he looks at times lol. v paintable

2. here’s a timelapse for your viewing pleasure in video + gif form <3

3. Process breakdown below. I am not formally trained, so don’t take any of this as professional advice!! The way i paint has been compared to channeling some evil contract with a demon also. So um . Im saying that i dont remotely think that this is efficient or correct, its just whats comfortable for me <3

3a) the dreaded lining phase. I have 2 modes of operation when it comes to painting - either i go full-dick with fancy inking/sketching + cel shading (rare, unrefined, haven’t figured out a nice workflow yet) OR i do a very very basic chicken scratch set of lines like so:

It’s less about being realistic here and more about laying down some guide lines for the chaos ahead. If i thought i could get away with it, I would start every rendered painting i do with laying down colours — but unfortchh ive tried that before and it usually ends in really weird proportions. Even with the lines i still need to make adjustments. This is something no people except me would notice but look at the above sketch; the eyes are too big and slightly too far apart, the forehead is too small and thus the hair is also not quite big enough… I have a bad habit of drawing eyes too big on faces, they’re my favourite facial feature to draw.. i barely resisted giving him big cow eyelashes (I love big cow eyelashes… all of my OC’s and most of my more stylised fan art of characters get big cow eyelashes… god…. Big cow eyelashes SAVE ME……….)

Anyway. Structure of the face + hand somewhat established. <3

3b) Underpainting!! Okay stay with me here . Ever since i figured out i dont have to paint in 03925893853 different layers, I’ve joyfully painted on 1 layer as much as possible. I dont have the brain power all the time to be managing layers so I simply dont work with that many layers. For this painting, the skin in its entirety was painted on one layer, the hair on another layer, and the effects on the last layer. There was a placeholder background off-white/grey colour for a while there, and I duplicated the line layer — one for figuring out where to lay colours, and one hidden for later so i could check back to see how accurate to the sketch/proportions were to the actual painting. 6 layers, 2 of which i painted the bulk of the piece on, 1 more at the end.

3c) here’s where I started carving out features. I think about objects in terms of volumes and light rather than lines. i love painting and sculpting because of this!! Here you see where I’ve begun to define his features — his eyelids, his bags, his nostrils. Just refining what was there before. The suggestion of facial hair before i gave it up and left it for later (his face is so naked the WHOLE time)

3d) nose bridge highlight, suggesting his eyebrows, a cheek highlight. A touch more coral red and muted yellow pull away from the grey/blue underpainting. Strategically leaving some of it peeking through.

3e) i truly start messing with the fidelity of his features here. Red lipstick <3 and some violet/blue for shadows on the right side of his face.

3f) the part where it starts looking like q.hughes to me (though, my friend said i got his vibe pretty early on which is such a compliment.. waaaaa…..) I love this part of every painting i do. I know it’s definitely not the Correct order since other parts of the entire painting are simply Not Rendered or Done, but whos gonna stop me?? :3

I love love loveeee painting faces. Adding the little shinies to his eyes + lips + upper lip + nose … you don’t know how much of a difference it makes until you do it. Also i snatched his eyebrows

3g) i really pushed the red/coral/ochre/orange here. Note the yellow highlights on his cheekbones, the forehead, and the thin thin line of pink right between where his bottom lip ends and his chin shadow starts <- very important . To ME!!!!!!! Also highlighting his waterline and adding his lashes was so so fun <3

3h) FACIAL HAIR!!! And I started rendering his hand. Some micro adjustments made to his face for proportion check.

3i) i start painting his hair in earnest and realise his forehead is too small so i make the adjustment. I really love how it falls into his eyes in this photo. <3

3j) i make some final adjustments to his eyes — a bit smaller, closer together. And i refine the outline of his jaw, push the stylisation of it just a little.

3k) Finishing details; his flyaway hairs, his moles, a bit of texture on his face, shadows cast by his hair, his little forehead cut <3

3l) i adjusted his hand here, added more texture to his skin, refined his hair a tiny bit more, and made the decision not to fuck around painting his jersey because i wanted the focus to be his face <3

3m) Canucks blue and green. Captain at 23. His form bleeds into the background. He is the franchise.

theee most fun ive had painting anything. and i finally feel... warmed up? if that makes sense. art for me is like. if i dont do it in a while it feels like nothing goes right when i come back to it. i hate that feeling, and the most difficult hurdle to clear is letting myself feel that until i get back into my Zone. after all this time i feel like im BACK !!!!!!!

i loved painting this fella. hes SO Shaped. <3

Apologies i simply do Not have the energy to write the alt text for all of these so i hope the little blurbs are okay aslkjasdklj. i gotta post and go to bed . if u made it this far, thank you for reading!!

[kiame-sama]

what twst yanderes do you think could share? I think there are definitely several that could team up!

Warnings; Yandere Relationships, poly relationships, multi-yandere relationships, I already have way too many OC ideas with different backgrounds that fit with the different yandere groups,

~~~~~~~~

Full House: All Named Heartslabyul characters. Each of the card suits are represented (Ace- Hearts, Deuce- Spades, Trey- Clover/Clubs, Cater- Diamonds) and paired with the Queen card (Riddle- Hearts) you have a full-house in terms of poker.

Poisonous Beauty- Vil and Rook already seem to be in a mutually respectful and beneficial type relationship that pushes both to work on themselves and hold themselves accountable. Throw a darling in the mix and they will share beautifully.

Lion Tamer- Leona and Rook share a darling. The Lion and the Hunter both sharing a sweet little lamb between them. Leona has shown a certain level of respect for Rook and Rook already stalks Leona for the thrill of it.

Dragon's Hoard- All of Diasomnia's named characters. Main yandere is Malleus who insists darling is his mate. He is kind enough to share with his retainers and teacher, but darling is mainly Malleus' prize. Lilia is more of a mentor to the group but does enjoy a quick tryst now and again with darling, the most experienced of the group.

Monster Mash- Leona and Malleus. This only works because of darling, otherwise they will be fighting and wanting the other dead. Truly it is only because darling can tame and diffuse the tempers/prides of the monster men to actually get them to get along. Have a harder time sharing given their dislike for one another.

Sea Monsters- Azul and the Twins sharing a darling between the three of them. The twins already respect and listen to Azul, so Azul is giving them a 'bonus' by allowing this little triangle of sharing when it comes to darling and darling's time. The twins often switch between darling and Azul so both are protected at all times. Floyd likes spending more time with darling than Azul but that is because darling is more fun and squishy. Jade adores his time with darling but understands his skills are better suited for being around Azul. Azul will always set aside time to spend with darling and is happy to include the twins during this time.

Octo-charmer- Azul and Jamil. Both have an underhanded way to manipulate others and have a tendency to be patient enough for the long game. These two working together for a mutual darling would be rather dangerous and impossible to stand against. Both brilliant in their own right, they could share a darling with minimal bickering.

Hyena Charmer- Jamil and Ruggie. The Masquerade special at Nobel Bell College made it clear Jamil and Ruggie have a similar approach to handling situations so I think they could make a good partnership when it comes to sharing a darling.

King of Beasts- Leona and Ruggie. They already have a mutually beneficial relationship in how Ruggie mostly puts up with Leona's behavior and Leona in turn protects Ruggie as his second in command. They could share a darling, but Leona would still get the lion's share of the benefits.

Golden Sands- Jamil and Kalim. I am loathe to put them together given the fact that I feel Jamil deserves his own darling after years of dealing with Kalim, but Jamil and Kalim would make a good yandere pair. Darling would likely prefer Kalim's affections given Kalim is less likely to punish darling, but Jamil could also use Snake Charmer on Darling to make them prefer him instead.

Historic Cruelty- Divus and Mozus. Trein is much more patient and lenient with darling as he is in his 50s and he just wants a settled down beloved that he can spoil. Divus is more of the punishment/reward type for whenever their shared darling acts up or gets rowdy as he is in his late 20's/early 30's and is content to be a brat tamer. Both want to spoil darling and are willing to do their own thing to get the results they desire from their beloved.

Elder Fae- Lilia and Crowley. Both are older fae (I'm just assuming on Crowley's part given his features and age/temperament) and both are more eccentric when it comes to how they interact with the world. They could contentedly share a darling together given their attitudes and tempers. Lilia would actually be the main enforcer of rules despite his more exciteable temper as he still has that paternal experience and put his foot down on certain behavior. Alternatively, Lilia is also the one who spoils darling more due to Crowley being a penny-pincher more stringent on funds. The relationship is more focus on Lilia as far as actual relationships go and the frequent interruption from Crowley wanting attention. It works for the two Fae.

Father Crow's Staff- Platonic yandere team-up of the staff looking after Crowley's offspring. Divus is the father that stepped up when Crowley failed to be a good father. Trein is the adoptive grandfather. Sam is the adoptive older brother. Vargas is the adoptive fun uncle. Even the fire fairies and ghosts try to have a hand in protecting/raising Crowley's young. They will be raised in NRC given Crowley is Headmage and lives there most of the time. Probably more protective of a fem-aligned darling than masc-aligned given NRC is an all male school (minus darling) and that means the child needs to be protected even more from untoward students. Lilia is a constant problem as he frequently tries to adopt this little up-and-coming Fae child given how little Crowley actually parents them.

[sorchathered]

Sacred New Beginnings- Chapter 10

A/N- Holy cow yall we are finally here! Our last chapter of this series, but not the end for Jake and Stormy! I will be checking in here and there, I have some one shots planned for them in the future and I’m excited for you guys to see how things have been going for them. Again thank you all so much for the love, I will always have a special place for this series since it’s my first baby. I want to give a massive shout out to @mamachasesmayhem for being my cheerleader from the very beginning of this series, proofreading for me and helping me brainstorm when I couldn’t push through the writer’s block. You have been amazing and I love you!! 😘

Pairing- Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader (oc Stormy)

Warnings- language, PTSD, smut

It had been a little over a week since you showed up at Jake's doorstep, he still couldn’t believe that he’d finally gotten what he wished for. Waking up next to you every morning, getting to commute to work together, sneaking off to hook up during lunch, it was all so much more than he could’ve hoped for. You were so damn happy, you and Viper had integrated seamlessly into your new squad, some people like Harvard and Omaha you already knew but there were new players as well and everyone had been so welcoming. You had kind of dreaded running into Bradley and Erin but even that seemed to go well, they had welcomed their son Nicky a few months after your accident and he was now a full blown toddler, the spitting image of his father. Both of them had been friendly, Bradley welcoming you back and Erin saying she was so happy you’d recovered, you knew they truly meant it and graciously accepted their words.

Jake maintained that you were a saint but really it was just that you hadn’t truly loved Bradley, at least not in a way that would’ve lasted. Neither of you had been compatible, and it was so easy to see now that you’d been with Jake for nearly two years; when it was truly meant to be it was unlike anything else mattered but the one you loved, and you couldn’t imagine life without Jake beside you. The ring in the top of his closet seemed to mock him every day, he wanted it to be absolutely perfect but nothing seemed good enough for his girl, so he let it sit untouched for yet another week as he took you out to the arcade on Friday for what had quickly become a weekly date night.

You had put a bunch of ideas in a jar the week before, told him to shake it up and pick one and off you both went on whatever adventure was scribbled on the tiny note, tonight was burgers and laser tag and while he’d joked that he was too old for that he had been the one hunting you down to shoot you as he cackled, maybe he just needed to be reminded that things didn’t always have to be so stressful because he couldn’t remember when he’d had this much fun.

After a lazy Sunday beach day and dinner on the grill he’d curled up with you on the couch with a movie, you’d meant for things to be innocent but he smelled so good and you found yourself turning in his arms to sling your leg over his hip, making out with him like you were a pair of teenagers. He fucked you slow and steady into the leather couch while the movie droned on in the background, his mouth slotted against yours as his hands roamed your body, you loved to joke how insatiable he had become since you moved in but you knew you were just as gone for him, too many nights had been spent apart and now having him in close proximity all you wanted was to make him feel good. You both came undone together as you whispered I love you into his neck, and all Jake could think of was how perfect his life had become.

Monday morning before he’d even had his coffee he’d gotten a text from Maverick to head to Cyclone’s office as soon as he got in, he immediately felt his stomach drop just thinking of what that meant. Deployment, for who knows how long and who knows where, and ultimately having to say goodbye to you again after he just got you back. He couldn’t bear to say anything to you until he knew for sure, so he went through the motions business as usual as you both ate breakfast and headed to work, kissing you a little longer than normal before you parted but you didn’t seem to notice anything off, promising to meet him for lunch with a wink and kisses blown in his direction. His feet felt like lead standing outside of Admiral Simpson’s office, he knew nothing good was coming from this meeting and when he entered he could tell by the look on his face that it was exactly what he thought. “How long?” He said as Mav handed him his papers, he could feel the lump forming in his throat and wanted out of this room as soon as possible. “Nine weeks son, I’m sorry Jake I know Y/N just got here, but you’re the best for the task and if I could I’d let you stay. She’ll be alright, I’ll keep an eye on her, you just do the job and come home safe.” Jake nodded and shook his hand, bailing from the room as soon as he could, he swiped his phone open and dialed you as fast as he could, but he couldn’t seem to catch his breath and when you answered he was full blown panicking, choking out to meet him by the truck and hanging up as he collapsed into the seat of his f-150. He wasn’t ready to go, you’d only been back in the air for a few months and now he finally had you here where he could take care of you, why couldn’t someone else have been picked?

You’d run across the lot to find him with his head in his hands in the front seat, wrenching the door open to wrap your arms around him, anything to help him regulate his emotions. He finally seemed to settle his breathing, relaxing into your arms while you stroked his sandy hair and kissed his cheeks. “What’s going on baby? You’ve got me scared now, did something happen with your family? Is your mom ok?” He squeezed your hand and passed the papers off to you, you knew exactly what it meant and you felt cold all over. This was the job, and while you both loved it you hated this part more than anything. He would miss all the major holidays together in your new home, your heart broke a little at having to celebrate Christmas without him and he let you curl into his arms and cry.

He only had a week from getting his papers to shipping out and it felt like the time was speeding away from him and he couldn’t catch it. He’d been adamant that the two of you update your wills on Tuesday and you had vehemently opposed it, he was stressing a little too much for your liking and it left you unmoored. Deployments were a part of this life, and yes you’d had a serious scare this last time but that didn’t mean he needed to become doom and gloom over it, you were worried about his mindset going into this, he needed a clear head if he had any hope of getting through this unscathed.

Wednesday night he was meticulously going through his packing list, gear spread all over the living room when you stepped into the house with take out, the vein in his forehead that only came out when he was angry seemed to be a permanent presence as of late, he was all furrowed brows and tense shoulders and you couldn’t take it for one more minute. “Jacob Thomas Seresin!” You called from the kitchen and he snapped his head to attention, he hadn’t even noticed you had gotten home until you shouted, looking across the room to find you with a pizza box in one hand and you completely stripped to nothing as you leaned against the doorframe. You sauntered over to where he sat cross legged on the floor, dropping the pizza box on the coffee table as you lowered yourself onto his lap, he was already getting hard for you when you pressed your bare pussy to the front of his gym shorts, his face going completely blank, no sign of that pesky forehead vein in sight.

“Fuck Stormy what are you doing baby? I gotta get this-“ he stopped short with a gasp as you ground yourself into him as you yanked a little roughly on his hair, pulling his face to yours and sloppily licking into his open mouth, he seemed to short circuit for a moment but recovered quickly as he wrapped his arms around your bare torso and kissed you back with fervor. Yanking his head back again to look up at you he blinked glazed emerald orbs at you, you were frustrated with him, he could see that now but he couldn’t focus enough to ask with you on top of him like this, he thought about asking but thought better of it when you reached down and took his length from his shorts, thoughts scattering all over again when you got up on your knees and sunk down on him, you still hadn’t said anything but he couldn’t be bothered anymore, whining out your name as you took him to the hilt with your warm center clenching around him. You nibbled on his lip and rubbed your nose along his as you wrapped your arms around his neck and you could feel the tension leaving him as you held him close, you knew he’d needed it as much as you, just the closeness of your bodies pressed together was enough to soothe whatever had been ailing both your minds.

“I’m going to sit here with you just like this until you calm the fuck down and tell me what’s got you so amped up, you’ve been like an exposed nerve ever since you got your papers and I can’t let you leave like this. You’re scaring me Jake, you can’t leave for a mission distracted you know better than that. You’re the best pilot I’ve ever seen and they picked you to head this op. You have to tell me what’s going on, you just have to!” You cried out as tears began to pour from your eyes, your throat felt raw with the emotion bubbling out of you and you began to shake in his embrace, the combination of being so full of him and revealing your worry almost too much. He seemed to jolt out of whatever trance he’d been in at your tears, swiping at them as they ran down your cheeks and kissing you hard, he knew he’d been distant and stressed couldn’t begin to describe how he’d been feeling, but he hadn’t even thought about himself and how it could affect the mission; all his worries had been solely focused on you.

“Oh baby I’m so sorry, shh hey I’m here ok? I’ll tell you all of it, just don’t cry sugar. I can't stand knowing I hurt you.” He was kissing every bit of your face he could get to, smoothing his hands all over you as you began to come down and regulate your breathing. You couldn’t be closer if you tried and yet he still felt so far away, you needed more so you latched on to his mouth and tightened your arms around his neck, he let you ground yourself and calm down, just breathing you in until the tears finally stopped. “Baby, baby I love you so much, I’m sorry” he murmured against your lips, you nodded and sniffled a little but didn’t loosen your grip, rocking into him slowly knowing he’d know what you wanted. He groaned low in his throat and flipped the two of you over as he pressed you gently into the carpet, letting the hot languid kisses burn the two of you up, all heat and bodies grinding into each other, letting all the stress go and just being hopelessly in love.

Hours later after you were both fully sated and relaxed you laid naked in his arms and ate the cold pizza while he let out all the words he’d kept bottled up. “It hadn’t ever occurred to me that we could lose this, I mean our job is dangerous sure but some naive part of me just thought we were untouchable.”

“Until I got hurt” you said quietly.

“Until you got hurt. It felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under me, every dream I’d ever had of us and our future could’ve been gone in an instant and I am terrified that something could happen to me and I’d leave you here alone.” He tightened his grip on your waist and you pressed a kiss to his chest, you knew exactly how he felt because you’d felt it all as you fell out of the sky during your ejection. But he couldn’t live in fear, it made him a liability to his fellow pilots and he was too damn good at what he did to let this destroy his confidence.

“You have to have faith baby, faith that you’ll make it through, that I’ll make it through and that we will get that long happy life that we want. I’m not going anywhere Jake, and I need you to be my cocky asshole pilot who thinks he’s God’s gift to the navy. Go be a badass and come home to me.”

You both laughed at that, he’d grown so much from that dickish holier than thou douchebag he had been when you first met, he was so much more level headed and mature. He promised he’d fight like hell and you knew he would.

The missions were grueling, the weather had been miserable lately and it made drills almost impossible, intel was scarce and worst of all he hadn’t been able to hear your voice in weeks. He had missed Halloween and thanksgiving, both squads had joined up for a potluck and you’d sent him a bunch of pictures, he was just grateful you weren’t doing this alone. He had gotten an email from his mother earlier in the week hoping he could talk to you about staying for the Christmas holidays and he couldn’t think of a better place for you to be. You loved Christmas, it used to annoy him because it wasn’t his cup of tea but somehow you’d softened him to it. He wrote to her quickly to tell her it was a great idea and to give you a call, when he’d had a knock on his door. Fritz leaned in with a look he knew all too well, it was time to fly out. He emailed you as well, telling you he loved you and then grabbed his gear and headed for the tarmac, he could only hope he’d be able to execute this and get home safely.

You stepped off the plane in Austin on December 18th to the entire Seresin clan in the lobby, Jake’s sisters and mom rushing forward to wrap you up in hugs and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this kind of love, probably not since your grandmother had passed nearly a decade before. She would have adored Jake and his family, they spent the holiday season showing you all over town, hitting up all of Jake’s old haunts and embarrassing family pictures. Movie nights and Christmas cookie bake offs, family dinners and shopping trips with the girls; it had been so much fun and the Seresin’s had welcomed you with open arms, it felt like somehow you belonged here, the only thing missing was your 6 foot sandy blonde dreamboat boyfriend.

Correspondence had been spotty with Jake for a while, you’d gotten a FaceTime call after a mission and he had seemed grim, they’d lost a teammate to enemy fire and the weather had been abysmal, almost everyone had come down with the flu and he was miserable. He said he hoped he’d make it home by mid January and your heart broke all over again at not getting to spend Christmas together in your home, but he was adamant that the best place for you was with his family, and that next year would be a big blowout, he even agreed to let you buy any and every inflatable you wanted to cover the yard in Christmas cheer.

What you didn’t realize was that he was already on his way back to Coronado, he had coordinated with Phoenix to help him turn the house into a Christmas wonderland and would be back just in time for you to get home. He couldn’t let the ring sit any longer, he needed it on your finger now. After too many hours covering his house from top to bottom in snowflakes and Christmas lights, it was finally time for your plane to land. He was so nervous, he knew he didn’t have any reason to be, Javy had kept him up to date on when your plane landed and when he picked you up. Jake could barely sit still, so full of nervous energy knowing what was to come. Finally, he heard Javy’s truck pull into the drive and watched through the blinds as he helped you gather your luggage, even in leggings and his old UT Austin sweatshirt you looked like you’d stepped off a runway in his eyes, every bit his dream come true. This was it, when you came through the door he’d finally get to make you his forever, it had all been worth the wait.

Epilogue (Lover)

Jake Seresin masterlist

🏷️ Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @bobgasm @attapullman @kmc1989 @pinkdaisies9285 @seitmai @seitmai-too @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @mygyn @jessicab1991 @jostan456 @86laura11 @dempy @shanimallina87 @floydsglasses @dizzybee03 @its-the-pilot @nouis-bum @roosterforme @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer

[yourlocalbadgerscales]

”If I could draw I’d draw fanarts!”

“If I could draw I’d draw my OCs”

“If I could paint I’d paint all the ideas in my head and become rich!”

If I could draw and paint I would completely erase this portrait of J.K Rowling in a book from my childhood, and draw a picture of Imane Khelif there instead.

This is my copy and it’s in Swedish, btw.

The original title of this book is Good Night Stories For Rebel Girls 2. It’s the second book out of two. This is the first one.

These two books were my childhood. Do you have any idea how empowering it is for a young girl like me, feeling alone in a world that seems to become crueller by the day, a girl who feels unheard by adults, to read these kind of books? I have plenty other books like these, too! These were my two favourites.

Two books filled with strong, powerful and cool women who have changed the world in one way or another! Reading these books inspired me so, so much as a little girl. I couldn’t get enough of these two-page stories about women who were brave and stood up for what was right. Women from so many different countries and backgrounds. It was beautiful. These books were how I found out about most of my biggest idols today: Malala Yousafzai, Greta Thunberg, Anne Frank, Emma Watson etc.

As I said, these books are my childhood. Another series of books that played a huge part of my childhood are the Harry Potter books.

As a little kid, I had no idea about who Joanne truly was. All I knew was that she was an author, and I dreamed about becoming an author one day. And Joanne had written one of my favourite series of all time. Of course I looked up to her! I especially remember looking at the drawing of her in Good Night Stories For Rebel Girls 2, admiring it very much.

I have grown up. I still love Harry Potter, the series played a massive role in my childhood and it’s been there to comfort me in my hardest times. But I do not support the author, now that I’ve heard about and read the tweets she has made about trans women. It’s disgusting, what she’s said about trans women in the past, what she still says, and what she’s tweeted about Imane Khelif recently… I’ve knows for years now what she’s all about.

It hurts, you know. As a member of the LGBTQIA+ community, it hurts to know that the series I love so dearly, the series that always makes me feel better, is written by a person who has no respect whatsoever towards half of my friend group and other trans people. None. She is a horrible human being, and it hurts to know that.

Knowing that her face, her name and her story is written in yet another book in my bookshelf, that her presence is constant in my room, makes me sick to my stomach and has done so for a long time now. Ever since I remembered a while back that she’s in this book, this wonderful book about women who have made the world a better place and continue fighting daily, women I look up to so much… I’ve had this sick feeling in my stomach, because she does not belong in this book. She isn’t a feminist. She excludes trans women from womanhood and accuses cis women of being trans or intersex based on their strength and talent in sports. Based on a supposed high level of testosterone? Joanne is cruel, and she’s rude, and she is not a person kids should be taught to look up to. Not after all she’s done.

Earlier today, I was thinking about this again. And as so many times before, I wished that I myself was a talented artist. This is something I’ve thought about before, but for different reasons. I’ve always wished I could draw portraits and pretty paintings. Fanarts for my favourite ships that I can only picture in my head but not transfer to paper. I’ve always loved drawing, but I’ve never been too good at it. Now I desperately wish that I was.

Because if I was a talented artist, I would grab my pens and paint and brushes, and I would cover up the portrait of J. K Rowling in my book. I would make a whole new portrait in its place, a portrait of another woman I look up to, a strong and beautiful and brave woman. A women called Imane Khelif.

And I’d get rid of the page full of facts and stories about Rowling, I’d tear it apart and throw it away and replace it with the story of Imane Khelif, the one woman Rowling cannot tolerate because of her talent for boxing. I can write. I can’t draw, but I can write. I so wish I could do both right now, because if I truly could trust myself with fully remaking two book pages, I would do it without hesitation.

Imane Khelif’s story deserves to be told. J.K Rowling’s story deserves to be told with seriousness, and grief because of what she has become. This woman could have been a successful author and a beloved feminist, and she could have left it at that. Sadly, she chose a path of hatred and cyber bullying. She chose this journey for herself, and I am sorry for everyone who got their childhood ruined because of it. Heck, I’m sorry for her even, but I still know in my heart that she has no excuses for what she has done. I despise her.

Kids need to be warned about TERFs, not trans women.

Collage made by @thingsmk1120sayz (I will delete it immediately if you ask me to, love <3)

I stand by Imane Khelif. I stand by the girls who grew up to be strong and wonderful women, the women who made their childhood dreams reality and won medals in the Olympics, the women who became successful artists, the women who reached their goals and ended up writing bestseller books loved by generations.

I stand by them, and I love them. But I feel nothing but hatred and pity towards J. K Rowling. Fuck her twisted beliefs. Much love to Imane Khelif!

Edit: I would like to clarify, Good Night Stories For Rebel Girls 2 was released 2017. I have no idea when Joanne started spreading her transphobic views on social media. Feel free to educate me on reblogs and comments! Anyways, I don’t think that the authors of this book, Elena Favilli and Francesca Cavallo, meant to cause any harm by putting Rowling in their book. Either this was before Rowling started tweeting transphobic things, or the authors didn’t know about her being a TERF (I doubt the latter). So please don’t send any hate to these wonderful authors! If you want to send them questions regarding their books, I’m pretty sure you’re free to do so! xx

[draculasfavoritewife]

Hunted

Summary: Tatooine is a planet filled with old ghosts, and when one of yours rears its ugly head again, your Mandalorian takes matters into his own capable hands.

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence and minor OC death at the end. Allusions to hunter/prey roleplay and bondage, my voice kink makes a couple of cameo appearances. I the writer was particularly thirsty for Din Djarin the day I wrote this and thus take full responsibility for the results.

This is really one of the most blatantly self-indulgent things I've written, born of many long daydreaming sessions and my love for any episode where my man rubs elbows with the delightful and despicable denizens of the OG desert planet. I truly can't explain it, Tatooine Din™️ just hits me different, so please enjoy this very long fic about it.

*Translations of less common words/phrases in Mando'a at the end

You step into the crowded main street of the city, taking a moment to let all of your senses adjust to the stark difference. The last week or so has been spent on the ship in a cold vacuum, the gleaming blur of hyperspace and the steady thrum of engines a constant gentle halo in the background. It was nice, if a little quiet for your personal taste. Your partner certainly doesn’t talk much, and you tend to spend much of your time alone with him less conversationally inclined as a result.

He’s rubbed off on you that way. 

Now the twin suns of Tatooine scorch down on you from above, making eyes that have become accustomed to soft darkness sting. A throng of street vendors, lowlifes, and ne’er-do-wells streams through the ragtag market on all sides, moving bodies chattering nonstop in floods of Basic, Huttese, Aqualish, Droid, and snatches of more exotic tongues. 

A moment, and you feel yourself suddenly at ease again, as your brain resets back to your old lifestyle in the Core Worlds. It feels like putting on a well-loved shaak-leather coat that remembers all your contours just right. 

“You look happy,” the Mandalorian observes from beside you. 

You always wonder about him, how he's actually faring under that helmet, so shiny in this harsh light that you come away with spots in your vision after glancing at him too long. Din walks with the easy confidence of a man that’s walked these alleys many times before, but you know him more personally than most. He’s a quiet man under that shell, one who vastly prefers his solitude and finds the company of most beings in the galaxy a soul-stealing chore after two minutes. 

And unlike you, he never relaxes. 

“I am.” You side-eye him, briefly admiring his prowling stride as he diligently scans the moving figures surrounding the pair of you. “Sometimes I really like big crowds.” 

“You’re crazy,” he remarks. “This many people add too many variables.” 

“Your comment stands.” You draw closer to him in order to reach into the satchel slung across his body and ruffle the Kid’s long ears. “But to me, it’s almost easier. I can usually read people’s intentions pretty well. Bodies speak louder in crowds.” 

“I suppose.” He hasn’t stopped his surveillance yet. You can guess at how his eyes are darting here and there beneath the visor. He probably has at least two escape routes planned out already, if not more. 

You want nothing more than to tell him to relax and enjoy himself — you’re not even here on hunter business, simply to refuel and stock up on supplies before your next run — but you know that’s a useless endeavor. 

“I found that strangely hot, by the way,” you say instead, since it HAS been taking up space in your mind for some time. 

“What?” 

“Finding out you speak Tusken. That’s VERY attractive.” 

It was. When he had to negotiate with the scouts on your way into town, you couldn’t deny the fluttering in your stomach at hearing his low, smoky voice bark out the harsh sounds as he supplemented his meaning with crisp sign language. 

And besides the sound of it, you certainly find it very hot for a man of his stature to be so willing and ready to communicate and settle fraught situations peacefully. 

“I — what — I don’t — ?” 

It still makes you grin, how easily flustered he is when you catch him off-guard with flirting. 

“Don’t you think so, Grogu?” You poke the Kid’s tiny nose. “Isn’t it attractive when your buir talks like that?” 

The little one squeals enthusiastically in response, probably more to your teasing than the actual question. 

“Stop that, don’t encourage her.” Din casts a disapproving look first at the Kid and then at you; it strikes you as funny how well you can translate such a simple tilt of the helmet. “And don’t you ask him that, he’s just a kid.” 

“I think you’re blushing under that bucket,” you smirk, sidling away. 

“I’m not.” 

You subside with the teasing for the time being, and the Mandalorian releases a sigh of relief as you start wandering, letting handmade jewelry and stoneware snatch your attention away from him. He’s getting better at keeping up with your rapid changes of interest, but somehow your more romantic moods still manage to get the better of him when you’re out in public. 

He blames the environment. When it’s just the two of you alone, he can see what’s coming in the slant of your lips or the way you suddenly decide to plant yourself right in front of whatever he’s working on. And he’s almost as likely to initiate now, so long as the Kid’s not in the same room. But out here, as his field of vision constantly shifts in the sea of bodies, and his right hand drifts between Grogu in his satchel and the pistol at his hip, he just doesn’t possess the bandwidth to also process what the kriff could possibly turn you on so much about his language skills. 

He tucks that particular piece of information away in a metaphorical corner, to dissect and possibly use at a later time. 

You return to him after your little side trip, flirtation seemingly forgotten for now. “I saw a ring at that one booth —” you gesture over your shoulder “— that I’m almost positive is dolovite. So pretty. I’m not even sure the vendor knows what he’s got. It’s tempting.” 

“I bet.” He notes the tone of your voice, the way you glance back one more time as the pair of you move on. 

“But we are here for the essentials, first and foremost. Maybe if it’s still there by the end of the day.” 

He nods thoughtfully, and listens as you ramble through the list of what the three of you need, both in terms of provisions and to keep the ship flying. 

The sooner you’re all able to leave this crowd and noise behind, the better. 

He doesn’t care for the feeling that his little clan’s safety isn’t completely under his control. 

Hours later, stewardship of the satchel carrying the Kid has passed over to you. Din carries the day’s purchases, slung from either end of the pole balanced across his wide shoulders. He watches affectionately from behind his immobile visage of beskar at the sight of you spiritedly haggling with a Twi’lek vendor over the price of fruit. The arm not being used to illustrate your point cradles Grogu, half-asleep, close to your torso, and it touches something deep inside him, to see you care for his foundling so naturally. 

The image almost — almost — lulls him into something resembling a dangerous sense of peace.

Almost, but not quite. 

Which is why, when the blaster bolt narrowly misses your shoulder and instead blows a crate of produce into a violently sticky explosion, he’s only a half-second slower than he normally would be as he pivots sharply and yanks out his own weapon. His shot drops the sniper leaning out of a second-story window across the street, a Rodian crumpling to the ground in a tangle of ragged cloak. 

His armor-clad body is positioned in front of you in another second, keeping you and the Kid sandwiched between the booth and his beskar as he rapidly searches for any more guns to rear their ugly muzzles. 

The market has dissolved into chaos around you, but no more fire is heard. 

You slip your DL-44 out of your back holster with one hand and push the satchel carrying Grogu further out of the way with the other. The road had cleared in seconds, the trembling fruit vendor ducking down behind his wares. The atmosphere is suddenly quiet, too many people holding their breaths all at once. 

“See anything?” you whisper to Din. 

“Negative,” he mutters back. “He was acting alone, or else the others have retreated. Looking for heat signatures is useless, they’re everywhere here.” 

A grim suspicion starts to rise in your chest, but you keep your voice removed as you step from behind him and give him a sharp nod. “Cover me? I need to take a look at our shooter.” 

He stalks behind you as you cross, your trigger finger settling into its well-worn spot in readiness. Grogu is silent; only the tips of his giant ears poke up from the top of the bag. 

For a kid, he’s been in enough firefights to know the drill by now. 

Arriving beside the smoking form of the Rodian, you flip him over and push aside the cloak, your hand drawing back when you see exactly what you were afraid you would find. 

The sigil of a sand ape emblazoned on his jacket in red. 

“Talk to me,” Din urges, voice tight. “Do you know why he was targeting you?” 

You straighten up and bite your lip for a second, struggling over the best way to break the news to him. You’d thought it was long enough ago that old scores would be forgotten, but on Tatooine, grudges rarely die, instead simmering deep beneath the filth like a krayt dragon awaiting its next meal. 

And now you’ve unwittingly brought your riduur and his ad’ika into danger. 

“I lived in Mos Eisley for a bit at one point.” You sigh. “And I left under…difficult circumstances. I’m a bit of a loose end as far as a local gang is concerned, Din. They paid well for some mercenary jobs — it was a nice temporary setup. Last hit I was hired for turned out to have a Guild bounty on him though, and they paid more to have him delivered alive. I saw a business opportunity and didn’t look back. But I made some powerful people here pretty angry.” 

“Dank farrik.” He curses under his breath. You can nearly hear his exasperated thoughts — can’t I have ONE uneventful outing? Just ONE? — but he shakes it off swiftly and is soon all business again, his next query clipped and brusque. “Does he have a tracking fob?” 

You shake your head. “They don’t want Guild here anymore, if you recall. No, it’ll be a more intimate affair, I’d bet my blades on that. This is about revenge and closure; if there’s a reward payout it’s from the boss man himself, and probably only advertised by word of mouth.” 

The Mandalorian refocuses his thoughts from where they ever so briefly derailed at your casual misuse of the term “intimate affair” and grunts his acknowledgment. “I gather the boss man wants you alive, then?” 

You laugh, a dry, ironic sound. “Oh, he will. I have a feeling he wants to watch me suffer a bit before he kills me. Or who knows?” With a shrug, you shove the body into an alleyway and return to where you both left your purchases, only the dance of your tense fingers across the grip of your blaster giving away your readiness to protect yourself. “Maybe he’ll make me his own personal slave instead. I knew all that club dancing I did would come in handy someday.” 

Din makes a hissing sound of annoyance at your flippant tongue as he follows. There’s something about the way you can talk so carelessly about such degrading fates that truly distresses him. He knows you don’t need his protection on the same level the Kid does, but the thought of either of those options actually befalling you under his watch makes his hands clench into fists, leather gloves protesting as they stretch across his knuckles. But he knows too, that dark humor is often your way of dealing with stress, so he endeavors to let it slide and not see red. 

“Do you know where he is?” he demands suddenly. 

“The boss man? I used to. And there are people I could ask.” You take the satchel with the Kid off and hand it back to him, opting to take the parcels instead. He can fight with a baby strapped to him better than you can, and knowing you’re the primary target this time, you’d rather keep him safer. “Why?” 

“Later.” His voice has gone tense again, he must have seen something you don’t. “Right now we have to get out of here. You’re too exposed.” 

Your gaze falls on a nearby speeder bike with no obvious owner nearby. “They’ve gotten lax without me around,” you smirk, straddling the bike and revving its powerful engine. “Leaving their valuables all helpless and unattended. It’s a real shame.” 

The Mandalorian is staring at you, the drop of his shoulders suggesting surprise at your brazenness. 

“Get on,” you encourage him, laying the carrying pole across the seat behind you. “You’re getting twitchy, so there must be trouble. What’s got your cape in a twist?” 

He takes a seat behind you and settles his pulse rifle across his knees. “There’s a couple more in similar jackets closing in,” he reveals in an undertone. “And I just haven’t seen you…steal a vehicle before, is all.” 

A shot pings over his helmet before you can properly react to that. 

“Drive!” he orders, pivoting to return fire. 

You oblige, gunning the motor and tearing off down the main thoroughfare. “There’s still a few things you haven’t seen me do, Cyare,” you toss back as he dusts one of the gang members on your way past. “You and the Kid made me go soft.” 

He huffs doubtfully and nods to a narrow opening between buildings up ahead. “Can you get us out of sight?” 

“If you hang on tight enough.” You execute a tight turn at the last moment and shoot down the alley, glad the bike is compact enough to follow the cramped tunnel between the crumbling dwellings. “It’s gonna be rough ’til we’re in the open, though.” 

Din doesn’t answer in words, but his free arm wraps around your waist and you can feel the Kid’s small body tucked between the two of you. 

And it’s almost an oddly pleasant feeling, outrunning any would-be pursuers with the two of them held so close. 

By the end of the hour, supplies have been loaded into the ship and Grogu has been left in the doting care of Peli, who as always is more than happy to entertain the little guy as long as you and Din keep trouble far away from her repair station. You and the Mandalorian are now camped out on a rooftop overlooking the marketplace, a tattered fabric canopy mercifully providing some scant relief from the sunlight if not the oppressive heat. As always, your riduur appears totally indifferent to such a thing as physical discomfort, leaning out from under the awning to scope the street below through the sight of his rifle. 

Does his armor have an internal cooling system? Or are Mandalorians really just that tough? 

“You know, we could just leave,” you finally suggest. “It’s not like this particular group ever goes off-world.” 

“We could.” 

You can tell there’s a reason why he won’t. 

“But I return to Tatooine semi-frequently. And I don’t want you to constantly be looking over your shoulder every time.” 

You sit back with a sigh, idly tuning up your blaster. His ways are still foreign to you sometimes. Before your partnership, you made a life depending on adaptability and quick thinking. Having only yourself to worry about, and knowing there was no one else out there worrying about you, made it easier to simply uproot and go elsewhere whenever the heat was on you. 

Din is nearly the opposite. If there’s a way he can make things more secure for those in his care, if there’s a good enough reason, he won’t ever back down from a struggle.

He already has his mind made up. 

It’s just a bit jarring to realize that you’re the good enough reason this time. 

“What are you thinking, then?” you prompt. 

He doesn’t break his focus on the area below as he answers. “I’m thinking I just killed a couple gang members and got some interesting information out of them. I’m ex-Guild and looking for work, and being a ruthless mercenary, I might just be willing to turn on a crew member if the price is right.” 

You can’t help your sudden intake of breath at his ingenious plan. “And once we get there?” 

He finally turns to face you, his next words cold and hard as tempered beskar. “Then we kill him.” 

And there’s something a little bit more menacing in there than simple pragmatism. He has taken on the role of cabur for you and the Kid; this isn’t just about keeping trouble off your backs in future. 

Someone has threatened you, and he will not rest until that threat has been put down.

That is his duty, and he will not shirk it. 

“I love you,” you murmur, barely above the hot breeze that rakes through your hair. 

He rises to his feet, shoulders his rifle. “And I you. Which is why we’re going to have to make this look convincing. You get a two-minute head start. Whenever you’re ready.” 

You swipe a dull sand-colored cloak from a stall as you pass, immediately diving into the heart of the throng, which seems to have recovered from the earlier incident. Mos Eisley is nothing if not desensitized to crime and violence, and for a moment, you almost lose yourself in awe at the apathy of the average citizen as you let the flow of movement carry you along. Nobody cares what happens around here, so long as it doesn’t happen to them. 

It’s…odd, to remember how it felt to think that way. 

Shaking yourself back into the moment, you weave between beings of all shapes and sizes, focusing on making yourself forgettable and not appearing in too much of a hurry. You know Din will find you no matter where you end up — he’s just too good at his job not to. So for the moment you let yourself enjoy this little game, a moment spent as the quarry of a very desirable predator. 

It would be a lie to say you haven’t fantasized about this before. 

A ripple passes through the crowd to your left and behind you, people shifting to make room, like river currents split by a large stone. Only one person you know could possibly cause such a stir.

Only idiots choose to stand in the way of a hunting Mandalorian. 

Which means he’s here. 

Your heart accelerates and you try to think of a way to stall him just a little longer. Reluctantly pulling a few credits from your belt pouch, you regretfully let them scatter in the dust, knowing the only thing that reliably beats fear is greed. The people nearest to you devolve into pushing and shoving in their eagerness to get their hands on them, a writhing wall springing up between you and your pursuer. 

With a grin, you slip backwards, drifting in the opposite direction of where you had been headed before, catching the barest glimpse of sun glaring off metal as you pass. 

That's a little longer. 

He’ll expect you to be thinking the way he thinks, not the way you do, so you stamp down the inclination to think that way and instead travel into a seedier part of town, seeking out more raucous company. Wandering through cantinas and gambling dens, you pick up a refreshing blue milk along the way and almost start to let the tension ebb from your muscles. But when you see him emerge from the street and gaze through the window of the same building you were just about to exit, your adrenaline shoots up again. A dash through a maze of alleys and one stolen ride on the back of a droid rickshaw later, and even you aren’t so sure what part of the city you’ve made it to. 

The twin suns are finally beginning to sink lower in the sky as you thoughtfully chew on a piece of bantha jerky and walk through a crowded residential section, no doubt where the lower classes live. It’s much quieter here, the low-income strata not having the credits to spend on frivolities at the market. 

It’s almost…too quiet. 

You hear him before you see him, an almost deceptively musical clink of the explosive charges on his belt against his vambrace as his arm brushes past. There’s nowhere to run anymore, so you pull back your hood with an admittedly dramatic flourish and discard your savory treat, hands sliding to the twin vibroblades sheathed at your thighs. 

“So, its finally come to this, Mando.” You pull your knives and take up a fighting stance. “No use in trying to sweet-talk you out of this, is there?” 

He doesn’t answer, just pulls his own blade and gestures with his chin as if saying “Try me”. 

So you do. 

The pair of you has sparred many times before, and this altercation is brief but outwardly brutal. Finesse is nice, but necessity calls for any potential advantage to be pressed and pressed hard. For the agility your much lighter choice of clothing grants you, you can’t dent him when fully armored, so finally you resort to simple but effective tactics and throw dust in his face. 

Even a visor with a heat sensor takes a second to recalibrate from that. 

You do, however, have a scripted ending for this outing, and as you sprint off, his grappling cable snakes around your hips and down your legs, dropping you in the sand. He strides up to you, tosses a pair of binders down next to you. 

“Cuff yourself,” he orders, breath coming in heavy pants after your scuffle. “I’m taking you in.” 

And since it’s him who just captured you, who would have captured you eventually no matter what because he’s just THAT good, you don’t mind. 

No, you reflect as he hefts you over his shoulder and walks away from the few scattered spectators your fight drew out, you really don’t mind this arrangement at all. 

Maybe you’ll have to tell him that, later. 

Your former employer’s headquarters are still where you remember them, and you almost smirk at the sense of uncomfortable familiarity when Din lowers you to the floor and unties your legs. Still cuffed — and a bit tired after spending the afternoon trying to outwit the best hunter in the parsec — it’s not difficult to look angry and beaten down, kneeling there in the dust. 

The boss man rises from his seat at the table, a hulking Devaronian with a chipped horn and a hungry grimace. He swaggers over, nods at the Mandalorian standing behind you. 

“I suppose I can turn a blind eye at the loss of a few good men for this. You have absolutely no idea how this one little troublesome scavenger has been occupying my thoughts.” 

Din remains silent, simply holding out a hand, a wordless demand for payment. 

Your old boss grins, nods to a couple of lackeys to bring over the credits, hauls you to your feet by the back of your shirt. 

The Mandalorian’s hand brushes past your leg as you move, and one of your knives is quietly returned to its sheath. 

“Since you turned tail and ran so quickly after disobeying me, I assume you have some idea of what I do to clever little turncoats, don’t you?” sneers the Devaronian, leaning altogether too close for your liking. 

Your cuffed hands lower in seeming fear as you shrink beneath his intimidating glare. 

“This is going to be fun,” he threatens, a hand drawing up your neck and along your jaw. “You need to learn some respect, and I’m going to —” 

The vibroblade sunk deep into his chest cuts his words off rather suddenly. 

There’s a lot you can still do, even in binders. 

The outraged lackeys are swiftly dropped by precise shots from Din, and the two of you are left gazing at each other in a now oddly quiet room. 

“I don’t know if I’d call that ‘fun’," you remark to your limp ex-boss, crouching to retrieve your knife. “A little anticlimactic, actually. Bit of a shame I had to do that. But also satisfying to see your plan turn out so well, don’t you think, Mando?” 

Din doesn’t answer right away, tucking away the bounty that he earned by catching you. “We should be on our way,” is what he finally grunts. “There’ll be more gang members swarming this place any minute now.” 

“I agree.” Rising to stand in front of him, you hold out your arms expectantly, casting a flirty smile up at his dark visor. “And, much as I enjoyed being your prisoner for a day, you can let me go now.” 

There’s a long pause. 

He stares down at your bound wrists, up at your face, down at your wrists again. He appears to be pondering something very intently, and your breath turns a little choppy for some reason. 

“I don’t think I will,” he says simply, after a little more consideration. 

“You won’t?” 

“Not yet.” His large hands tenderly find your hips, and he throws you over his shoulder again, walking out the exact same way you came in. “You’ve caused me quite a day here, you know. Keeping track of you like this might be the only way to make sure we don’t run into any more trouble.” 

“What would happen if I screamed ‘Help, I’m being kidnapped!’ as you carry me down the street?” 

He snorts. “No one’s going to help you here, Cyar’ika. Who’s going to challenge a Mandalorian over his prisoner?” 

You smirk. “No one in their right mind.” 

“Besides, you just said you enjoyed this.” There it is, a sly edge to his filtered voice, the indicator that he has more going on in his mind than simply staying out of more trouble. 

“Oh no, caught by an attractive bounty hunter! I’ll probably never see the light of day again.” You groan dramatically and drape yourself a bit more comfortably as he loosens up into an easier stride. “I’m completely at his mercy — who KNOWS what devious things he’ll do to me behind closed doors?” 

“This bounty hunter is hot and tired, and in need of a shower, if that gives you any consolation.” 

“Ah.” You poke him in the back. “Are you saying you’re all sweaty under this shiny shell, Cyare?” 

A hand slides up the back of your thigh, a subtle reminder that you ARE currently at his mercy, as you just said. 

Undeterred, you try again, knowing he must be getting more riled up than he lets on. “Have I ever told you how much I like it, when you take all these awful layers off for me and you’re all sweaty underneath…?” 

“I would rein in my suggestive tongue a little, if I were you.” He’s still looking straight ahead, but the edge beneath his words is a bit more strained now. “If you behave for me until we get back to the ship, maybe I’ll even take those binders off.” 

“And if I don’t?” 

He sighs. “My belt compartment back there. Take a look.” 

You manage to get it open, and can’t quite stifle a delighted sound as you pull out the dolovite ring from much earlier. “You sneaky son of a — ! How — ?” 

“I gave you a two-minute head start,” he shrugs, by way of explanation. 

“I adore you,” you inform him as you slip the ring onto your finger, admiring its burnished color. “I’ll be a good little prisoner for you, Mando, I promise. And who knows…,” you nudge him again. “Maybe I’ll let you keep these binders on me after all, since you’ve been so good to me today.” 

He can’t find anything to say to that, but by the fact that you can see the flush creeping up the back of his neck in that tantalizing gap between cowl and helmet, you know he’s definitely sweating now, if he weren’t before. 

“Is my big bad bounty hunter at a loss for words?” you tease softly. 

He clears his throat. “Just saving my voice, Mesh’la. If you’re REALLY well-behaved, I might — possibly — be persuaded to talk Tusken to you later. Possibly.” 

The idea takes a moment to fully crystallize in your brain; Din, and a shower, and binders, and if you just stop teasing him so naughtily in public he might actually bring that unreasonably provocative language into the bedroom? 

You finally let yourself relax into his hold, and after a bit you hear his breathy sigh of relief that you aren’t going to keep tormenting him anymore for the moment. 

After all, he has put forth an offer you can’t refuse. 

Ad'ika = Little One/Small child

Cabur = Protector

[galacticgraffiti]

☽⋆The Night Comes Down Like Heaven⋆☾

All credit for this beautiful artwork goes to @pinkiemme! If you don't already know and love her, go check out her stuff, and whether you do or don't already follow her, leave some love for her! She deserves all of it.

Summary: Sometimes, everything gets to be too much, even for Rex. On a planet of blood flowers, where else could he turn but to the night sky? Rating: General Wordcount: 2.2k Warnings: Angst, Self-Doubt, Rex has a panic attack, Rex doubts his self-worth and personhood, hurt that turns to comfort eventually, brotherhood between soldiers.

A/N: I know I've been pretty absent from the Star Wars fandom, and unlike most of my other fics this is not OC content nor a reader insert. This fic is a gift for and a collaboration with @pinkiemme, who is a wonderful friend and so beloved to me. Every day you inspire me, my love. Thank you for asking me to collab, I had the best time! ❣

͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

The Night Comes Down Like Heaven

Rex’s heart is beating way too fast. He knows that, his hands shaking and his breath too hot inside his bucket. But nothing helps, nothing calms him. Nothing can take away this feeling of being outside of his own body, and simultaneously being trapped inside himself.

Rex tries to breathe, but the weight on his chest just won’t let him; he is being dragged under, voices fading into the background when he should be focusing on them and not the abnormally loud rush of his own blood in his head.

Campaigns like this are always hard, the ones where he has to be away from base for a long time. Not that he ever had any place to truly call home - not even Kamino, even though that might have been the closest he ever came.

But campaigns like this are still harder, being deployed for months at a time without a break, no time to truly rest, no time where he ever gets to feel safe. 

Rex tells himself that he should be able to bear it, that he was designed for this, made for this.

It doesn't help: his heart still races and his hands still shake. The weight on his chest gets heavier, and the ringing in his ears unbearable.

Rex leans forward, clinging to the table where the Generals have set up a projection of the upcoming battle to talk it through. His knuckles must be white underneath his gloves from the force it takes him to stay upright, and General Skywalker’s concerned enquiry is just an indistinguishable mumble.

Rex feels like he might pass out just then, dark spots swimming in his vision as he desperately gasps for air beneath his bucket but his lungs just won’t fill.

“Excuse me,” he mumbles, abruptly leaving the war meeting. He knows General Skywalker is staring after him, he knows General Kenobi and Cody are looking at each other with furrowed brows. But if he stays here even one second longer, Rex knows he is going to scream and scream and never stop again until a blaster finally gets him.

It’s a miracle he is still alive, after all this. By all accounts, he should be dead a hundred times over. So many enemies, and they just keep coming. It never stops, never slows, not even when Rex feels like he could just… crumble to the ground if it only meant he got to rest.

So many vode have been lost. Too many, even though they were bred for this, made for this, engineered for this. They are not real - were never real - just like Rex is not real. Not a real man, not even a real soldier. Just a clone, one of millions, all of them with the purpose to die, and do it slowly, to keep the Republic on its last legs a little while longer.

Rex bites down on his lip until he tastes blood, feet carrying him away from the light, from the chatter, from company and everything else. Just… away. He walks fast until he reaches the edge of their encampment, and only then does he let his legs speed up, running and running, almost in full gear, helmet fogging up, but he can't get his feet to stop.

The Republic is dying, and Rex is dying either for it or with it. There is no other way. That is all there is for him, because that is all he was made for, and that thought tastes so bitter he gags.

Treasonous thoughts, these are. Thoughts he would be court-martialed for if he ever spoke them aloud, even if he has heard rumblings in the barracks that have never been reported. The vode are loyal, even more to each other than to the Republic they were made for. But all it takes is one weak link.

The threat of reprogramming looms over them eternally: a fate worse than death, where nothing is left of the old soldier as a new one is made from his flesh, no more than a blank slate.

They are all expendable, Rex has no illusions about that. No matter how soft General Skywalker's eyes go when he looks at him, no matter the way General Tano bumps-

Rex stumbles, nearly dropping to his knees. He has not been watching where he’s going, just walking, running, sprinting - escaping the endless rows of tents. Fleeing with no rhyme or reason, his heart too heavy in his chest as his feet thunder on the ground.

When he looks around, there is nothing as far as Rex’s eyes can see, not a soul, not a building. Just meadows and rolling hills, and the deep night sky. 

This planet could almost be beautiful if the flowers did not only bloom after blood had soaked the ground.

Rex double checks his surroundings with a heartbeat so fast his chest wants to break apart, but there is nothing and no one. He is really and truly alone, for the first time in weeks. Probably months. Maybe years- maybe ever.

That realisation hits Rex like a speeder train. Everything is too much: his body is not his own and he wants to shed it in this moment. He wants to cease existing in this way, and that is treasonous when it should be natural.

Rex lets himself drop to his knees, lets himself rip off his gloves and bury his fingers in the deep grass that surrounds him. And he lets himself scream. Scream into the void and the vast emptiness of the universe. Scream until his lungs give out, silent tears running down his cheeks and soaking the cushions of his buy’ce.

In the vastness of this universe, Rex is nothing. Not just nobody, but truly and entirely nothing. He is lost and without purpose, because his whole life means nothing in the grand scheme of things.

An old Mandalorian saying pushes through the heavy fog of anxiety that has settled on his thoughts, so pragmatic it nearly makes him laugh.

Ca’tra darasuum rohaka verd’an.

The eternal night sky defeats all warriors.

Rex almost tips over with the laughter that bubbles up in his chest. It falls off his lips like bitter pearls, but he cannot seem to swallow it down, and he can't breathe like this but it doesn't matter.

He can tell he is becoming hysterical, hiccups shaking him between laughter and tears, but he just can’t stop. Rex lets himself fall, and he lets himself feel. All of the emotions he has been pushing away, everything that has happened, all the little cracks in his armour, slowly eating through the Republic-issued plastoid until Rex just… falls apart. His cuirass is laying in the war tent with his General, Rex’s brittle heart exposed in the middle of a war zone.

And still, it’s not a shot from an enemy that brings him to his knees, it is the vastness of space looming above him, it is the hundreds of lightyears that lay between him and his fallen vode and it is the memory of Ahsoka’s small hand on his arm when they first met.

His protection is already frail, and there is nothing to be done about it. He is all alone, and without cover, with no back up and no weapon. And for once, Rex allows himself not to think about it as he takes off his buy’ce to look at the sky with his own eyes. The eyes of the man that he was made from, that are somehow still Rex’s own, made so by the things he has witnessed, by the bloodshed he has caused and the battles he has fought. Made so by the love he has been part of, and by the family he has found, most of them sharing those same brown eyes.

Rex lays back in the grass and stares at ca’tra darasuum, and he lets himself remember. The stars swim before his eyes as this blood-soaked planet slowly turns and turns, making its way around the centre of its universe. Rex lays between flowers born from the blood and the sweat and the pain of his brothers, and he feels so much that he thinks he will burst. Time passes like honey, and the sky is still dark when he is finally found.

Cody is like the sunrise, advancing slowly and then all at once, bathing Rex in his golden light even in darkness.

“Thought you couldn’t be far,” he mumbles as he crouches down next to Rex. “Guess I was wrong. Took me fuckin’ ages to find you, vod’ika.”

“This world is big,” Rex simply replies, with a voice rough from tears. “This world is so big, Kote. If we survive this, it won’t even make a difference. I look at the stars and all I see is cold indifference in the face of suffering and death.”

Cody cocks his head, and even through his dark visor, Rex can feel his brother's eyes on him. The sound of Cody’s voice is filtered through his helmet.

“Ca’tra darasuum rohaka verd’an.”

Rex laughs at that, a dry, humourless laugh. Nobody else knows what he is thinking the way Cody always does. Two generations of brothers, sometimes closer even than those from the same batch ever are.

“You know me too well.”

Cody scoffs.

“No such thing. Not when it comes to family.” He offers his hand to Rex. “Come on, vod’ika. You have been out here by yourself for too long already.”

“Nayc.” Rex shakes his hand. “Shebe ti’ni. Please. Just for a moment.”

Cody sighs deeply.

“I forget how young you can be sometimes.”

But he stays. He sits with his brother, in spite of everything, In spite of the war, the death, the pain that surrounds them every day and every night. Rex lays back again, while Cody keeps watch.

“The galaxy is so vast,” Rex says again, but this time, his voice is coloured not by sadness nor fear, but instead by awe. “Kote, if we get out of here alive… maybe we can be someone. Become someone. You know… the end of the war-”

“We don’t speak of the end of the war,” Cody interrupts him. “Cuyi verde, vod. Don’t fuck with me, you know this. We all know this. It's the truth that guides our path.”

Rex exhales. His breath forms little clouds in the cool night air, and something almost akin to peace washes over him. This is it. This is tangible proof that he is here, and he is real. Just like the grass beneath him, flattened by his weight. Just like the earth below, warmed by his body heat. Proof for his existence. He inhabits this galaxy.

“I have never asked for anything,” he says, and that makes Cody shut his mouth with an audible click. Rex smiles, sadness and fragile joy mixing on his features that are so much like Cody’s, but no matter how hard the Kaminoans have tried, have never been exactly the same. “I have never asked for anything, Kote. I have never had anything of my own, and I have been alright with that. But I’m asking you now. Let me have this moment, just a moment of peace and quiet. I am falling apart. Let me glue my pieces back together so I can hold on a little longer. Nakar’tuur mhi oyacyi akaanir ashi’tuur, isn’t that how the song goes?”

Cody goes very quiet and very still next to him. He does not respond, but when he takes off his bucket and sets it down next to Rex’s, Rex knows he has won.

“Look at the constellations with me, Kote,” he says, and in this moment, he is seven years old, tugging at Cody’s shirt sleeve and dragging him to the big skylight at Kamino, the one that never sees daylight in the eternal rain, on the one night of his life he can remember where no rain fell on Kamino. “Ta’raysholan verda, vod. They came before us, but we will outlive them. Let me dream of the end of our war before we die. Please.”

Cody smiles his crooked little Cody smile, the one that looks exactly like it did when they were children.

“War?” he says, and settles down on his back with his hands tucked behind his head, mirroring his little brother. “What war?”

Rex’s cheeks hurt from the smile that splits his face, and he lets himself bask in this moment of happiness. They are alive. They are here. He raises his hand to point out the first constellation they learned, way back when. Even though it looks all wrong, he would recognise it anywhere. Kamino seems a million lightyears away, and maybe it is. But the night sky still seems the same to him.

͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

Mando’a

vode - brothers buy’ce - helmet Ca’tra darasuum rohaka verd’an. - The eternal night sky defeats all warriors. vod’ika - little brother Nayc. Shebe ti’ni. - No. Sit with me. Kote - Glory (my own personal headcanon where the name ‘Cody’ comes from) Cuyi verde, vod. - We are soldiers, brother. Nakar’tuur mhi oyacyi akaanir ashi’tuur - Tomorrow, we live to fight another day. (Taken from my Mando’a lullaby) Ta’raysholan verda - A thousand warriors (also taken from that same lullaby - fuelled by the belief that dead soldiers become stars to watch over their fighting siblings).

͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

Taggies for the beloveds and a huge shoutout for @baba-fett, my eternal wonderful beta-reader who messaged me back within 2 seconds when i dropped the words 'rex angst' on her doorstep.

@purgetrooperfox @ashotofspotchka @daimyosprincess @deewithani @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @ulchabhangorm @sleepingsun501 @queen--kenobi @kik51199 @samspenandsword @ficsbynight @writingbylee @thefact0rygirl @wild-karrde @hayley-the-comet @rescuethewretched @equalityforcats @witchklng @ladykatakuri @certified-anakinfucker @mandoloriancookie @felinaone @rosieofcorona @savagemickey03 @amyroswell @supercalifragilisticprincess @palpipeen @idkwhatsgoingonwithme @dudewhynotthis @kimiheartblade

[literally-noone83]

Supernatural Headcanons: Receiving Affection (1/?)

About: female!reader×platonic!everyone, teenage/young adult reader, reader's love language is touch: hugging, hanging off the boys' shoulders, falling asleep on their shoulders and the like :) just wholesome things (with some angst).

Word count: It's a long a one...

Warning: Angst, Shouting, other than that it's just fluffy :)

A/n: This reallt isnt a head cannon tbh. Started with an idea, created an OC then a background and then and then and then — it spiralled into this mess haha.

I meant to go further - provide that conclusion to create a holistic narrative... but it's already really long and atm felt uninspired to keep going with it. So we wait, sorry !

Welp, enjoy!

Let's imagine your love language is touch. The crave and the lingering need to touch, hug, lean on, hold onto someone, some one you felt safe around and loved by was a instinct you've always had.

Surrounding yourself with some of the most emotionally stunted and constipated people — emotionally unavailable car, pie and ACDC loving hunter, his emotionally neglected brother and monotonous 'I don't understand the reason for handholds if you're not lost' angel boyfriend — your touchy feely nature was met half-heartedly.

Given the moment you first met them was amidst a series of tumultuously devastating events — one easy case turned bad, the loss of family was never easy on a adolescent. And for the most part that's all you were to them. Another poor young soul caught up in the cusp of a terrifying world Dean and Sam intended to protect. To save. It never came without consequence — it's just this time in came in the form of a teenager, tear stained and alone.

Dead of night, once the vampires who took your mother and little brother were resolved with a few knife swings and burning bullets — it was the embrace Sam offered that changed things.

You needed it. Solace, comfort. Something to keep you grounded.

The Winchesters would do more than offer a hug. Decisions and shots were called, arguments sure did occure — another mouth to feed, a head to look out for — but in the end life kept moving and this was all you had left; a reason, an opportunity, to help.

A Winchester. You were the rookie who could barely hold a gun. Then you were the amature that fought to fight; snooping for cases, sneaking out for a chance to shoot and to prove you can contribute. Couple years fly by and now you're family.

So many night spent trading stories, on the stupid shit Dean pulled and Sam moments of pubescent embarrassment among the pockets of normal school life, or your gems of memory with your mother you missed and a brother you had teased. The banter was rich on both ends — most prominently with Dean. It was just so easy. A grumpy old man who dished out the rules and stomped around with that voice of his — you couldn't help yourself.

*in Dean's voice* "Its too dangerous, me macho man will take care of it" *normal voice* "y'know I didn't realise you were one grey hair away from being my father..."

He lets out a humorless laugh, rubbing his chin and gesturing to you at Sam. "She thinks shes funny huh? youre real comedian— thats it!"

He chases you down the bunker and you run away. Deans yelling and your laughter ringing behind Sam.

Sam truly was enjoying to have someone on his side — till at times he wasn't so lucky. You and Dean were a little too powerful once you joined arms...

Amidst this new found family, Dean and Sam quickly noticed how much you liked to hug them... almost clingy.

Granted, it wasn't like you smothered everyone who walked into your life — with Dean and Sam it was different. They saved you, welcomed you, took care of you. You trusted them.

It qas noticeable during the early days of your stay. After long hunts when you were left behind, in security of the bunker, those hours felt like days and days felt like years. Crippling fear of losing the only formed tether of family and safety frightened you.

The moment the door clicked open, "Hey, Y/n, we're back," a bag of take out ready and jackets being torn off in lethargic movements of a day's struggle, "got some burgers and those curly fries as remembered and—"

Frantic steps and a leap, Dean was almost knocked down by the force of your hug. Wrapped around his neck, face buried in his collar. "Woah there, Kid." He stumbled and huffed from the suddenness.

"Y/n? you ok?" Sam asked at your long passing moments in embrace. Words of gladness and "Thank god"s poured from your lips, stepping back to look at how they're really here. Alive. Safe. The brothers noted it was probably because of your family — you were dealing and I think they are one of few people who could really understand that.

However, this passing moment became everytime. They'd come home and you'd hug them briefly. Once you were coming with them than waiting patiently, you'd embrace them before bed.

Huddled around the table, Sam reading, Dean nursing a cold beer whilst flipping through a magazine as you ate and prompted Dean into weird topics of 'never have I ever - monster edition'. You'd bid yourself adue.

"I'm gonna hit the sack, weirdos." You'd walk around to them. "Enjoy your light reading, Sammy. And enjoy your pervy magazine, old man." Passing by, wrapping your arm their shoulders, affectionately nudging cheeks with them — Sam would accept them graciously, the loving gesture comforting to him. And Dean would simply hum at you, trying his best to look indifferent or exasperated by such contact. But you knew he silently enjoyed them, and Sam did especially; knowing his older brother, the boundary of affection was never crossed but from you — a semblance of a younger sister — was soothed but this entry of comfort. Shoulders slacked, posture less tense, you were a reminder of everything was okay.

"Now get off me - you need a shower."

When Castiel was around it, too, didn't take long before he was another victim to your embraces. Seeing how close Cas was to Dean and Sam, it meant he was good.

Late night car rides, slumped against the worn leather of Baby as the soft rock channel hummed alongside the murmuring engine pushing the hunters and a angel home. The orange street light continuously ran over their laps, exhaustion lingered in the vehicle — Dean's raw red knuckles were prominent, wrapped around the steering wheel. Sam sported a scrape on his cheek bone, exchanging hushed words between his brother and Castiel. Sat in the back with Cas, you couldn't bother chipping on the discussion. The headache you endured only just subsided, with just a bruise that ached at your side, both the dull music and gentle voices did well to block it. Soothing you into a lul.

"Someone's uncharacteristically quiet..." Sam humoured. The two shared a peak through the review mirror to catch your heavy eyes and tilting head you struggled to hold up. Dean couldn't help but smirk, chuckling under his breath at your disgruntled hum towards Sam.

"It's a nice change," he joked.

"Dean," Cas warned, glancing attentively to you, "She did a lot today."

"Yea... she did." He said silently proud. Of course she did.

Moments passed and next thing you know, Cas felt your held fall on his shoulder. Almost surprised, he didn't move an inch. Tossing and turning, laying on him finally made you settle. Staring down at you, he was glad to see you sleep — you took too many nights to sitting on thay laptop keen that every minute need not be wasted. And so he laid back a bit more comfortably, mindful on how much he moved. He understood, humans needed their rest.

Dean couldn't help but find it endearing.

The boys did their best to revieve your affection in stride. Cas was always naturally stiff when you slung your arm over his shoulders. Dean tried his best to act annoyed when you attack hug him from behind, and awkwardly patting your back. Sam never minded the time you'd sit beside him, leaning against his larger stature while he read or researched.

Then Jack showed up. Between losing Mary, Crowley, the fright of Cas' death and so much more — times weren't the easiest. Lucifer's son, the premeditated anti-christ that was the cease all life and goodness, the first day of getting to know Jack was a rocky path. While Sam continuously sympathised the young man and Dean couldn't even look at him, you remained initially indifferent. Just like your brothers, you were scared more than anything, grieving over the losses especially Cas — you didn't know what to think but you did know they needed you.

Jack noticed how you kept wrapping your arms around them every time you left off to somewhere or twist your twist your face into something warm at the much angrier man. It was so peculiar to him that he asked Sam when they were in the cellar, "why does she do that?"

"What?"

A look of seriousness worried Sam, "Do that - hold him. Dean." And he looked at him confused.

"You mean— she hugging him." Jack's face didn't change, "she's embraced him because she's worried about him," it sounded more like a question as he mimicked the gesture, "you embrace someone when you want to comfort them, or show them affection."

"'affection'?"

"It's means to show care for someone."

Jack looks at him, "She does it a lot." He noted.

Sam omitted a breathy laugh, "Yea. She does - she cares a lot, I suppose."

Soon your apprehension grew to empathy for the nephillum. His innocence and innate kindness baffled you at times. He borne no essence of evil - he rather carried Kelly's sweetness, and a fear that made you realise that Jack was far from anything like his father. He was just Jack.

The realisation settled within you as you sat on that crate where your breath transpired in the cold, facing Jack curled up beside the dumpster. Large shadows drew over his furrowed brows, deep with sadness and hurt as he said, "Maybe I'm not worth all this". Your heart sunk. All alone without the comfort of his mother and guidance of the angel she promised, made to feel like he was something he wasn't — worthless.

"Stop." The words escaped your lips faster than you could think and he stared at you saddened. "Don't..." You hesitated, too many things you want to say and you settle with reaching out a gentle hand. "Can I please uhm..." Jack slightly confused gave his hand at your hushed question. And he was surprised by your warm and firm grip; holding his palm with your other hand instantly clasping over his knuckles, you told him "Jack, you are worth all this..." staring intently into his eyes. "Sam thinks your worth it, so did Castiel, your mother. And so do I."

His eyes softened, and a small smile slipped onto your lips. Hope seeping into his features, he asked, "Really?"

"Really." You said.

That night you shared a room with Jack, agreeing with Sam things were too tense with Dean. You'd continue to be at Jack's side, speaking to him, answering his questions, simply being with Jack whilst mediating your brothers. Meaning, your constant defense of Jack caused a constant bickering and arguing with Dean. Unlike Sam the Diplomat, you two were almost explosive. Dean hated how close you'd stick by that thing, that freak; he was dangerous, he could hurt you! And you hated Dean's merciless disdain for him — always throwing warnings at the names and disregarding statements Dean would say without a thought with Jack.

At times, when Sam was with Jack, the moment he'd leave you and the eldest alone, stiff muttering of words escalated into loud yelling. Seething at each other until your red faced. Sam would always have to intervene, assuring Jack they're just "hot headed".

This anger festered into Dean's asserting orders; regulations, rules, reprimanding of your interactions with Jack. You were holding Jack's hand cause he seemed nervous, Dean would explicitly say no handing holding with devils. Alone in a room with him on an off chance again? Dean's dragging you out on errands or telling you to go to your room. Walking around the table offering your bidding night hugs, your affectionate squeeze on Jack's shoulder earned a warning glare from Dean.

You always made a face back, countering his overprotective as overbearing and stupid. When you finally had a go at him for it, Sam was out and there was nothing holding them back. You both pushed at each other to your limits. Comparing Jack to you when you some kid helpless and alone too, or Sam deemed bad before he could do any good, really sent Dean down the rails — because you're family. Jack is Lucifer's son, not you.

"Does he look like Lucifer's son to you, Dean?! He does nothing but be kind, gentle. He listens to your orders, he's even terrified of you!"

"And so he should be!" His voice booms with anger you hadn't heard from Dean till now and it shakes you. "You think I care that he can smile nicely at you, and say 'thank you' and 'sorry'? That doesn't matter. Cas is gone because of him, Mum is gone because of him. Wake up, Y/n, he can't change what he is and what he is, is a freak, an inevitable danger to you, to us, this entire freaking world- I'm sorry youre too damn stupid and niave to realise that." His starn, harsh words push past his lips in a burst of thoughts that seemed like he's been holding in forever, and he has to lean back for a moment to sigh. You stood there without moving, your eye glisten against your will as you swallow his words. He paused before turning to walk away without another word — the knife sunk a little deeper.

"I know you're hurting, Dean," your voice went small, and you caught him mid step. "but you're not the only one." His face grew sullen: he was too angry, too tired. He hadn't the energy to say or do something. Looking at you, he noticed your quivering lip you tried so hard to hide and instantly in his eyes you reverted back into that small 14 year old girl he and Sam decided to take under their wing. An image that flashed by and then you were walking away. To the other side of the bunker. And after a few heart beats, he did too.

Without either of you knowing, Jack had heard the entire altercation. Your purposeful steps rushed past him and you didn't see him — too busy fiercely wiping away escaping hot tears you didn't want. Jack had never seen you this upset and quietly he followed you to your room. He heard you slam the door shut and heard you sniffle inside. Hesitant he slowly cracked the door open to see your back facing towards him, sat on the edge of your unmade bed, silently crying.

A sensation of sorrowful guilt imbued in the centre of his chest. This was his fault wasn't it?

"Y/n?" His sudden appearance finally made known surprises you and you whip around. "Jack," your voice is thick with emotions, harshly sniffed back as your wiped your cheeks several times. "What are you..." You took a deep breath. Seeing his worried eyes you realised your attempt to appear unphased and normal was feeble — your eyes were puffy, flushed cheeks and red nose. And then it hit you, "I'm sorry, Jack. Sorry you had to hear that it's just, he's just..." you lett your hands fall to your lap defeatedly and head hung low. You looked him and flashed a weak smile, "Don't worry," Jack moved to sit on your bed, "It's just everything's a bit weird."

"I'm sorry." He finally said simply.

"What? Jack-"

"I'm sorry," he looked at you with those same eyes that night. "that you, Dean and Sam are hurting - because of me."

You shook your head, "No, no Jack, you have done nothing wrong, we're fine. We will work this out-"

"But you are crying, you are upset."

"I'm fine, Jack, don't-"

"Why are you lying?" He places a hand over yours, catching your evasive and scattered gaze. He pulls you to a halt, forcing you to meeting his big attentive eyes. They were so kind and gentle. And the warm of his hand stopped your racing heart. "You can tell me." He said softly and such simple words crashes over you. Your eyes locked onto his, you let silence hang in between as you soaked in this blooming comfort from someone you least expected it. It was overwhelming. And the longer you looked at him, all thoughts and emotions started to feel too real, too much, and your eyed began to well up in tears. Trying to blink them away made them fall faster and your gaze fell to his hand. "I- I'm sorry."

Your voice cracked and your instinctively tried to cover your face; to hide from Jack which you were sure you were confusing him even more with your immense and sudden outpour of emotions. You muttered your apologies, intending to turn to avoid overwhelming him further until the mattress dipped this way and there and a pair of arms embraced you. The foreign feeling of his body against yours made you hold your breath for a second — digesting the unexpected gesture of comfort from Jack and one that you didn't know you needed.

He held you firmly, his head tucked beside yours, eyes scrunched tight as if desperate to make you feel better. Seconds pass before you relent into his touch, wrapping your arms around his neck and burrying yourself away into the nape of his neck. And Jack squeezed you a little tighter.

You and Jack would stay like that for a while. Until your quiet sobs muffled into his shirt quietened down to weak sniffles and your arms loosened, feeling yourself wafting into sleep.

Once Sam came home from his grocery run, he was met by the unsuaul silence and brooding Dean who fixing himself a sandwich.

"Dean, I literally went shopping to cook now why are you-"

"'s not for me." He finished it before pushing it towards Sam, "Mind giving this to Y/n?" It was hardly a question.

The way his brother barely looked at him leaning back with a drink, and the sullenness of his voice, Sam knew something must've happened, "...And why can't you do that?"

"I don't think she's in the mood to talk to be right about now."

Sam walked up to your door, sick with worry and anger to hear what had gone down between you and Dean. The steam from yet another argument with Dean came to a simmer seeing your door not locked but left ajar. He slowed, softly calling out "Y/n?" coming closer he heard not only your soft snores he knew well after years but another's.

Entering he stopped — there you were deep in slumber. And in the arms of the nephilum. Your head lay in the croock of his neck, arms loosely fallen across his torso while his around your shoulders. Sam noted your red eyes and nose, stains of tears that revealed the severity of this argument with Dean had a toll on you. It pained his heart yet seeing Jack with you overturned such hurt — he comforted you. A cosmic being does not need sleep yet Jack visibly chose to rest with you — to show you he cared too. However it there was no doubt you had fallen asleep on him first — a sign of your trust.

The two of you have connected, and Sam quietly left, clicking the door shut with a relief and no plan on letting his older brother know about this.

[marukyubi]

Octobie Week 2: Anarchy Just a little drabble for this week '3 Pairing- Hobie x OC this week 'D (Couldn't squeeze out more. Was planning a drawing for this week but a sudden burst of desire to write has consumed me full and quick.) Brief Background - So, my oc, and her universe is in a type of dystopian world where only the people who are born rich keep getting more and more rich and powerful while the people below will never stand a chance truly, being kept in such chaos so they will never remember, get stronger, to trouble any of the "ELITES BORNS". The elites are tight-knit too, but also have tight rules that they made even their own kinds follow strictly, and very rarely that one survive from the pack if they defined the rules. My oc, Angelina, is born an Elite descendent whose family is kinda a feared outcast. Their family defies rules and even advocates the people who are not elites to defy them as well. Also support and try to make the people's lives and the society better even if it's a little bit (The irony of them being able to resist the elites this strongly is because their family has a long line of private military and the control of weapon trading businesses, which made them an essential among them. But in Angel's father's hand, to simply put how the family business stopped, "You know what. I tried the peaceful path first but you guys killed my *adopted* brother. FUCK YOU AND YOUR MOTHERS. I'm burning you all if given a chance.)

If you see Wayne family refs I took, no you don't-

Also, Angel is a Spidersona who now uses the mantle of prowler more often. She still has her organic webs, and she still uses them to have swinging dates with Hobie- but she doesn't like being associated with spiders (especially Peters) after being killed and resurrected. (Her universe Peter is not really that great. He's one of many main factors that caused her death.) She mainly uses magic weapons like her pa :D

Warning - Vulger words, mentions of violence, mentions of cannibalism, mentions of blood, brief old men yaoi, Hobie might be a bit ooc 'cause I wrote in a rush of creativity(sorry '3), it's (almost) an indulgence oc content

EAT THE RICH It's an old saying that originated from the French Revolution and is used by many people who have taken the mentality of anarchism to this day. EAT. the "RICH". When Hobie said it in front of his lover, and her dad who is a great inventor with such generational wealth but even joined him in the chant, and their family who... support him fully despite their power hold and background? (It's a weird family, he knows it when he gets in head first, but they were kind enough...?) He didn't expect her to take it as literally... "You're telling me..." asks Hobie to Angelina slowly, to take in fully of what he's about to say. "That you killed a bunch of big politicians... and fed the meats to... who!?" "My babies!" Angelina answers with a beaming smile, looking all too prideful to drench her limbs in the blood of said people. "Crowley did not mean literal babies," her brother, Felix, chimes in while working on a project near the conversation, and so does her pa(other dad :D). "We don't accept cannibalism in this household," says her pa as he tries out a new magic spell he had just found from an old grimoire. "At least not with those degraded meats." "Then what babies?" Hobie can't help but ask. "My... babies!" She replies with an emphasized voice as if he will just suddenly get the enlightenment of what she truly means. But she did catch her own mistake quick and pointed at the big aquarium behind him that has a wide variety of colorful fishes. "And hey, I'm not a meanie." She proclaims herself with a huff and a proud grin that is a bit terrifying, considering the situation. "I ground the meat to the softest pulp form I can get and mixed it with their normal diet so they won't get sick from the "treat". I also fed to the strayed animals too, no worries." It rendered Hobie a bit speechless, to hear her say all of this like it's nothing special and/or horrifying process. He's almost used to his partner's uncanny and abnormal thought processes but to see her commit one? She can always surprise him in ways he has never thought possible... "... And the reasoning?" asks Hobie quietly with a sigh. He just can't... help it, like how he fell for this bumbling idiot. And one thing he knows for sure about his love is... she would never do things out of irrational or unjustifiable excuses, no matter how the execution is. She sort of means well, almost always. It's just the acts that weird out the people who weren't around this strange family enough. And she does give him the answer immediately, with a brightening, childish smile. "Those pigs tried to legalize underage marriage in their state for the child trafficking shit they're covering for." "...Blimey, tell me you gave all in to torture those bastards." "Hell yeah! Started with making my men slice their dicks and balls off into thin strands with a bloody dull knife while keeping 'em fully awake."

[chemicalalice]

Fic: It's Not My Love You'll Drown In - Kinktober Day 2

Title: It's Not My Love You'll Drown In Summary: You could only reject Kylo Ren so many times Pairing: Kylo Ren x female!Reader (more of an OC, but no details are really mentioned so it can be read as xReader) Warnings: unprotected PinV sex, swearing. Angst. Angst. More angst? Rough sex. Please be mindful of yourself and do not read if this content bothers you. 18+ only! Word count: 2910 AN: For the prompt ‘bath/shower’ for Kinktober 2023. No beta. I have a whole background novel written in my head for the mess that is Kylo Ren, Hux, and reader for this little 'verse. I am sure I will be writing more at some point. My Kinktoer this year is just chock-full of toxic relationships this year. Yay?

It was rare that your smile was actually genuine, and not just a front for some subtle manipulation. Now though, as you stepped into the bathing room, steam curling around you, your smile, and the sigh of pleasure that accompanied it, was real.

When it came to the Supreme Leader, Kylo Ren may be Snoke's apprentice, and Hux the preferred commander, but you were Snoke's favorite subordinate; the one granted the most freedom and the most privilege. Though it came at a cost. Snoke didn't care for your intelligence or, even more importantly, your powerful connection to the force. No, you face and your body were the only things that were considered your useful assets; ones Snoke saw to exploit and trusted you to use to further his agenda. No matter what it cost you.

You had had dreams once, ideas of what you wished your future would hold. They were simple, girlish things: a large home on a green planet, a handsome husband, the laughter of children filling you ears and heart. Ren had ruined all that for you. All you had now was your much envied place in the First Order hierarchy that still had most people regarding you as little more than a cunning whore who only had the power she did because she had seduced two of the most powerful men in the galaxy.

Still, it wasn't without its benefits. It was ridiculous and a waste of resources, but when you demanded the construction of a bathing chamber with a palatial soaking pool filled with water drawn from a mountain spring on a distant moon, there wasn't really anyone who could say no to you.

And you didn't mind taking Hux to your bed; not really. You actually cared a great deal for the man, all things considered. It could have even been love, in a different life.

You dropped your towel to the floor as you descended the steps into the pool, sighing again in satisfaction as the warm water rose up around your body. You refused to think of your other lover. The one you continuously rejected until it reached a tipping point and you had no choice but to give in. This was your favorite escape. And you would not sully this rare opportunity when both men were off ship and you had no one to demand anything of you by thinking of that....hulking beast.

You felt your blood pressure start to rise at the mere thought of Ren and took a deep breath, forcing the anger away.

A star ship was never truly quiet, there was always the low hum of the air handlers and engines, but all that became white noise that could easily be ignored as it faded into the background. Here, in this room, was the only place on the ship that you could find silence. And now, you happily embraced it.

Your eyes slipped shut as you sank deeper into the water. A rare sense of calm rolled over you and weight seemed to lift. You let yourself float, aided only ever so slightly with the Force that eternally swirled about you. And as your body floated, your mind drifted away.

You weren't sure how long you had been floating when you felt it- a gentle tug, a hand reaching out through the Force for you, yanking you back from the peace you had been swathed in. What had started as mere brush across your consciousness soon became more more forceful. Searching. Grasping. Demanding.

Your stomach sank in dismay and let you your legs drop, planting your feet on the bottom of the pool to stand, to escape, but the doors of the chamber were already being forced open and a storm of black cloth and anger was pouring in, the doors sliding shut behind him, sealing you in with the only person in the galaxy you despised more than Snoke himself.

The anger was pouring off him in waves, emotions made physical due to your sensitivity to the Force, and to him; and you watched as he ripped off his helmet, sent it hurling into the wall to his left, cracking the delicate tile with it's impact. You scowled, furious at his childishness and his never ending destruction of everything around him.

You knew he could feel your distaste by the way his eyes snapped to focus on you. They were filled with fury, no doubt at what was most likely another failure in his hunt for Skywalker, but as you watched them you could see the way that something else crept in. A familiar hunger. You skin prickled at the way his eyes traced over you, down from your face to your exposed body. Watched as his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

You dropped ungracefully back into the water, arms crossing over your chest, hiding what you could of your nakedness under the scant cover of the rippling water. It was petty and pointless. He knew your body inside and out, but you did it anyways. Any opportunity to deny him, deny the bond that held you two together for all eternity, was one that would would take. It was your own bit of childishness, you knew.

“Get out,” you hissed, even as you were moving away, pushing through the water until your back hit the far side of the pool.

“I need you.” His voice was low; urgent and forceful.

“No.”

“You cannot deny me this.”

“I can and I will. Go lick the wounds of your failure elsewhere!”

“Please!” It didn’t take much before his show of bravado fell away and the desperation appeared.

“No Ren! You are not welcome here!” Your voice was a snarl, you mind pushing back against the hands you could still feel reaching out through the Force for you.

You glared at him. Even now, after all the years together, Kylo was still just as unpredictable to you as he was to outsiders. You did not know if he would give in, accept your rejection and slink away with his tail tucked between his legs. But as you waited, you saw the anger return. Your stomach sank. There would be no denying him this time.

Ren started forward, eyes fixed on you. You blinked in surprise when he didn’t stop at the edge of the pool, but descended down the steps into the water with all his clothes still on. The fabric took on water quickly, and although you knew it would have added a significant weight, it didn’t slow Kylo’s steady progress toward you in the slightest.

When he reached you, strong arms wrapping around you and hauling you to press against his firm body, you didn’t resist. There was no point anymore. Not tonight.

When his mouth descended to your, stars exploded behind your eyelids as you lips finally touched. The kiss was desperate, as if you were water and he a man near death with thirst. You felt it too. You hated the bittersweet relief his touch always brought, as if a part of your very being had been absent without him. And it would always be this way. He was your soulmate, the one person in the entire Universe that the Force decided you would be tied to forever, and in denying him you only denied yourself as well. There was no escaping fate.

You moaned loudly as his lips traveled from your mouth to your neck and continued their path south. His name slipped from your lips in a desperate cry as his mouth found your breast, lips closing around one nipple, tongue swirling around the bud. You leaned back, burying you hands in the dark mess of his hair, drawing him closer, as your back arched, opening yourself up to as much of your body as he wanted.

His mouth returned to your briefly before he pulled away, staring down at you with pleading eyes and swollen lips. “I need you.” He repeated his words from earlier.

“Then have me,” came your breathless reply, and your hands fell to the sodden fabric that concealed him from you. You wanted to feel him, to feel his skin, every inch of it pressed to yours. But you knew that would not be happening now. He was too desperate, too frenzied, after such a long time of being denied.

You helped him tug the heavy cowl off his shoulders. It was normally heavy, a thick, densely woven fabric that he wore almost as a shield, but it felt like an impossible weight now, with all the water it had absorbed. When he was finally free of it, he didn't bother with the tunic underneath, just reached down and freed himself from his trousers and undergarments. He barely had himself exposed before he was reaching for you again.

Kylo had the capability of being a good, considerate lover; to be gentle and accommodating. Long ago, in a different life when he had a different name, that is how it had always been between you. But now, with the years of hurt and anger and resentment between you, with his contestant desperate longing that you continuously rebuffed, he was usually too worked up to be the lover he once was when you finally did submit to him. You knew the rush stemmed from his fear that at any second you would turn cold, turn him again from your heart and body and his chance at physical connection with you would slip through his fingers like smoke.

He forced himself roughly between your thighs, lining himself up and then pushing up inside of you, burying himself to the hilt in one thrust that had you stretching around his almost painfully. He moaned loudly, pressing his face into the junction of your neck.

As was expected, his pace was quick, and the frantic pumping of his hips churned the water around you even as the force of his thrusts had you falling back against the side of the pool.

You threw you arms around his neck for balance, and the rough fabric of his wet clothes chaffed at your bare skin, the friction against your nipples shooting sparks of pleasure directly to your cunt.

You squeezed your eyes shut, tried to focus on the pleasure, on the feeling of his solid weight pressing down on you, on the fullness of him buried in your core.

His mouth was pressed to your throat, kissing, licking, biting at every inch of skin he could reach. And you could hear the words spilling from his lips. Mine. My queen. My empress. My goddess. My soul. A prayer only you would ever hear.

He reared back suddenly, ripping himself from your grasp, pulling out until only the tip of him remained in your body. His eyes were dark as he stared down at you, panting. “Tell me you are mine,” he demanded, one hand coming up to grope roughly at your breast, squeezing with a hand still gloved. You could feel him trembling, fighting to hold back from plunging back into you as he waited for your reply.

There was no point in denying it. Even if you lied, he would know. “I’m yours.” It was an answer, and promise, and a shackle, all wrapped in one weighty word.

You cried out, throwing your head back as he thrust back into you. Your fingers curled, nails digging into his shoulders at the fullness. He gasped your name in reply. And you could feel him, all of him; the push and pull of his cock as he rutted into your cunt; the desperate squeeze of his arms as he held you too him; and, through the bond, through the Force, his need for you, the pleasure he now took from your body and the love, the overwhelming desperate love that surged out towards you.

You were more at risk at drowning from that love than from the water that surrounded you.

It was too much. Too much and too long since you had allowed yourself to give in to the bond, give in to him; to let the connection you needed as much as you needed air to flourish.

You felt yourself spiraling quickly towards release, and then it was upon you, all your nerves lighting up with surges of color and pleasure as you clung to him, crying his name again and again as you came. In your pleasure, as he was connected to you with both body and soul, you lost yourself, not sure where you began and he ended. You could feel how your release, the how white hot clench of your cunt around him pulled from him his own orgasm. Felt the heat of his seed in your womb. Heard the long, low moan of your own name falling from his lips. Just as you were falling. Through space. Through time. Falling and falling, but safe in the knowledge he would catch you. That he would always catch you.

When the almost endless aftershocks of pleasure finally receded, and the haze cleared from your vision, you found yourself still cradled against him. He had one arm wrapped firmly around your middle, supporting you in the water where you had gone completely boneless. His other hand was cupping your face. He had removed his gloves, at some point, and now he was gently stroking your cheek with his thumb.

His eyes were warm, none of the anger that he had brought with him remained. And a soft smile, small, but there, lifted one side of his mouth. The rare appreance of happiness made him look younger, like a single smile could strip back the hate and anger that had twisted his soul into something you could barely recognize.

“Kylo.” His name nothing more than a whisper between you had him sliding his hand from your cheek to curl in your hair, guiding you lips to his again.

The kiss was slow, almost delicate. A sudden relearning of a past long gone now that your walls had been breached. It could have even been considered romantic, if you didn’t feel twitch of his cock, now softened, against the smooth skin of your inner thigh.

Your own lips twitched up into a ghost of a smile as you separated and gazed up at him, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he was fully hard again. One round was never enough to sate his desire.

His own smile grew in response to yours, as if he knew what you were thinking. His arm squeezed possessively where it still wrapped around you. “Stay with me tonight. Let me take my time with you. Besides, I doubt Hux will desire you tonight after I already had my way with you.”

Even in the heat of the room, you felt cold, as if ice were cascading down your spine. His words were light and carefree, no doubt meant to be some sore of awkward teasing. But they shocked you back to reality, shattered the illusion that perhaps things were as they once had been; as if Ren forgot that he was the reason that Snoke commanded you to seduce the General in the first place.

Ren still smiled, even as he felt you tense in his arms, even as contentment gave way to confusion and then to panic. You were pulling away, drawing back into your shell of simmering resentment. You reached out to the Force, and pushed. It was unexpected, and Ren lost his footing, falling back into the water, head going under.

When he emerged, sputtering and shaking his head like some sort of oversized dog, you were already ascending the steps of the pool. You held out your hand, and the towel you had left on a stool near the pool leapt from its spot and flew into your hand. You wasted no time wrapping it around you, a physical barrier to accompany the emotional one you were hastily rebuilding.

“My love,” Ren’s words were a plea; for you to stay; for you to forgive him; for you to love him as you once had.

“General Hux is off ship at the moment, My Lord. Fortunately I shall not be entertaining either one of you tonight. Although, of the two of you, the General’s company is always the more enjoyable.” You words were quick and sharp, the killing blow to whatever bridge had begun to form over the rift between you.

You didn’t look back. Even now, you still could never bear to see the soul deep anguish that was only too plain to see on his face when you rejected him like this. When you rejected his love.

Love. His love had once been all you needed. His fall changed that. You were no Sith, but you could understand the anger that Snoke encouraged his apprentice to embrace, for the strength it provided. You embraced the anger now too. Love. You could not deny that you still loved Kylo Ren. But it was no longer the pure innocent love of your youth. This love, as destined as it was, as lasting as it would be, was no longer pure. Hate, anger, love; all bound up in a gordian knot of pain.

You didn’t look back, but you could feel his despair. And as he stood there, a dripping black shadow in the middle of the now still water, you knew he could feel yours.

[colinarmistead]

Some of the stickers Commissions of someone’s OCs I had a lot of fun making! I made a little step by step for how i animate loops like this here incase your interested in that ↓

HI :) ok so here’s my process for an animated commission gif, granted this is how I do most gifs but that’s the context to why I have all of these versions of this saved. I send each step to who ever commissions me to know if they have any notes or things they want changed, I sketch in ClipStudio and animate in TvPaint (the love of my life)

first step is the initial sketch based on the prompt of the commission, this is USUALLY  a little rougher and uglier then this, just to get the idea across

this is the ACTUAL sketch, this is what i will be animating on top of and basing the animation off of so i want to get as many details as i can here so i know where they will be later when im animating. (Normally I will send a color test at this point, but for these characters the colors seemed simple enough, sometimes I have to work at to figure out how to make certain color sets work better together and with the style i work in)

heres my roughs of the animation, this is most important to figure out how the thing is gonna move, working rough just to figure out timing and spacing. 

i add onto that more details and moving parts, now if YOUR SMART (not like me idk why i didnt do this) you should add AS MANY of your details on here as possible, much better to do it now when you can fix it and fuck around with it, rather then when your doing line art which needs to be clean

line art truly is the most tedious part of the process, theres very little fun here, you have to just get through it, i used to never think i could do clean line art in animation but practice has proved that to be wrong, as tedious as it is i love seeing all the nice clean lines as I’m a SUCKER for draftsmanship. the blue lines here indicate colors that aren’t going to have line art.

colors are the most rewarding part! It’s when you really see things look like what they are supposed to! i like to color the line art as well, add a gradient sometimes and give a thick dark border. It also helps to add a grey background while coloring so I can see the whites I’m using and making sure it looks fine against a neutral tone

Idk if this was helpful or interesting to anyone but I hope u enjoyed!

[ultrastupid]

Do not expect me to post in main tags often, I just had to post all this because Sunny, my love, my chaotic little bird man. I had to share all the stuff I've found and/or screenshotted about him with you all because I'm obsessed to an insane degree. Commentary will be included on stuff. Hit the "read more" for more, LONG POST AHEAD!

Some of the few bits of info we have about Sunny, from Clown's old deleted blog. Things of interest include him being friends with Barnaby, an inkling of what his house looks like and where it would be located, and what puppet type he was. Also, the hidden text on his picture. Keep in mind that "being quiet" was a large theme back in the old Welcome Home lore.

An actual high quality version of the Sunny-getting-grabbed-by-puppet-hands pic, since I've seen too many versions of it looking crusty, along with a high-contrast version of it to show the hidden background details.

Group photos of the OG six puppets. Also where my favorite image of Sunny screaming comes from lol. Of course, can't forget that Sunny's name is upside-down in the second pic, hinting at his nature of being different.

Ooky Spooky™️stuff that happens to have Sunny in it. If there is a smidge of Sunny in it, I save it.

Sunny merch. I don't know what on earth this thing is but I'd buy it /lh Also of course, getting rid of him and all that. Note, I believe Clown when they say that Sunny is truly removed and the removal isn't a part of the story or whatever... I can dream otherwise, though, because man that'd be cool if he was removed on purpose FOR a story point. But again, Clown said he was just removed because he didn't fit into the story and they don't like "hero types" for it.

Wake up babe, the OG Frank ship is here. Franks's phone not having a 3, and also having a 6 on it could have meant something, who knows (Edit, it's their numbers from that one pic, I was tired lol). Also more "behave" and "listen" stuff included as well. Anyways observations aside, I just love how floofy Sunny is in the second pic, it gives me life. It's one of the more polished images we get of Sunny, too.

Screenshot of the text that came with the group picture. Again, "being quiet". I'm sure that people could run with this theme for their fanart and fanfics if they wanted to, since I know beta designs have been getting some comeback.

Some more information on what Sunny was planned to be. Points of interest include confirmation that him and Frank indeed were going to be in a relationship, Sunny being a "hero", and Sunny's purpose involving "blow the whistle", which when you pair it with the "be quiet" stuff and focus on "being quiet" really starts to paint a picture and makes me go nuts over what he could have possibly have done. Add the "you're FREE" and again, more things just fall into place. Anyways, "attributes already covered (bird)" makes me laugh.

Anyways onto the more inane stuff (/pos), Frank and Sunny as Ducktales OCs. Everything about the Sunny pic makes me feral and bang my fists on my desk, because he is SO flaming queer, LOOK AT HIS FACE, HIS BODY LANGUAGE, HIS MOVEMENTS, FRANK'S REACTION, THEY ARE BOTH FLAMING GAYS!!! LOVE, ENDLESS LOVE FOR THESE TWO!!!

And lastly to end this all off, Gay People Jumpscare: Electric Boogaloo 2. Sunny's beak being CONE makes me happy. Frank and him physically so close together and Frank blushing makes me happy. Them explicitly being called gay makes me happy.

These two are so delightful, and I like to imagine that in a canon where Sunny still exists, he's accepted into Eddie and Frank's relationship and it's poly and everyone is happy, THE END.

Thank you for coming to my rant about a scrapped character for something that technically hasn't even started and is a flaming queer.

[mahou-furbies]

Once again it is time for

This year's event will be hosted by mahou Zeldas, because I've been spending a lot of time in Hyrule this year.

Mahou anime of the year:

(Futari Wa Precure Splash Star, Yes! Precure 5, Yes! Precure 5 GoGo, Smile Precure!, Mahou Tsukai Precure!, Hirogaru Sky Precure!, Otona Precure, Tokyo Mew Mew New s2, Magical Destroyers, Zettai Bouei Leviathan, Petite Princess Yucie, season movies for Splash Star, Yes5, Yes5 GoGo, Smile & Delicious Party, Crossover movie for Fresh Precure!)

Then the stuff I read:

(Saint Tail, Stellar Witch Lips, Magical Girl Tsubame, W.i.t.c.h. reboot, Smile Precure novel, Null Magical Girl, Magia Record Scene Zero)

I also keep up with what kind of designs Magia Record releases though I don't play it or otherwise follow the story.

Extremely Precure year this time around though that was not intentional, usually I only manage one backlog season per year. But I started with Smile, and then we were hit with the news that we'd have a Yes5/Splash Star sequel in autumn, and in preparation for that I had to power through some 150 episodes for the original series. And then I somehow ended up watching all of Mahou Tsukai in less than 2 weeks. And then there was Otona as well of course.

Now there's only three backlog seasons left, and they should be doable in a year if the Mahou Tsukai sprint is of any indication, though we'll see how that goes. I'd like to take a look at other similar shows too (like Doremi and Sailor Moon) but I want to clear Precure first before moving to the next thing.

The W.i.t.c.h. reboot was also a thing this year, which seems to have come and went with a thud. Which is a shame because I was looking forward to it, but... well it wasn't particularly good. I guess it can pick up of there's more to the story.

For the first time I've followed a Magia Record (game) story, with Scene Zero. The format is difficult but I am interested, so it's possible I'll look into more MagiReco stories once Scene Zero is over. The game has so many cute characters so I'd certainly like to know more about them.

This year I also took part in ArtFight and did some mostly mahou themed OC art, which was a lot of fun. I'm looking forward to doing the same next year as well if they host the event again.

Now onto the awards!

Best henshin design goes to Cure Sky! Blue lead Cure aside this is a top tier magical girl design, and that is mostly thanks to the cape, especially the red inside and yellow fringe. It looks so majestic! But being a half-cape prevents her from looking too stuffy. The thin twintails also look great with the cape in action shots. And of course she is also stupidly cute.

Also a shoutout to Saint Tail's simple but very effective look with a rarely seen colour scheme.

Best team design goes to Stellar Witch Lips! Similar enough to be a team but everyone has their own take on the theme, black makes for a good base colour and the sparkly tops look amazing.

Best powerup design goes to Cure Felice's Alexandrite form! She looks so regal and powerful, truly a nature goddess!

Best civilian design goes to Cure Sky in general! I just like her practical style and the clothes look all comfy.

Best hair goes to Junia! It looks so soft and poofy and her pastel colour palette makes everything even cuter.

Best magical item goes to the tiara and amulets in Petite Princess Yucie! They aren't that special to be honest but I'm always ready for magical items that don't look like cheap plastic toys.

Best henshin scene goes to Cure Sky! A lot of dynamic animation, the tinted split screen at the end is fresh for Precure, the modulation in the middle amps up the power, the dark background makes everything a little bit cooler, and the cape flip and wings at the end just look amazing.

Best fan creation goes to ArtFight in general! It was my first time participating, and getting to draw other people's ocs on a low threshold was great, and obviously receiving a ton of art of my own ocs felt amazing.

Best relationship goes to the group in Petite Princess Yucie! I really like how the side characters have distinct relationships with each other and not just the main character, and how not everyone gets along all the time (or most of the time with Glenda and Elmina). The fact that they're also rivals makes things more interesting and everything culminates successfully in the power of friendship in the end.

Best mascot goes to Saki's cat Korone! Not exactly a traditional Precure mascot but he does become more mascot-like towards the end. Absolute unit of a cat, gets a funny deep voice and even lands a hit on the final boss, and most importantly isn't annoying.

Best supporting character goes to Kintoleski from Splash Star! He's a pretty simple character but I like villains who are honourable and polite, and he managed to be consistently funny as well.

Best visual goes to Stellar Witch Lips! The story wasn't really anything to write home about but the ultra cute and sparkly art is just magical.

Best audio goes to Updradft Shining bgm! It's surprisingly epic for such an early series attack and it'd be cool if the franchise used music like this more.

A honourable mention to Tsubasa's eagle sound effect in the Majestic Halation attack, Mabayu's (MagiReco) silly "nuwawawa" scream of pain in a decidedly serious scene, and every "Haa!" from Ha-chan.

Best scene goes to the separation and reunion scene from Mahou Tsukai Precure! Or I guess that's more like half of an episode. Really impressive how they spent so much time on pretty low-key character stuff like this.

Honourable mention to the big battle towards the end of Petite Princess Yucie.

The Innovation award is given to a magical girl work that I think does something fresh for the genre. This year it goes to Hirogaru Sky! Precure for having a boy Cure, an adult Cure and most importantly a non-pink lead Cure! Which isn't particularly notable for the genre as a whole but a gigantic achievement for this franchise. Hopefully it wasn't just a 20 year celebratory fluke and we'll see more variety in the future too.

The Golden Mana award is the prize given to one thing I didn't like.

This year it goes to the henshin forms in Otona Precure, or more specifically the way it did absolutely nothing about them. No adults-as-magical girls, no new looks as 14-year-olds, and not even a new powerup form for the final finisher. Boo! I'm not really saying that the show is required to include new forms just because I wanted it or because it's common in the genre, but that would definitely have made me a lot more forgiving of its many other flaws. And this is my list so I get to complain about my preferences.

Dishonourable mention to Nozomi's catchphrase in Yes5 and GoGo for exemplifying the selfish and pushy aspect of pink heroines like this that often goes uncriticised.

Best character goes to Cure Sky! In addition to the excellent character design she also has a fun personality, "earnest dumbass" is a great combo, and her determination is just great. I also like that she isn't super girly for once. The story of Hirogaru isn't that good so Sora too is held back from having a truly awesome story, but as a character she is still enjoyable enough.

Best work goes to Petite Princess Yucie! It has fun characters, great designs, good group dynamics, interesting world and a really strong ending. It's a shame they don't seem to do kids' anime like this nowadays?

Plans for 2024

Onwards to 2024! I swear this year I'm going to continue with MagiPro, I've been stuck at volume 7 for several years.

[violettduchess]

hello 🦁❤️

i was just wondering what your process is for making oc’s. like why’d you start with silvio? what inspired their personalities? how do you name them? will you make more?

actually i wonder how other people in general have their oc’s coalesce

Sui 💜 how sweet to hear from you!

I started with Silvio because I wrote a Pirate AU with him and the trope Ex-Lovers and I had so much fun writing it, but felt a little constrained by the fact that it was a Reader fic. Then through a combination of @lorei-writes encouraging me to make an OC and @bellerose-arcana saying "Hey you already have this interesting Pirate Reader character" it sort of just made sense to take that character and flesh her out. Choosing Silvio was mainly based on the rapport between him and the Pirate Reader in that fic. (But I do also love his character, thorny as he is)

I chose the name Leyla because I have always liked it and it felt right. Feminine and mysterious and a good counter to the brevity and hard sound of her last name, Quinn.

Because I wanted her to be a sailor/merchant/pirate vigilante I knew she would have to be tough, physically strong and very good at assessing situations and people. And then it became a matter of figuring out her background and how that would shape her personality/how much influence that would have.

In Silvio's route one thing that bothered me was how meek the MC is and I really wanted to counter his brash personality with someone who could match him insult for insult and someone who would call him out on all of his nonsense.

All of this helped me to develop her background.

When it comes to Marigold I started with the idea that to counter Clavis and his extremely jubilant personality, you need someone more serious and more introverted. But also someone who would see his value and worth, see how intelligent he is, how much he truly cares.

I also did not want to give her a traumatic backstory. There is enough tension with her relationship that can come from outside (his connection to Chevalier and the violence that comes with that, his status as a prince and she's a commoner) Not to mention Clavis has his own internal demons. So I made a very conscious choice to give her a stable family life and job.

As far as the name goes, I wanted a name that was a little bit fussy like she is and because she's from Jade I wanted a flower name so Marigold just seemed to fit.

I have a third OC who keeps knocking at the door and would be paired with Matias. But she's going to have to wait a little because there's only so many hours in the day 😅 I also do not want to give up writing Reader fics. They're still what most people want to read and I enjoy writing them too.

I rambled SO MUCH 😳 but I hope this answers some of your questions and feel free to ask anything else! I'm always happy to see you 💜