#“’I wanna dye my eyebrows too-‘

[vzajemnik]

i want my hair to be long and ginger again and i need to have my eyebrows bleached:(

[widevibratobitch]

ive been havin a worrisome amount of Gender Thoughts in the last few weeks. or months even. im this close to just shaving off my eyebrows completely. i need to do Something. i need Change. and therapy.

[gardenofhope]

in one of my phases where I change up my appearance again

[yeeterthek33per]

Loved and Landed (Steph Catley x Reader)

A/n Requested

-------

Steph lives a busy life.

There's her football life. Obviously.

There's her schooling life.

There's the life she lives with her friends and family.

And then there's the life with-

"Steeeeeph, come on, I wanna get there early, I'm not dealing with Katie leaving something for me to find, again."

There's incessant tugging at the sleeve of her red Arsenal hoodie.

Of course, her football life keeps her the most busy.

Especially when she has to drive it to and from home all of the time now that Kyra's living in the house as well.

It had been a hectic process, but the young midfielder had settled in quickly, taking in the familiarity of the Aussie herself and her club teammates' closeness around them.

Quickly becoming a child amongst the older girls on the team, much like a sibling to them, within but a few months.

That being said.

Kyra was a little shit.

And she knew it too.

A demanding one at that.

Hence why Katie had taken to knocking the young brunette down a few pegs.

Her cockiness was starting to show under the protection of the older girls, so the Irish captain had been messing with her enough to take the invincible mindset away from her.

Leaving her ultimately latched onto Steph now.

A lot.

"Seriously, Steph, please, I can't deal with her leaving shaving foam in my boots again."

The older woman raises an eyebrow at the pleading look on Kyra's face.

"You did this to yourself, Ky. Katie's only retaliating because you decided you were king shit enough to put hair dye in her shampoo."

The younger girl whines.

"Don't you think she's retaliated enough? I've had my shoes violated, my shin guards replaced with slightly smaller ones. I mean, the other day, my water bottle was filled with pickle juice. Pickle Juice! For gods sake."

Steph sighs, rolling her eyes slightly, grabbing the last of her stuff to shove into her pack, she gestures to the front door, to which the midfielder eagerly hurries out of and towards the car, waiting impatiently for the defender to unlock it.

"You've seriously gotta apologise to Katie or something. The girl has ten siblings, I can't imagine she hasn't spent her whole life dealing with bratty behaviour from little shits like you."

Kyra scoffs as she hurriedly buckles herself in.

"Rude."

"The truth."

Steph smirks at the small pout that forms on the other girls lips.

"Hurry up and drive."

"So bossy."

-------

As expected, they arrive with hardly any other people around, decidedly much earlier than any of the other girls. Katie wasn't the earliest of player's anyway, so Kyra really shouldn't be worried about her beating them there.

Still, the youngin looks exceptionally nervous as she peaks into the changing room and gingerly makes her way over to her cubby, scanning it with a ridiculous level of detail.

Steph can only shake her head, watching the young girl sheepishly wander around the room, checking for what may well be hidden traps.

Maybe she should talk with Katie about getting her to take it down a notch.

The Irish woman was nothing if not relentless when it came to getting back at someone.

The last thing the team needed was a midfielder with serious trust issues stemming from their infamous yellow card magnet of a winger.

"Ky, relax. She's not even here yet."

"Yeah, but you never know."

"Seriously, it's game day, relax, she won't-"

"Oh, hello, you two. Stephy. Kyra."

The ever so loud and joyful Katie enters the changing room with a bang of the door as it slams open and hits the wall.

Her smirk quirks up a little wider at the sight of the midfielder, who's looking rather sheepishly around her rather than at the Irish woman herself.

"You two extra early today, eh?"

"Ha, something like that."

Steph gives her a look as she nods in Kyra's direction.

"Give the poor girl a break, would ya? I think she's been thoroughly humbled."

Katie snorts in amusement, eyeing her up.

"Eh, she’s fine. I wasn't gonna do anything."

Steph raises a brow at that.

"....Yet."

There it is.

"Of course. Don't mess around too much, though. We still have a game to play, McCabe."

She lets out an unconvincing hum in response, right as some of the other girls start to filter in, Caitlin one of the ones to settle into her cubby beside the defender.

"What's up with the kid?"

Steph snorts.

"Ask your girlfriend. She's been torturing the poor girl."

Caitlin rolls her eyes, turning to Katie, who's now got a cheeky glint in her as she eyes up the younger of the three.

"Katie."

"What? I didn't do any-"

She stops at the look she gets from the Australian, grumbling as she relents and turns back to her cubby.

-------

Kyra's finally able to escape the locker room out of sight of the defender the moment the Irish woman is distracted.

Heading down the hall towards the physio room, she ends up coming face to face with and bumping face first into someone.

She groans when she rubs at her face and her backside from where she landed on it as she stands up again with the help of her assailant.

The person is stood in a royal navy uniform, a patch on her shoulder with three horizontal gold stripes and a small circled loop on the top, hair slicked back and tight into a bun behind her head.

'L/n-Catley' the name badge reads.

Confusion crosses her face which you quickly notice.

"You're Steph's teammate right?"

"Uh yeeaah? Who are you?"

"It's a long story and sorry about the bump there. I uh, I don't know if y'all know yet but I might need your help. The staff were nice enough to let me in but I need an escort here."

"Where are you going?"

"I got told to wait for one of the trainers in the staff room?"

"Can I ask what you're doing?"

"Waiting to see Steph, but don't tell her, it's supposed to be a surprise."

Kyra is extremely sceptical, but she leads you down the hall to where the trainers are situated and one of them recognises you immediately, hugging you and dragging you into the room.

She's even more confused when the staff member is nearly in tears.

Wait.

Navy uniform.

Here to see Steph.

L/n-Catley on the name badge.

There's no way.

"Are you... Are you married to Steph?"

You chuckle softly, rubbing the back of your neck.

"Yes I am. If you can't tell it's been a little while since we've seen each other."

"Yeah, I can tell, her house is far too empty for the size of it."

"Ah, so you're the new roommate. Kyra, right?"

"She's been talking about me?"

You nod.

"We would call every two weeks. When she found out you were moving to Arsenal, I couldn't tell if she was happy or mad because you'd already trashed her white towels."

"Hey! That was not my fault, the wine just fell... on it's own."

There's a sheepish look on her face.

You chuckle softly.

"She'll be fine, the pattern was ugly anyway, we needed new towels... Don't tell her I said that."

Kyra smiles at that.

"It's great to meet you, then... How are we planning this out?"

"I'll have my sister here sneak me somewhere I can wait and surprise her at the end of the game."

She nods.

"Alright, I better get going then before the girls come looking for me for pitch inspection."

You nod back and give her a warm smile.

"Oh, I'm Y/n, by the way, Lieutenant Commander Y/n L/n-Catley."

-------

The roar of the almost entirely red and white crowd as the girls enter the pitch is as usual, deafeningly loud.

Home games are always the most adrenaline instilling games, ones where their fans are always the loudest, chanting and screaming every time one of their own touches the ball.

Steph can still hardly believe it.

The growth in the game. Breaking records every single home match so far.

The FA Cup semi-final was no different it seems.

Her eyes subtly scan the crowd as she jogs out behind the others, shifting from clapping fan to clapping fan. There's an air about the crowd.

A massively high inducing air, one that she can feel in every nerve ending in her body as she practically bounces around the pitch in warmups.

She brushes it off as it being a semi final type of high.

Aston Villa would be a difficult opponent and she assumed that was the reasoning.

-------

It seems she's proven wrong in the first ten minutes.

It doesn't take long for Stina to score, the home crowd immediately losing their minds, and they barely have time to recover just two minutes later when the Swede swoops in for the double.

By the fourty-fifth minute, they know they have the game. Four to nil over the Villans thanks to a Stina hattrick and a goal from Frida. Her heartbeat is thumping in her ears as they approach the final minute.

This is the part they're in the dark. How many minutes left of stoppage? How much longer does she have to defend?

The players are taught not to worry about that. To just play until the whistle blows. And she does.

But she can't help the nagging awaiting of the whistle, wondering when it will go.

The moment it does, there's celebration, relief, and a lot of cheering and screams and congratulation from the air around.

A pair of arms and legs wrap around her from behind as Kyra jumps on her back, the young Australian whooping into her ear.

"Onto the finals, Stephy!"

The defender chuckles and celebrates with the team, the announcer shouting out the home teams win to wind up the crowd once more.

As they do the celebration walk around the pitch, the announcer announces player of the match, and then one more announcement catches her ear.

Her head snaps toward the tunnel the moment she hears it, heart stopping at the words of the female announcer.

"And finally, one last round of applause. Let us congratulate and welcome back someone very special to one of our own. Lieutenant Commander Y/N L/n-Catley returning from fifteen months of duty at sea with the Royal Navy."

And truly, there you are, her wife.

Dressed to the nines in your Black, long sleeved uniform, hands clasped behind you, standing with a wide, almost teary smile as you watch Steph bolt across the pitch towards you, catching her with little effort as she jumps into your arms, knocking the cap off your head with the force.

The rest of the Arsenal girls stand shocked, looking between themselves and their left back at the sudden appearance of a totally new member of the Catley family.

Before they can even try to work out who you might be to Steph, the defender has her lips pressed to yours tightly, tears streaming down your face.

The sensation of finally being able to kiss you, her wife. HER wife, has her trembling against you, her stomach twisting and curling as you hold her tight against you, your own hands shaking as they rest on her back.

It had been the longest stint you'd gone without seeing each other, having been on a cramped ship for the majority of that time.

Even having been used to long times apart, the immense relief of being able to hold your person, your love, YOUR wife, after so long. was like nothing else you'd ever experienced.

And you were glad you had all the time in the world to experience it now.

When Steph's finally able to pull back and look you in the eye, hands holding your face, eyes scanning your features, noting a small scar under your right brow, and then returning to make eye contact again with you, albeit very tearily, much like yourself.

Lifting your own hands, your thumbs swipe away the tears on her cheeks, leaning down once more to kiss her, forehead leaning against hers.

You take in the immensity of the screams of the crowd all of a sudden, especially the crowd around the players' tunnel.

With that, she buries herself back into your hold, her nose buried into the crook of your neck.

Your eyes scan the pitch, watching the applauding or shocked expressions of the players.

You'd already known her teammates didn't know she was married, however their shocked expressions still have you chuckling.

All except Kyra's wide smile as she watches the two of you and you give the girl a wink.

"I can't believe it. You're here."

It's half whimpered into your shoulder, and you just barely hear it over the crowd.

"I'm here. I'm home."

"They finally let you on leave?"

She's using a half joking tone beneath the watery chokes and sobs.

"Better than that, Love."

She pulls away shocked.

"You mean.."

You smile down at her teary eyed.

"I'm home for good, not retired but they're giving me an office in London. Full time hours still but I won't be needed for duty anymore."

She frowns softly after a second.

She knew you'd always hated the idea of an office job.

Catching the look on her face, you knew what she'd be thinking about.

"I don't care where it is, or what I'm doing. I'm just glad I'm home, with you. I've had my fill of travelling and front line work for a lifetime."

Leaning your forehead back against hers, you let the moment sink in.

You'd known it was coming for months now, haven spoken to your superiors, and them letting you know there was a position available remotely, you'd taken it in a heartbeat.

If it meant coming home to your girl, you'd have done anything.

A small throat clearing a couple feet from you, the team had moved to stand around the pair of you, eager to ask questions of the brunette in your arms.

You nudge her softly with a small giggle in her ear.

"Babe, I think they have questions."

"They can wait a little longer."

You don't fight her on it just letting her settle into you again, holding you tightly.

The moment she does let go, she's grabbed by the shoulders and interrogated by the team rather swiftly.

Leah stands arms crossed.

"Now Stephy, when did this occur?"

Steph sheepishly smiles around her at her.

"Alright alright, Gunners, meet my beautiful wife, Y/n. She's been in the navy since she turned eighteen, we met five years ago when she was on leave in Australia. We started dating less than a month later and she left on duty about four months later. We got married after three years, bought a house right before she left a year and a bit ago. We haven't seen each other in person since then. Until now, that is."

And just like that, you're immediately dragged into the group rather swiftly, squished into several hugs.

A firm handshake and then a tight hug from their captain, especially. The Scot making firm well you know how quickly she'd bury you should you hurt their defender, despite the fact you'd known Steph longer and you chuckle, nodding in agreement at the stern look turned cracked smile she lets go.

When you're finally free, Steph takes no time tucking herself under your arm and wrapping hers around you, looking up at you slightly with a proud, elated smile, eyes still slightly teary.

Returning the expression, you press a small kiss to her nose.

"Welcome home, Baby."

You shake your head.

"Congrats on the win, Baby, this is your moment right now. Go celebrate for a bit, we've got all the time in the world now."

She pouts but relents with a small peck and nudge.

"KYRA, YOU KNEW?!"

The shouts of the Irish captain make her jump but chuckle a little as a gloating midfielder teases the rest of the girls.

Yeah. She was in for it.

-------

[hotxcheeto]

WOWOWOWOW REQS R OPEN AGAIN !!!!! 💘 could i get a top!chloe price x bottom!fem reader where chloe is just pussy starved and literally begs the reader to let her hit after weeks ? i'm bad at requesting stuff so sorry if this makes zero sense 😭

━ 𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐍𝐓

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Chloe Price x Fem!Reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - smut, oral, v fingering, kissing? i don't remember, fluff, cursing, yahooooooooooooo

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - it made sense i promise!! ty <3

The past month had been quite the predicament.

For Chloe that is.

First, you were sick.

Laying in bed for a week and a half with Chloe doting on you hand and foot. Cuddling you and not caring if she herself caught your horrible bug.

Second, she got sick.

It only lasted a few days compared to your own sickness. But you did the same care for her now that you were healthy. Waiting on her and snuggling her back to an okay state. Though, she complained a lot more than you did, which is to be expected when you're dealing with her.

Third, you were always working.

To be fair, one of you had to leave the house to make the money. Chloe usually worked out of the driveway repairing any sort of vehicle she could get her hands on to earn bank. But that meant she got to stay home, you didn't, usually.

Fourth... fuck she couldn't remember the fourth reason.

Laying here, Chloe stared up at the ceiling with tired and droopy eyes while focusing on her calculations of how long she'd been abstinent. Her head tilting up to then focus on your body that was sat just to the upper right of her.

You were on your phone, which she expected, but it still looked boring as hell. Internally in that moment, she groaned, rolling her eyes on the outside. Which, unfortunately, she realized too quickly you seen.

"What's wrong, baby?" You asked both sincerely and not.

Sadly, when she glanced up at you again, you were focused on the screen as you asked her. A huff of air passing her lips and making a strand of her hair bounce off her face and hover above for a split second.

"I miss you." She said blandly, tapping her blue nail on the back of her other hand.

"I'm right here, Chloe."

"I feel like a virgin!"

Your lines overlapped, laughter escaping your throat at her puff and groan of annoyance just below. Her body beginning to roll until she was in the position to climb up and get closer to you.

"Most people can wait until marriage." You raised your eyebrow at her, taking your focus away from your phone. "That's years Chlo, your two weeks is nothing, I promise." She wasn't having none of this though, grabbing your thigh dramatically in response.

"I'm not waiting for marriage though, I just wanna fuck." You sighed at her words, going back to your phone. "You know better than to ask like that."

Yes she did.

"Oh c'mon, please Y/n."

That was better, but still not enough. She knew it too because not even five seconds passed before she followed up with,

"Please let me fuck you."

That's also was got you into your predicament.

Her head between your legs, and her mouth latched to your cunt with an unrelenting pace that made you feel as though you may explode. Like she was starved, and in her reality, she was.

Her grip dug into your skin and her tongue into your hole, your third orgasm creeping around the corner and causing you to shake in her hold. Strands of her faded aqua dye looped around your fingers and was sure to need detangled later on, the knots already beginning between each of your knuckles.

"Fuck- oh fuck, that's my girl..." You whispered, whining a bit between the words while trying not to run from her face. Chloe's cheeks burning from the praise despite her claims to not have a praise kink.

"So good Chloe... you're so fucking good..."

Chloe couldn't respond even if she wanted to, her face was forced into your wetness. Not that she had much argument against it, she was right where she wanted to be, but more flustered then she imagined.

This was her heaven.

"Oh my God Chloe-" Her tongue moved in a way that was written as pure desperation. Your heels digging into the mattress so hard it began to make them hurt, not that you cared.

You were close, griding against her face for more. Her lips pressing harsh kisses to your clit each time you pushed against her.

"Fucking hell Chloe..." She muttered something, looking up bashfully to see your water covered eyes. "What was that pretty girl?" You tugged her back, wanting to hear what she had to say.

"You taste really fucking good."

Your grin made her heart jump, breath held.

"Is that so?"

Chloe continued tongue fucking you as you loosened your grip. Another ripple of pleasure clawing through your body as you moaned.

"I see why you were so damn desperate now."

But that was when her fingers dug in and you realized you had no more control. Legs shaking as she took over your entire being,

[inf3ct3dd]

000. KINGSTON ・✫・゜

the day that i met you i started dreaming

warnings: mentions of death, cursing

content: meeting ellie for the first time :33

authors note: sorry i made you guys wait so longggg!!! hope this isn’t absolute trash lol 😇 also reader and ellie are like, 7 in this part 🤞🏽

masterlist. next chapter.

blue was the color of the pool on the day we met.

water perfectly chilled, sending a jolt up my leg when i stepped into it.

jesus, why is it so cold?

i decided against just standing there, letting the water turn me into a human popsicle, and i jumped in.

i dove under the water, and i felt goosebumps all over my skin. after swimming around a bit, the cold was a lot less jolting, and i saw a slightly blurry head of auburn hair swimming around the deep end. doing flips, handstands, and rarely staying above the water for more than 5 seconds to catch their breath.

dad told me that his friends kid was here. is that her?

green was the color of the goggles you had on when i saw you for the first time.

you had pulled them over your head, messing up your bangs that were stuck to your forehead in the process. you dipped them under the pool water, un-fogging them, and you looked over at me.

woah.

i waved at you, and you disappeared again, under the light blue. geez, thats one way to say you don’t wanna talk.

moments later, that same auburn head was sticking out of the water, in front of me now, pulling off her goggles.

“hi.” you greeted, smiling up at me. the sun hit your green eyes perfectly, making you slightly squint.

“hey.” i greeted back, returning the same smile.

you had moved next to me on the steps where i sat, plopping down on the step right below me.

i spent a little too long staring, but how could i help it? your face was littered with freckles, falling down to the top of your neck where your swim shirt started. there was a few red lines on top of your eyebrows, probably from your goggles. and of course, your hair. long reddish-brown locks tied into a messy ponytail, with side parted bangs that stuck to your forehead.

i was so focused on looking at you, i didn’t even realize you were looking at me. curls separated into two braids, resting on my chest, with a light pink one piece, and a deep tan.

“pretty.” you mumbled under your breath.

i definitely heard, but i decided to humor you.

“what didya say?” i questioned, tilting my head.

you shook yourself out of your daze, blinking dramatically. “huh?- i didn’t say anything.” you were quick to defend, shaking your head.

i gave a calm “hm” in response, shrugging and resting my forearms on my knees.

“so….d’you live here?” you asked, turning yourself to face me.

“nuh uh. my nana does, she’s right over there.”

i pointed to her, comfortably sat in her chair with a canned margarita.

you gave me a small nod, following where my finger led with your eyes.

“i don’t live here either, my dad got his dads house here when he died. we just come here to swim.” you explained, sloshing water around in front of you.

my eyes widened at the suddenness of the comment, but i replied almost instantly.

“sorry your grandpa died. thats sad.” i attempted to comfort.

“meh, i never met him.” you shrugged, continuing making waves with your hands.

we sat in silence for a while, unsure of what to say next. it wasn’t awkward, surprisingly, it was just…silence. the quiet splashing of pool water and the chatter of the old ladies in their chairs was the only thing that filled our ears.

i started staring back down at you, only really seeing the top of your head. the sun shined on your hair, making the red in it even more noticeable. for some reason, its all i wanted to look at.

“did you dye your hair? how is it….” i twirled a loose strand around my finger, moving next to you on the pool steps.

“how is it what?” you replied, letting out a small giggle.

“its like, red, but pretty red. i have a friend whos a ‘red head’ , but her hairs like , carrot orange.” i answered, still toying with it.

red was the color your cheeks turned at my accidental compliment.

pretty red. she thinks my hair is pretty.

“hey, whats wrong with orange?” you questioned yet again, staring at me.

“its a nice color sometimes, but not for hair. and , its not even red??? its orange! why are they called red heads?”

“isn’t orange just red with white in it?”

“so what? that doesn’t mean its red. if anything, you’re a red head. your hair is literally dark red. and its not ugly pumpkin color.”

“you really care about peoples hair.” you stated, letting out a giggle.

“people always say that they see peoples teeth first when they meet them, but thats a bunch of crap. i see their hair.” i rolled my eyes, moving a piece of hair behind my ear.

“i definitely see if someones bald before i care about their teeth.” you agreed, still laughing.

“exactly! like i don’t even know what your teeth look like. i just saw you, and i was like ‘wow. she has pretty hair.’”

“you think my hair is that nice?” you asked, toying with the ends of it.

“no, i actually think your hair looks like a giant pile of shit.” i sarcastically quipped, chuckling at myself.

“oh yeah?” and before you could even finish enunciating your sentence, i was falling off the stairs, into the cold water.

“hey! i didn’t even have my goggles on, you dick!” i yelled, wiping the water out of my eyes.

“language!” my dad yelled from his chair, seated next to yours.

i rolled my eyes at him, and moved to pull you in with me.

you fell under, just as unceremoniously as i did, and we both burst into laughter.

when we finally calmed down, i looked over at you.

“wait, what’s your name?”

taglist: @astroph1les @zeniqk @macaroni676 @mina-281 @sawaagyapong @brunettedolls-blog @horror-whoree @elliewilliamsmunch @ellies2fingers @valdez-ayla4499 @claymoreshaze @dollietes @heartrobynn @uraesthete @bellaramslover @amitycat @matchamilkislover @atomicami @certifedcrybunny @perfect-little-thing @elsmissingfingers @mostlyhornyandsad @nil-eena @koloz @doepretty @idkwhattoput888 @guavasbizarre @louleele @graviewaviee @bl1ndsp0t @elliewilliamsgf69 @elleatethat @strawbn1ng @jvstellies @thereasonurgay @crystalsnothere @misosoupupup @greencacty @every1oneluvsriley @endureher @michel-angelo @nickiminaj689 @bratydoll @sc0ttstre3ted @fr3sh-tragedies @bearieio @sluttyletty @dinoastronaut @sapphicsstars (sorry if i couldn’t add you, i ran out of mentions 😪)

[potatohater]

Big brother’s love

Fandom: Supernatural

Characters: Dean & Sam Winchester (a bit of Castiel)

Word count: 1929

MY BABIES AHHGRRR; I just NEEDED some brothers fluff and HERE WE GO, LEE!SAM FOREVER🙏 love them, here it’s like moments since childhood-season 6 (bc I’m watching it rn) (btw @cringemesstickles I know that you’re a sucker for lee!sam so you might wanna check this one out🤭)

;

Dean loved making Sam smile, even though Sam always tried to hide it, making himself look more serious, deep down Dean always knew how to crack him

**

Older Winchester woke up and sat on the bed, rubbing his eyes. Clock said 8:03 am and he had no idea how he got so early today. John left them for a week.. which turned into two as he couldn’t kill the vampire he was hunting, so two teenage boys spent most of the time in the hotel room; not bothered by trying to pick up a school if they are going to attend it only for a few days.

Sam looked up from his book to take a look at his brother when he froze for half a second, biting back a smile

“What?” Dean asked him, was it something on his face or something?

“Oh no nothing” younger boy replied, trying to focus on his book, but taking a quick glance at Dean. Now him biting back a smile was even more visible

“Is it something on my face?” Dean’s brows furrowed as he asked out loud

He took a half glance in the mirror in the middle of the room and saw how his hair in the middle was slick back, but on the sides it was sticking up in all directions, making him look ridiculous. In what pose did he even had to sleep to get this hairstyle?

He turned his eyes back to Sam, seeing how hard he tried to focus on the book in front of him. They locked eyes as Dean wiggled his eyebrows, trying to play dumb to get the kid to crack

Even though Sammy was quite serious for a kid his age, it wasn’t that hard to make him laugh. 11 year old boy mostly found Dean’s fails funny, when he tried to flirt with a girl but got rejected. This type of fails

“I see you, what’s up? Why are you acting like thi—” Dean didn’t got to finish his sentence when younger boy broke into a stream of giggles. It was really easy to make him laugh sometimes

“Ihit’s juhust youhur hahair” Sam giggled quietly, dimples appearing on his cheeks as his face broke into shy smile. Like he knew it was a bit too childish even for him

Dean took a proper look into the mirror and chuckled too. His eyes were dead and the whole hair thing looked like he experienced getting struck by a lightning

He shook his head, standing up and quickly ruffled kid’s hair too so they would match

“Hehey!” Sam shoved his hand, trying to sound annoyed, but giggles in his voice ruined the whole facade

Yes. As Dean would say, it was pretty easy and unbearably hard to make younger Winchester laugh sometimes. The kid got specific humour

**

“SAMMY”

Sam who was standing in the middle of the room doubled on the floor laughing as he saw his brother’s head sticking from the bathroom doorway. They had a little prank war going on and younger Winchester decided it would be hilarious to put some hair dye into Dean’s shampoo

Dean on the other hand wasn’t so happy. His hair was dripping wet and his neck and shoulders were also covered in dark-ish blue dye. His mouth twitched for a second when he was his brother on the floor laughing his ass off, but taking another look in the mirror reminded him that revenge is necessary

“Come here bitch!” Dean said while putting his pants on and running in Sam’s direction. Long haired teenager quickly tried to stand up, but was immediately tackled to the floor by his brother; not like he put up a fight, Sam was mostly giggling like a madman every time he looked at Dean

“Something funny?” Dean tried to look serious but small grin crept into his face as he saw his brother pinned underneath him “Oh I can give you something to laugh at”

With that said, he wiggled his fingers into Sam’s side, making his giggles transform into full on laughter

Damn it sounded good; Dean could swear his laugh immediately filled the whole room, lighting it up

“DEHehean! stOHOP IHihi aham tohoho ohOHOLD FOHOR THIHIS”

“You are only 16 kid, the only one old here is me, and apparently I’m gonna have blue hair for the next—MONTH THANKS TO YOU” Dean chuckled as he raised his voice over Sam’s so he would hear him

Sam’s laugh got higher when he darted his eyes at Dean over him who was still dripping in blue colour

“Any last words?”

“IHIHIT WAHAS SOHOHO WOHORTH IHIHIT” Sam looked at Dean one last time before losing himself in his own laughter again. Dean’s grin got wider with every second as he tickled his brother on the motel floor. Maybe he didn’t care that much about his hair

**

“Dean!” Sam squeaked as Dean made a move in his direction

“Sam!” Dean chuckled, mirroring his brother’s tone

They were standing at opposite sides of a table in the motel room, waiting for other one to make a move. Well, long story short — Dean found out Sam still had his weakness in touch, apparently Sam was surprised too

“Don’t!” Sam tried to threaten but smile on his face outweighed all the venom in his voice

Dean was wearing a grin on his own, quickly running around the table to catch his brother

They were doing it for the past few minutes, but this time Dean actually tackled Sam on the floor. Both laughing the whole time they tried to gain an upper hand

“DEHEHEHEAN!”

Older Winchester got his hands squeezing his brother’s knees as he watched his reaction

Sam was okay before.. well maybe a little tired and declined any offer to take a proper sleep, saying that “he was okay taking 2 hour naps every few days”; so as every good brother, Dean just needed an excuse to mess with him. They deserve to have fun once in a while, especially Sam

“Ha! Man you didn’t change— do you still do that? Wait let me check” Dean said as he got his hands to Sam’s ribs, playing them like a guitar

Sam’s laughter transformed into high-pitched giggles that were just music to his brother’s ears

“That’s what you get for not getting to bed. Gosh it’s like I’m 15 again, forcing you to sleep”

Sam’s laughter rang even louder at the recalling memories of their childhood, as joyful sounds came out of him

“And now you are 23 and you didn’t change a bit” Dean grinned, eliciting more sounds form Sam

**

“Ohokay okay, easy tiger” Older Winchester chuckled at his baby brother who drank a bit too much in the bar. Dean was immune for a few shots of tequila, considering how much alcohol he consumes, Sam wasn’t that strong

“What is wrong with him?” Castiel was standing in the middle of the motel room Winchesters were staying

“Has gone a little overboard, but who gives a shit. I finally convinced him to take a few days off and I don’t care that there is a fucking apocalypse, okay? He needed a moment to breathe out” Dean replied as he caught his brother from falling on the floor and threw him on the bed, making it easier for both of them

“So what now?”

“Well, I’m gonna take his coat and shoes off and let him sleep. Oh man, a hangover tomorrow is going to be ruthless” Older brother chuckled

He motioned Cas to come closer and hold Sam’s abdomen as he took the coat of him. On accident, one of Cas’ hands got under younger Winchester’s arms, making him squirm a bit and let out a quiet giggle

“What was that?” Dean and Cas almost said in unison as Dean put his brother’s clothes and shoes in the wardrobe

Dean’s brows knitted together as a small grin broke his face

“Hey Cas, can you spread his elbows like— yeah like that” Dean full on smiled

Angel did as he was told, grabbing both Sam’s elbows and raised them up, spreading them. Meanwhile Sam was too tired to stop anything.

Dean took a step closer, warming his fingers under Sam’s arms. His brother’s face immediately broke down into wide smile when he clamped his arms down, doing nothing to stop the sensation

“What are you do— waHAHEHehait!” Sam got out of Castiel’s grip and slammed his back into the bed where he was previously sitting (or at least tried to). His eyes were squeezed and smile shining, showing all his teeth

“Damn Sammy, a drop of alcohol in you, and you become even more ticklish than when you were a kid” Dean beamed

“What is wrong with him?” Cas now stood up, and standing next to the bed stared at laughing younger brother who couldn’t even put up a fight because he was so intoxicated and an older brother who now was sitting on his lower half, pinning him and tickling him, having a smile on his face as big as Sam’s. A look of confusion and amusement mixing up in angel

“Oh, it’s called tickling. It’s when you touch some parts of the body that make other person laugh. It’s a body reaction our ancestors had back in the day for surviving. Now it’s.. for messing with your baby brother for example”

“And he laughs because it’s body’s reaction” Cas repeated, trying to make sense out of it

“Pretty much”

“Huh” Cas wanted to say something but his hearing focused on Sam’s high-pitched laughter again. Making his face to share the same kind of grin Dean has been wearing

Right now and there he noticed that Sam didn’t laugh enough. His laugh is too nice to hide it under all these layers of seriousness

“heheHESTOHOHOP DEhehean!” Sam laughed, eyes squeezed shut and hands trying to catch his brother but he even when he did he was to tired to do anything that shove lightly at them

Cas and Dean joined him, chuckling everytime he made some funny noise. “Yeah” Cas thought “humans are cute”

**

“Hey, you okay?” Dean’s voice rang through the living room where his brother was sitting

They stayed at Bobby’s for some time, trying to find out more about this “Mother” bullshit, someone that can ruin their world and kill everyone (again)

“You know what I did, Dean. That whole year was—” Sam was interrupted by his brother who nudged him in the side with his elbow

“Come on, we’ve been through this. I— you can’t believe how glad I’m that you’re back. That was not you Sammy”

Sam tried to fight, but found that it’s easier just to listen to Dean. “Yeah, maybe you’re right”

“Dude you couldn’t believe how DRY you were, I mean, your humour was purely based on making fun of something. We were almost killed multiple times because you found demons funny and just laughed at their faces” Dean recalled with amused chuckle

Sam let his own small smile to tug at his lips

“Well, at least I got you back, and you still think I’m a god of comedy” Older brother wigged his brows

“Oh you wish” Sam shook his head with a snicker

“What? I’m hilarious” Dean said, poking his brother which made him giggle

“See? You do still find me funny” Each word was highlighted by a poke to Sam’s side, making him giggle again and playfully slap Dean’s hand

“Yeheah, maybe I stihil do”

[anglingforlevels]

Another Generic Slasher (Yandere Slasher x Reader)

Don't mind me, accidentally deleting this story and having to repost it. It was my first attempt at writing gore, so nothing too egregious in here.

CW: Graphic Death Scenes, Character Death, Violence (A Little Against Reader), Gore, Yandere, Swearing, Reader is referred to as “handsome” but not in reference to a gender, Dead Dove, Not Proofread

Minors DNI

Life was far away, and you hoped it wouldn’t catch up to you anytime soon. So, you thought, as you arrived at the summer getaway you and your friends had planned. When the car stopped, everyone jumped out and, perhaps inspired by their own anticipation, began unpacking without missing a beat.

“Ah, let me help you with that, Ms. Browning.” Jake said, already grabbing some of the boxes that Ms. Browning had brought with her.

“Why thank you, how reliable. What a good kid.” She hummed, pleased. Ms. Browning was the lady who owned the lovely house out in the wood that you and your friends had rented for vacation. She wore her red hair in a tight bun, and donned black, thick glasses.

“No problem. Ms. Browning.” Jake smiled. That sap was always offering to help people out, so he no doubt meant it. He had never minded a bit of hard work even on his days off. You, however, were happy to leave him to do the heavy lifting.

You had come here with three of your buddies to get away from the city and enjoy your time-off with some extra flair. Jake had suggested it back when you helped him dye the tips of his brown hair a lighter shade.

You had jumped at the idea, and begun calling up the others, so much that you had forgotten about the dye for a moment, leaving Jake’s tips white, which you had insisted contrasted well with his brown hair and dark skin (though he continued pouting, not entirely convinced).

Someone gently tapped your shoulder. Looking over a bespeckled, freckled visage greeted you, as she waited patiently for you to give the go-ahead to talk. “What up, Aisha?”

She hesitated for a moment. “…Is there anything I can help with?”

You had the feeling that wasn’t what she had been wanting to say, but didn’t want to push her, so instead, you simply nodded with a grin. “Yeah, for starters, you could bring your luggage inside?”

“Right. Of course.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, a little worried for her. Your attention was called elsewhere when Sara, the finale member of the group, yelled out, her voice echoing in the forest. “Jake let’s race to see who gets their box inside first. Loser has to make dinner tonight.”

Sara emerged from the hood of Ms. Browning’s car, with two boxes stacked in her arms. Which seemed impressive, had you not seen a pillow peeking through one of the boxes. The only disadvantage was the lack of visibility, but given Sara’s buzz cut versus Jake’s long bangs, it didn’t count for much.

“You wanna race in that long dress?” Jake asked dubiously.

“Scared?” Sara smiled that crooked smile she always did when she got competitive, and Jake rolled his eyes, despite eagerly getting in position. Those dorks.

“I’ll do the countdown.” You offered. “On now. 3. 2. 1.” You kept them waiting in suspense for a moment before shouting. “NOW!”

They both kicked off and… “I won.” Aisha’s voice rang out, and there she stood with a small box in the doorway, with a little smile on her lips.

“Whaaat?” Jake exclaimed. Sara shook her head in disapproval.

“Judge, I call foul. Aisha was already by the porch.”

“We never agreed to a starting line.” You pointed out, having seen Aisha moving toward the porch mischievously while you did your countdown.

“The judge and Aisha are clearly cooperating. Outrageous.” Then, Sara smiled a cat-like smile. “Then, we’ll just have to make sure the judge comes in last place, right Jake?”

“Huh.” You said, but by the time you processed the words, they had already taken off. “Hey now!” You ran after them, but predictably lost.

“Lookin’ forward to tonight’s meal.” Jake said, looking mighty satisfied with himself. You shook your fist at them playfully.

“The energy of youth really isn’t to be overestimated.” Ms. Browning laughed, entering the house with the last of her boxes.

“Youth? Tell that to my lower back, please.” You sighed, earning an eye roll from Jake who had been subjected to that specific complaint the most, as your go-to carrier.

“At my age, anyone under forty seems young.” Ms. Browning placed her box on the table and clapped her hands satisfied. “There, that was all of it. Again, thank you for helping me carry the boxes, that’s no trivial thing. It’s been years since I’ve rented this place out, so I thought I’d replace a couple of things.”

“It was no problem, Ms. Browning, you let us stove our stuff in the car too after all. And we’re just excited to vacation somewhere so beautiful.”

“That’s true. Beautiful places seems to make the spirit brighter, don’t they? It’s like I always say, trivial is as trivial does, and ugly things are trivial.”

…

Exchanging looks, none of you knew how to respond to that, to your luck, Ms. Browning simply continued on, allowing all of you to push past it as well.

You began zoning out of the conversation, your eyes idly looking at the interior. When your eyes flew past the open door, you thought your heart would stop for a moment. You could have sworn that, for just a second, you saw a man, an impossibly tall, large man. But after blinking, he was gone.

You relaxed, certain it had probably just been your mind playing tricks on you, and that it had merely been a tree.

Sara and Jake was busy discussing who had actually been the fastest runner between the two of them, so much so that most of Ms. Browning’s introduction to the place went on deaf ears, as she prattled on about the privacy and view. Something about how it was one out of only ten buildings in the entire forest.

As you looked over the place, your eyes drifted over a dresser there seemed a little too far from the wall. Something about it piqued your curiosity, though you weren’t sure what it was, but approaching it you were awarded for said curiosity with the discovery of uneven, barely eligible letters scratched into the wall.

“Trevel?” you read out loud. Jake, who was losing the argument against Sara, eagerly joined to see what you had found, none of you noticing the way Ms. Browning shifted uncomfortably.

“It’s a name, dear.”

“A name? I’ve never heard it before.”

“Well, that makes sense. It’s an ugly name, fit for ugly boys.” You were caught off guard by the harshness of her words. Then she smiled at you and Jake. “And trivial is as trivial does, and ugly boys are trivial. Something like that would be out-of-place with such handsome kids.”

You were distracted by a loud noise outside before you could reply. A look outside revealed the neatly stacked firewood having collapsed, and by the time you looked away, Ms. Browning had already moved on from the conversation.

Before leaving us to ourselves, Ms. Browning diligently gave us a run-down over where everything was, from the firewood outside by the woodchipper, which we were allowed to make use of for fires, to the rooms, even considerately telling how far away the nearest doctors, police, and firefighters were, most being quite far with the exception of a small, local police station, so small it couldn’t even be considered small-town cops but rather forest rangers.

With our ride gone, we began packing out and taking inventory, in case something was missing, and we’d need to call a taxi for shopping. By the time all the boxes had been sorted through for the most crucial stuff, it had begun to grow darker outside.

“Man, I’m starving.” Sara grumbled.

”We could tell by the fact you only unpacked the food.”

Sara playfully stuck her tongue out at you, but even with that rude display, you obediently began collecting ingredients. Jake looked over your shoulder.

“Yellow onions are better for stews.” He commented, as he threw one of the red onions from hand to hand.

“And the red one carries more whimsy.”  

“I can carry that whimsy to the pantry and get some yellow onions instead.”

That was promptly rejected. As he examined your other chosen vegetables, you got out a cutting board.

“Not gonna handle the meat first?” he asked.

You sighed. “What happened to ‘loser cooks’ that you forced me into?” you asked with a hand on your hip. Jake conceded and stepped back. The others had begun getting out the new plates that Ms. Browning had brought along.

“Remind me again, why exactly are you getting plates out already? We haven’t even begun the fire, I’m only at the prep-part?”

“Explain why you began the prep-work before the fire-“ they were interrupted by a loud crash. A plate had slipped out of Aisha’s hands, and now laid shattered on the floor. Aisha stood frozen, her eyes wide.

“I… I’ll clean it up..” She said, her tone sounding a little off.

“I think Ms. Browning mentioned that there’s a broom closet in the hallway.” Sara said, before Aisha even left, you got distracted by Jake crowding you again. By the third interjection (or advice, as he called), you put down the peeler you had used for the carrots.

“Ugh, Jake, you clearly want to do the cooking.” You said. Jake opened his mouth but seemed to think better of it and decided not to protest your words. You sighed. “You and Sara are way too competitive; you’ll even fight for a loss. I’ll go get some firewood for the fire; you get cooking duty.”

“Deal!”

You walked outside, hoping that the firewood wasn’t too damp, as you really didn’t want to cut new firewood, even if there was an axe available. These contemplations were lost as you found Aisha sitting on the porch.

“Trouble finding the broom?” You asked lightly, making Aisha jump a little, startled.

“Just needed a bit of fresh air.” She said, this time you took notice of her tone. She seemed downcast but you couldn’t quite place your finger on it. Not quite sad but definitely not happy either.

“Hey man,” you scratched your neck awkwardly. This stuff weren’t your strong suit. “don’t sweat the plate. We’ll just get Ms. Browning a new one.”

Aisha hummed in agreement, still looking at the sky. Your eyes flickered between her and the sky, trying to think of something more to say. “Uh, you know, I mistook a tree for a person, like some kind of horror movie. Which, well,” you trailed off. “What I’m trying to say, it’s more embarrassing than the plate-thing, so don’t worry about it.”

Aisha smiled at that. Whether it was your words or your clumsy attempt that made her smile, you weren’t sure. Aisha sighed, “Sometimes I wish it was a horror movie.”

She looked at you with a surprised expression, as if she hadn’t expected herself to say that either. “I don’t want to be in a horror movie, of course. Not actually. It’s just nice sometimes to imagine.”

“Escaping the jaws of death?”

Aisha was silent for a bit, as if contemplating whether to say her next words. “No. In the horror movie I meet my end. It’s not dragged out, maybe I’m one of the first ones to go. In either case, by the end of the movie, I’m dead, and when the credits are playing, they forget my name. But that’s just running away.” She looked at you and then at the ground. “I’m sorry, that’s a lot to hear.”

It was. You weren’t sure what to respond but you could see Aisha was suffering, you didn’t like seeing that at all. “You’re away from everything right now, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I am. And I really want to enjoy this, I do. I really do. But I didn’t come here to enjoy myself, I came here to run away, somehow I can’t bring myself to relax at all. I’m sorry.”

…You scooted closer to her. “You’re out here talking with me though, that’s not running away.” Even being able to share something, however small, was still something. You thought for a moment, trying to find the right words:

“Listen, you’re… good.” You’re good? It didn’t get any clumsier than that. “Er, I guess that’s not really what you wanted to hear-“Aisha laughed, the sound comforted you.

“No, no. that’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

“Really? Uh,” Gotta keep up this momentum somehow. “Maybe we’ll go on a trip together again, next year. It’ll be like running away from running away. No, wait, that doesn’t make sense.”

“Pfft, you’re so bad at this.” Aisha laughed, this time her laugh felt a little more genuine and unrestrained. “How am I supposed to feel melancholic with that kind of cheering up? Let’s definitely go on a trip next year. And…Thanks for coming out here and talking with me.”

She stood up, and the air felt a little lighter around her.

“Well, I should get some firewood going.” You said, begrudgingly, and stood up as well. Only for the both of you to be distracted by rustling from the trees and bushes. You blinked. You were from the city, so you weren’t used to a place with wildlife, and while you could hear the sound of birds and insects nonstop as a reminder of their existence, other types of wildlife had been forgotten by you.

You felt as if something watched you from the trees, meaning the animal probably still was there. You crouched and held out your hands, in what you hoped was a disarming gesture.

“Hey,” you said gently, “Sorry did we frighten you? It’s okay, yeah?” Your hushed words seemed to cause a stop in the rustling before the animal decided to outright leave. Your attempts to soothe apparently left a lot to be desired.

You sighed, only to be faced with Aisha staring at you in disbelief. You looked at her questioning.

“Why are you trying to befriend a wild animal? You know there’s coyotes in some parts of the forest, right?” at that you just rolled your eyes.

“Not this part of the forest, else Ms. Browning wouldn’t be renting out a vacation home.”

“Seriously…” Aisha didn’t seem any less exasperated by you. “I’ll help gather the firework, since if a beast attacked you, you might try to talk to it.”

While you didn’t appreciate her claim, you did appreciate the company and additional helping hands, the broom long forgotten. Especially once you arrived at the scattered firewood. While a pain to fix back into a neat stack, it was a relief to feel how dry and crisp the wood was, as if newly cut.

This meant the axe leaning against the woodchipper, would need no use.

“Can you grab the basket?” Aisha asked after having selected the, in her opinion, finest firewood. You looked around but couldn’t find any. “Hm… Maybe we can carry it ourselves?”

At that, the both of you took one look at the firewood you had picked to last throughout the entire night and decided against it. “I’ll go grab something to carry with.” You volunteered.

You slipped inside, your presence going unnoticed by Jake who was too absorbed with cooking and Sara who was busy crying over newly cut onions. Basket, basket, basket… Satisfied you managed to find one in the living room, by the fireplace, which in hindsight felt a little obvious.

You looked out of the window, rolling your eyes playfully after spotting the way Aisha was sneakily rearranging your half of the pile. She had felt it wasn’t neat enough, while you had argued it would all be thrown into a basket either way.

A large figure emerged from the woods, and you froze. The impossibly tall frame, the one that had you convinced it had to have been a tree, there was no way you wouldn’t recognize that. The figure was huge, in every sense of the word, a bulking presence, enveloped by a long jacket.

He turned his head towards the window, and you duck, panicked. But you swore you had seen nothing but white for a moment. You barged into the kitchen once more, catching the attention of Jake and Sara, but any jokes about your explosive entrance died out when they saw your expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“I saw a stranger outside.” You swallowed. “I have a bad feeling about this, he’s-“ Dangerous. You could feel it, if not feel it, you could certainly tell he was capable of being dangerous from his build alone.

“Where’s Aisha?” Sara asked concerned, seeing as she not only hadn’t returned earlier, but wasn’t with you. You confirmed her fears.

“Outside.” You heard a mumbled “fuck”. You wanted to panic and swear as well, but you needed to do something. “Alright, you two, call the police. And I’ll get Aisha back inside.”

“What about the guy?”

“I- he didn’t attack or anything. If I keep acting like I don’t know he’s there, Aisha might be able to get inside. I just have to act natural.” You hoped you sounded confident and reassuring, but even if you didn’t, there wasn’t many other plans being thrown around, so all of you nodded, before you returned to the main entrance.

You opened the door askew, so you could see out but couldn’t be seen.

You needed to call Aisha inside but found yourself hesitating. The words struggling to make it past the lump in your throat. He hadn’t done anything yet, so if you acted like before, then maybe he’d do nothing, it was your best shot at least. Even so, you hands grew clammy as you thought to keep your voice from shaking.

“Hey Aisha!” you called out, watching her from the creek of the door. You worried that if she could see your face, then she’d be able to see your fear, barely concealed. “Could you come help find the basket?”

“Did you check by the fireplace; it might have one?”

“Uh, yeah, I did.”

“Maybe there isn’t one, then? Just come out and we’ll carry i-“

“No! Um, I’m sure, yes. Ms. Browning mentioned a basket at some point,” you interrupted hastily. Worry crept up that you had let panic color your voice in a far too obvious way. You swallowed. “It’ll drive me crazy if I just give up, please, just a quick look?” You pleaded.

“Alright, if it’s that big of a deal to you.” Aisha shrugged. You held your breath as she approached, only able to breathe once she was inside, no looming figure following as far as you could see. She opened her mouth, but you didn’t even let her form words before you spoke.

“Aisha, there’s someone outside.”

Maybe there was more delicate ways to share this fact. Ways that didn’t make her bemused expression shatter like that. But you didn’t have time to navigate that kind of delicacy. Aisha furrowed her brows, tentatively glancing at the door.

She looked back at you, as if hoping to find a trace of insincerity or joking but faltered as she found nothing of the sorts. Neither of you said anything else as you locked the door and joined the others in the living-room.

They had finished their call already and was standing back-to-back. You assumed it was to avoid getting snuck up on, though they were left with two blind sides.

Any words one might have ushered, choked in the tension, and instead all of you stood together silently, anxiously.

None of you knew how long time went before the cop arrived, though it couldn’t have been long. Even so, each moment felt like an eternity, as frazzled nerves turned every sound of the forest into a foreboding sign.

So, at the sound of wheels, all of you hurried to the door. A cop car that looked like something from a period piece, revealed what must have been a lackluster budget at the tiny station. Out of the car, a middle-aged man stepped out, using his hand to move his long hair aside.

“Hey kiddos.” He greeted them as he approached, stopping a little past the firewood. His voice had a condescending tone to it. “I’m Mr. Davidsons, so y’all say you saw a perp?”

“Well, we saw – or, well, they saw – a strange man walking around here.” Aisha explained, stumbling over her words. At this Mr. Davidson lifted an eyebrow, glancing at you briefly.

“Did anyone else actually see someone? Or was it just this one there?” He laughed, it was a somewhat unpleasant sound, grating in the way only an adult’s dismissive tone could be, doubly so given all of you were adults.

“Sir, I’d be happy if it was just me being paranoid but…” Your eyes darted around nervously scanning the area. You wondered if the car alone might have scared him off. “I saw a man. He looked really big and strong.”

Those words didn’t seem to do much in the way of convincing. “You guys city folks? Out here in the country, especially this lively piece of forest, there’s plenty of critters. You probably just saw an ugly bear.” He snorted.

Sara looked about ready to school him but all of you froze when he appeared. This time he didn’t simple stand or walk aimlessly around, he was heading straight towards them, though you couldn’t see his face clearly from his red hair and hunched posture, you spotted glimpses of a white mask.

Mr. Davidson noticed the way all of your attention had shifted, and following your eyes, he faced the hulking mass making his way towards them all.

“Sir, this is the police, stay where you are.” Mr. Davidson said. He was much more serious now that he realized there was someone. He was on guard, his hand ready to draw out his gun, you noticed the way his hand shook, and felt any sense of security vanish, as you watched the pale, sweaty cop attempt to talk down to what felt like a monster of a man.

Similarly, he didn’t seem very convinced by Mr. Davidson either, as he only made a grunting sound and continued his slow gait forward, stray pieces of firewood being kicked out of the way. “Sir, I’m serious. If you continue moving, I’ll consider it contempt of a police officer.”

But he only got closer. Mr. Davidson held out his gun when the man was within arm-reach. A proximity that left your guts churning. However, the man did stop, a fact that made Mr. Davidson breathe a sigh of relief, as the man spread out his arms. Perhaps it was the way it made him look bigger and emphasized the sheer size of his arm muscles and shoulders, but you felt more threatened by it, though Mr. Davidson just nodded in approval at what he perceived as a sign of submission.

And then an axe nestled into Mr. Davidson’s neck.

Someone shrieked, a shrill and piercing sound. Then you realized it was yourself. The man grabbed the axe’s handle, but instead of nestling it free, he forced it to slice through the rest of Mr. Davidson’s neck, freeing the axe.

Mr. Davidson’s head thumped to the ground, rolling slightly.

You felt a pull on your arm, flinching until you realized it was Jake pulling you the last few steps toward the door, before shutting it close, and locking.

“Oh my god, oh my god-“Aisha was breathlessly chanting, intercut with small “what the hell”, unable to provide anything more poignant. Sara, who had been no worse for wear, straightened up at this. She took Aisha’s hand, and though nothing else was said, Aisha seemed to be reeled back to her senses, enough to break up the broken chant.

“We don’t have time to waste.” You said, fishing out your phone. Your hand shook so badly that it took a few tries to unlock. “Call the police?” you asked, which Sara scoffed at.

“Right, that turned out great last time.”

“They didn’t take us seriously last time, but now we got a dead cop on our hands. Who else are we gonna call, the fire department?”

“Please just make the call, before he gets in.” Aisha requested, anxiously looking around, Sara relented with a nod. You only got halfway through dialing the police’s number before it was interrupted by a call, which you accidentally accepted.

“Shoot.”

“Well, hello to you too.” Ms. Browning responded drily.

“Ah, Ms. Browning. Sorry, this isn’t a good time. Actually, could you call the cops?” The less time they had to stay in one place, the better.

“The cops?”

“Yeah, there’s some crazy freak out here, Ms. Browning. He killed a cop!” Jake said panicked. “It’s some huge dude with a mask.”

“After all this time. He’s still…” Ms. Browning didn’t sound surprised, only forlorn.

“What does that mean? Did you… know about him?” At this, Ms. Browning laughed joylessly.

“I left him here in the woods, decades ago. Anyone else would have died. Ah, but not little Trevel. Instead, he grew.” She was quiet for a beat before continuing pensively, her voice distant, “These woods are… Unusual. Things don’t grow right here. Why, my little Trevel was my height by the time he turned five.”

“Trevel?”

“I wasn’t ready for a baby, you see. That’s why… I figured the next year, when I prepared this place for renters, it would be over, no corpse left, no baby left. Just life back to normal. But it wasn’t. He was still here.

He’d stare. Just following dumbly along, staring at everything I did. I couldn’t stand those inquisitive eyes, I didn’t ask for any of that, you know?  When he was four, to avoid seeing those cursed eyes, I gave him a mask, told him never to take it off, and what would you know? Seems he grew up right along with the mask.”

“Grew up along the… Huh? Ms. Browning, we’re not following?”

“It couldn’t be taken off, as if it had grown into his face. I suppose it might have, what with his growth spurt and all.” Was all the clarification Ms. Browning gave, as she continued recounting, as if in a daze. “At first, I was… Startled. But you can get used to all manners of things, when the surprise settled, I was just relieved. The mask didn’t have a mouth, so, surely he’d starve to dead.” She lamented. “But no, oh no, not my little Trevel.” There was a bitter edge to her voice. “He was always a good-for-nothing kid, couldn’t even do something as trivial as die.”

Somehow, disgust was all you could feel for Ms. Browning.

“That’s… Horrible.” Aisha said quietly. All of you looked at each other for a moment. Evidently, Ms. Browning agreed to Aisha’s words, sighing deeply.

“So, it is. This was a mistake, returning here like this. I won’t make it again; this’ll be the last time this house is used.”

“You’ll call the cops, right Ms. Browning?”

“Some things are better kept hidden, kiddo. I’m truly sorry but… Goodbye.” And then she hung up. All of you stood in stunned silence for a bit. But you didn’t have time for stunned silence. You began dialing the police’s number again but stopped in your tracks at the sound of weight violently thrown at the door.

“Are you kidding me,” Sara whispered, “We wasted what little time we had on Ms. Browning?!”

As if to answer her question, you were blinded for a moment, as an axe nestled into the door. Then another hit. None of you waited till he was able to enter through the destroyed door, before running. You and Jake hid behind the dresser, while Sara, still holding Aisha’s hand, pulled them into the small pantry-room.

You looked once more at the clumsily written “Trevel” but didn’t have long to look at it before your focus was forced elsewhere, as Trevel himself emerged from the hall, with the sound of his axe dragging against the floor.

You held your breath, as thudding footsteps carried the guy through the room. Your close proximity allowed you to make out that the dirtied jacket enveloping his figure seemed to actually be multiple articles of clothing, sewn crudely together, or… Not sewn, that wasn’t quite right.

There were no stitches or strings to see, despite the clumsy, crude nature, rather, it looked as if the clothes had simply melted together. He turned around, allowing you a clear look at his face.

Or it would have, had his face been visible.

The white you had spotted earlier seemed to have been the mask, which covered his entire face. A white, round mask, decorated only by dirt. You couldn’t see where the mask ended, and his face began.

You felt your phone vibrate against your leg. Taking it out, carefully using your hand to cover the light of the screen, you saw a text from Sara.

Cop car still here. Sneak out.

Right, that’s right. It was still out there. You could drive away. You and Jake were close to the entrance, it was feasible that you’d be able to sneak out as long as Trevel didn’t turn around. The harder challenge was for Sara and Aisha, the pantry-room further into the room.

You shot a quick text back. Me and Jake will go when you reach the dresser.

Slowly, you saw Aisha and Sara emerge from the pantry. Carefully placing each step to avoid the creak of floorboards, trying to move whenever Trevel took another thundering step, to mask their own sounds. Trevel flipped the couch, and you flinched.

Sara and Aisha rounded a corner and reached the kitchen island, receiving a natural cover. Once they made it past the kitchen island, they’d almost be by the dresser. It would be doable to get away. Trevel turned around, and your heart sank as he got closer to the kitchen island.

You still had your phone in your hand, so you tossed it. When it hit the wall, it caught his attention, causing him to stop up and turn around. They just needed to wait, hopefully he’d walk towards the sound… Wait, what are they doing?

Sara tugged on Aisha’s hand, and they began sneaking away under Trevel’s inattentiveness, an arm reach away from him. Trevel lifted his foot, and you felt relief, he was going to investigate your bait. The relief was visible on Jake’s face as well, Sara had made it past the kitchen island, Aisha not far behind, and then…

A crass, clicking sound.

Aisha had stepped on the remains of a shattered plate.

A large hand shot out, grabbing Aisha’s face, forcing her glasses to shift awkwardly and press into her face. When he lifted his arm, you witnessed the way Aisha’s entire body were left to dangle helplessly in the air, forcibly separating her and Sara’s hands, and then… He tightened his grip.

The glasses bent and broke, glass and frames cutting into her skin, and her skin seemed to cave under his fingers, blood pooling around them as they sunk into flesh, white bones protruding through skin as if pushed away from their rightful spot.

Aisha’s whimpers and cries of pain were replaced by a painful gurgling as her nose caved into her mouth. After a while, her body stopped moving at all. And he simply let go of her, her limp body falling to the ground awkwardly.

It had all happened too fast for any of you to react, but the sound of her body hitting the floor brought you all to action, running as fast as you could. Though he pursued, it was a relief to know all of you were faster.

You swung the doors open once you reached the car, able to see Trevel’s silhouette move through the windows of the entrance. “What’s the hold up, Jake?”

At that question, Jake looked up at them. “There’s no key.”

What. If it wasn’t in the car, then that meant…

Instinctively all of you looked at Mr. Davidson’s headless corpse. And only a few meters behind, stood the hulking figure of Trevel, having reached the door.

“I’ll go get the keys.” Sara said, to which you and Jake shook your head furiously. “Please, back in the kitchen, I pulled Aisha too fast, and she… Let me do this, okay? I am the fastest, after all.” She said with a weak smile. You didn’t have the heart to point out the tears in her eyes.

Sara made a dash towards Mr. Davidson’s body, basically throwing herself at him. Trevel, similarly, made his way towards her. It was true that Sara was faster than him but that meant very little with such a small distance.

She fumbled through Mr. Davidson’s pockets, when he descended upon her. A sickening crunch as his foot crushed her ankle. Sara howled in pain. Then he moved further up, delivering a stomp to her back, pressing her against the corpse.

You could have sworn you saw the mushy flesh of Mr. Davidson give in, but maybe it was just your imagination adding to the wet, snapping sounds mixed with that same sickening crunch. Even so, she still desperately clawed at Mr. Davidson’s pockets.

You didn’t have time to react when he had gotten Aisha, but there was no way you’d just watch now.

You jumped out of the car, and though you didn’t look, you could hear the sound of Jake following along. Finding one of the larger wood pieces, you charged at him.

You swung the wood at him with all your might, but he barely seemed to notice, instead shoving you away like a pesky fly. You were flung to the side, and crashed into something hard and metallic, the sudden loud humming noises suggested it had been turned on.

You felt a sharp pain in your foot, having landed on it wrong, and struggled to stand up again, leaning against the machine, that turned out to be the woodchipper, for support.

Meanwhile, Sara had fished out the keys but with Trevel looming above her, reaching out, she didn’t wait for his next move. It wasn’t a meaningful act of defiance or defense, but an act of someone too close to the jaws of a predator to escape, but close enough to rip and tear. Sara flew towards Trevel, grabbing onto the edges of his mask.

Trying to tear the mask off. You didn’t know what had gone through Sara’s head as her fingers to the corner of face – and you assumed, the mask – you only knew that she gasped and let go as if on instinct. “But… It’s a mask?” she feebly whispered, confusion on her face.

Though Sara had lost her grip, there was no chance of falling as Trevel held onto her, drawing her closer. Sara struggled but was rendered immobile by the tight grip. Even from the sidelines, it was easy to see the way the grip tightened, to hear the sound of metal bending as Sara’s accessories caved under the pressure, the way her breathing grew ragged and wheezing, hear the sounds of bones and joints snapping.

You had managed to get up but was struggling to keep balance, that wasn’t the case for Jake who was ready to rush at them. Sara, through ragged, bloody breaths, yelled for him to stop, forcing her awkwardly bending arm to shoot out, throwing him the keys.

Jake looked between Sara, who had taken to wildly flailing, punching, clawing, till her fingers were left bloody, and you. He stood there for a second before, with a conflicted expression, running to you, Neither of you looked as Sara’s pained sounds turned to gurgles, or when she stopped making sounds altogether, instead Jake dragged you to the car.

” We’ve been outrunning that freak the entire night, so…” He swallowed and steadied his breath before continuing, trying to be strong, as if he wasn’t as shaken up as you were. “If we just make it to the car, everything will be okay. If we can outrun him on legs, then we can outrun him on wheels.”

Even as you heard Sara’s body being dropped, Jake didn’t let go of you, making sure you got into the car. He didn’t even circle around the car, simply crawled over you, and into the driver’s seat. He put in the keys. You could see Trevel’s bloodied mask, the remnant of Sara’s vomit.

The engine coughed. Jake hit his hand against the steering wheel. And then, the car started. You laughed, not out of joy but from the adrenaline pumped relief. The car moved backwards, Trevel’s charging figure growing smaller.

“Fuck yeah!” Jake hollered out. “An old, stubborn car but you got the job done, hah!”

None of you mentioned Sara. None of you could bear to. Not yet.

“Jake, we’re going to have to turn around.” You said, looking behind at the countless sturdy trees. It was a narrow, winding road. They wouldn’t be able to do it backwards. Jake cursed under his breath.

“It’s okay. I don’t need to drive all the way back to the house to have enough room, just a bit closer.” He said reassuringly, you weren’t sure who he was trying to reassure. The dull, warm pain in your foot only seemed to grow.

Jake drive forward but before the house even came back into view, from the shadow-covered bushes, a large figure emerged, only meters away. You weren’t sure if Jake intentionally rammed into him or weren’t able to stop the car in time, but the hood of the car hit the figure with a loud thud.

And he hadn’t budged. You could vaguely make out a huge dent in the now-still car, and the small, sad stutters the car made from the impact. The large figure reached behind his back, but his body remained completely still, fixated on them.

Jake’s hands were shivering; “Jesus chr-“

“No time for prayers.” You interrupted, shifting in your seat to grab the reverse gear and stump on the brake pedal, pain shooting up your leg, the car moved backwards in a sudden jolt. Trevel held up his axe. He lifted it into the air, and as the car began to move away, he swung it into the hood.

The car were making concerning wheezing noises but by now, Jake’s adrenaline had returned to spur him into action, and he forced the car to continue. To your shared horror, the car didn’t budge. The wheels spinning helplessly as the car was kept in place.

Then he pulled the axe closer, dragging the car closer with a screech. You and Jake didn’t even exchange glances as you both flung your respective car doors open, jumping out. Jake couldn’t make it over to you, without Trevel who stood in front of the car, making it to you, so you both ran on your own, even as your foot ached and bent oddly, a searing fire spreading.

But you noticed, Jake hadn’t run away from Trevel and the house, but towards the house. It was a long travel to make it to any actual road and it was getting very dark, was that why? But even so, Jake had a phone on him, still – unlike you.

You didn’t know why he hadn’t run that way, but you changed your own course, rushing to him. You couldn’t be separated now. Not after Aisha and Sara. Jake, disorientated from the crash, was losing his speed advantage, the distances between the two far too little for comfort, as Jake had reached the firewood pile.

You made eye contact with Jake, whose eyes widened. “What are you doing? Run away, I’m buying time!”

So that was why. He had just hoped you wouldn’t notice in time. But the moment of distraction meant Trevel, who was steadily becoming the fastest of the two, caught up to him. He grabbed onto him, and you half-expected him to crush him like he had Aisha and Sara, instead, he shoved Jake against the woodchipper.

As Jake’s arm and shoulder disappeared into the machine, his face twisted into a pained grimace, and a red mist of blood, minced meat, and viscera descended from the machine with splintered bone shards like macabre snowflakes. You didn’t even think as you continued running, you should have had half-the-mind to at least curse yourself out for wasting the sacred seconds he had sacrificed.

Yet all you could think was you needed to get him out. Only as his face were pressed against the machine, did you stop up. You felt your stomach churning as the metallic smell coated the air. Trevel seemed to spend a moment just looking at the shredded innards and minced remains of Jake.

Then he flexed his finger around his axe and turned towards you. So, you ran.

But you had gotten too close, so running in the opposite direction of him meant running towards the house. Going past the house would mean venturing further into the forest, further away from any civilization. You didn’t fancy your chances with coyotes, and you didn’t fancy your chances with Trevel.

Maybe that instinctive desire to escape to something civil made you run into the house to hide, you’d like to think it was a strategic choice, somehow. But you knew that wasn’t the case, you just sought the familiarity.

Inside the house, you dashed upstairs, worried he’d be able to break down a wall or window in any room downstairs. You could hear him by the time you closed the door, and for a second debated if it was best to be silent and hide, but then again, you didn’t have many hiding places in this room.

What you did have was a dresser. So, knowing how it would lead him upstairs, you desperately pushed the dresser in front of the door. Then the bed. Anything you could get hold of in the room was pushed in front of the door.

And then you scurried to the other end of the room, trying to ignore the fiery burn of your foot. You heard his approach but still jumped when the axe cut into the wooden door. Your breath grew ragged, as his masked face showed through the cracks.

You didn’t know what you had hoped for from this barricade. It wasn’t a surprise that filled you, when the furniture moved along as he shoved the door. Even so, the world seemed to blur out the second he stepped into the room, from ruined and moved furniture that now seemed more a barricade for you than him.

Your heartbeat rang out, thump thump. He was closing in with heavy footsteps. Thump, thud, thump, thud. Even with the mask, you felt his eyes on you. Thump, thud, thump, thud. You could see his fingers flex around the axe.

Grasping at straws, you shifted between staring at him and around you, for anything you could use. Behind him, a now ruined dresser stood. Its familiar look made you realize it was identical to the one downstair. “It’s an ugly name, fit for ugly boys.”

…It was worth a shot, right?

“My,” your voice were shaky, “What a handsome guy you are.”

Was that how she said it? He stopped dead in his tracks. He was so close; you could touch him if you reached out. The air felt crushing, under the weight of silence. Then, he crouched down. Your shivers stopped, frozen.

He leaned closer. His free hand on the floor to support his weight as he leaned closer. Your eyes flickered to the axe. He was still holding it.

“I,” your voice cracked but you forced yourself to continue, “I didn’t get a good look before. But, really, you are handsome. Big and strong.”

He was close. You could smell the lingering scent of sweat and pine. Hear the deep rumbling hum he made. Feel his warmth breath. From where it came, you weren’t sure.

God, what else? What else did Mr. Browning say?

Suddenly, a hand reached out and you flinched. He had let go of the axe. And yet, you had seen what he could do with his hands. Your breath were stuck in your throat, as you braced yourself. But his hand only lingered near your cheek.

Not quite touching, but close enough for you to feel the warmth of his fingertips. This… Was a good sign, right? He was hesitating, he didn’t do that with the others. He didn’t do that with Aisha. The anxiety buzzing didn’t ease, the gory memory playing relentlessly in your head.

In your mind you envisioned the way his hand could still decide to grab onto you harshly. So, gently with fingers that shook far too much, you touched his hand. His head made a sharp movement, causing you to flinch, but he didn’t stop you.

So, you lead his rugged, scarred hand closer to your cheek, closing the small gap. His fingers stiffly on your cheek, which was better than lingering above your face. Like playing dolls, you hoped positioning him into a less hostile position would have any effect.  

You looked at each other for a while in deafening silence. You were worried about losing the temporary fascination, the stiffness of his body warning you that you weren’t quite safe yet. What is it that worked so far? What does he want to hear?

…

“You’re good, Trevel. You’re good.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond or react. Then the touch seemed to melt, his finger brushing against your cheek. Not pleasant or even soft, but you could tell he was trying, or maybe he was just exploring? You didn’t dare to move, worried you’d set him off.

By the time his hand dropped down, light had begun to filter through the tree leaves, and exhaustion clinging to you. Trevel seemed placated, simply staring wordlessly at you.

Cautiously, you stood up. You could feel the way he followed your every movement. But it felt like a curious gaze, like a dog equally confused and curious about its owner’s actions. You weren’t sure if he’d be okay with you leaving, but if you could buy yourself some time, perhaps you’d be able to get to a road and hitchhike.

“I’ll just go fetch something, if that’s okay?” You asked carefully, taking a demonstrative step towards the door.

Swish

Past your head, the axe flew, nestling into the door. Before you even could look back at him, he grabbed your wrist and tugged you toward the floor, a little too harshly for your injured foot, where he returned to simply stare at you, growling whenever you moved too much.

Life was far away, and by god, you hoped it would someday catch up to you again.

[beautifulfuckup99]

BTS PREFERENCE #1: YOU HELP HIM WHEN HE’S INSECURE

Warning(s): Slight Angst, and Hurt/Comfort

Author's Note: Hope you enjoy!

*********************************

Jin:

He sighs deeply as he stands in the bathroom, hands running through his hair as he scrunches his nose a bit. He’d felt old ever since Jungkook jokingly pointed out a white hair he’d seen on him during a photoshoot. He was old. According to some ARMY, he LOOKED old too.

Some people were beginning to refer to him as ‘Oppa-Jin’ and it was starting to really get to him.

You tap gently on the bathroom door. “Baby? You in there? Come on, lunch is ready...” You say.

He stays silent and you knock again. “Babe? Hey, I know you’re in there...” You tease.

He sighs and slowly opens the door. “There you are. What are you doing? Hiding from me on your day off. Shame on you.” You tease as he leans against the bathroom doorway.

“Babe, I... I have a question...” He says softly. You nod and watch him. “Would you... be able to help me dye my hair?” He asks.

“Dye your hair? Yea, I’d love to.” You say casually and he nods fast.

“Great! Let’s go buy some dye, right now.” He says as he grabs your arm to pull you towards the apartment door with him.

“Whoa, wait.” You say fast and stop him. “Why the sudden need for change?” You ask with a soft chuckle as you rub his chest comfortingly. He sighs.

“I’ve got..." He pauses as if it's embarrassing. "A white hair.” He speaks finally.

You hold in your laughter as you watch him. “And... that’s a bad thing?” You tease.

“Y/N..” He sighs as he shakes his head. “You don’t understand.” He tries.

“I don’t understand that the guy I wanna grow old with is growing older and doesn’t want to?” You raise an eyebrow and Jin looks down. You wrap your arms around his waist.

“Babe. You’re still the same charming and sexy and smart and fit man I fell for. A little white hair isn’t changing any of that. You’re growing older. That’s awesome. So am I.” You say. “Besides,” you say and run your fingers through his hair. “You’d make a great silver Fox.” You tease.

He chuckles. “You better be saying that when you have to take out my dentures.” He jokes and you laugh and nod fast.

“Deal.” You smile wide before pecking his lips.

Suga:

‘He honestly looks miserable being with her! Lol’

'OMG, the way he lets her hold his hand with no reaction. I’m 💀’

‘Obvious publicity stunt is OBVIOUS!😂’

Yoongi silently scrolls through the comments of different TikTok edits that showed you and him as boyfriend and girlfriend out in public, and how he reacted to talking about you in his interviews.

He frowns the longer he reads...

He wished he could be more outward with how he felt. Especially since he DOES love you. He just... had a hard time really saying it. But you knew he loved you, right? Or were you also tired of his painfully shy ways? He sighs and lays back on the couch. "Why can't I be... normal?" He whispers quietly to himself before rubbing his face tiredly.

You walk out from the bedroom at that moment and frown as you watch your boyfriend wallow in self-pity.

“Are you coming to bed, or... are you gonna keep me waiting?” You ask finally as you walk over, wanting to lift his mood. Yoongi looks up at you with a frown. It breaks your heart.

“You know I... love you. Right?” He asks softly. You hum and reach down to stroke his hair back.

"I’d hope so. We’ve only been together for a whole year...” You joke.

“I’m serious, Y/N." He mutters and you sigh softly. "I don’t want you thinking because I don’t... show you affection that that means I don’t... love you. I do. I try. I... I just get in my own head-" You cut Yoongi off.

“Where is all this coming from?” You ask as you move on to his lap. He silently hands you the phone, so you see the edits of you being more affectionate to him than he is to you. You roll your eyes at that.

“Baby. I know you’re shy. I knew that the minute you sent Jimin over to say hi to me instead of you...” You tease. “I don’t pay attention to affection or PDA. Cause I know you love me, and you should know I love you. You and all your black cat energy.” You giggle as you tap his nose.

“Black cat energy?” He laughs a bit, scrunching his nose as he tries to act like that didn't make him feel a little better.

"See? You're doing it right now!" You laugh and peck his lips as he blushes a bit at the affection.

J-Hope:

“I think you’re done for the day.” You say happily as you bounce into the dance studio your husband was in. He was STILL practicing the routine even though everyone had left by now.

“Don’t tell me. Namjoon called you?” He rubs his sweaty face. The man looked exhausted, but his own stubborn pride of being the 'dance teacher' of BTS was egging him on to get these moves down.

“Yea. Said you were being stubborn. What else is new?” You joke a bit as you walk closer.

“I can’t leave till I get this down.” He tries as he gets back into position.

“It’s late. You missed dinner. Luckily, if you ask nicely, I can open the kitchen back up when we get home.” You say simply.

“No. Y/N, please. I have to work on this.” He says again, a bit more tense. You stay silent for a moment as you watch him.

“What’s gotten into you?” You ask finally and he sighs deeply.

“I... I just wanna... I wanna be..." He pauses as he looks down.

"Perfect?" You guess and he stays looking down. "Being away for so long... There's new artists now. And I'm happy that new artists are coming up, but-" You cut him off. "But what if ARMY leaves.” You say, understanding. Hobie says nothing.

“Well." You begin as you walk over to him. "You ARE perfect. The DEFINITION of perfection. Baby, you’re gonna drive yourself crazy always focusing on the future...” You state as you move to hold him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“You’re an amazing dancer. And an amazing rapper. But you're more than that. You... Are ARMY's hope." You say before pecking his pouty lips as he rolls his eyes at you playfully.

"You were born to be a performer. And you’ll get this move down. But not without eating and resting...” You say.

He sighs softly and looks down. “Mm... Ok. Fine. Fine, fine, you’re right...” He nods fast and you smile, pleased with yourself.

"Aren't I always?" You tease before kissing him again.

Namjoon:

“You’re all quiet since the interview this morning. Ready to tell me what’s wrong?” You ask as you twirl the noodles along your chopsticks.

“Nothing. Tired.” He says softly and you raise an eyebrow.

“Then look at me." You say and Namjoon pokes at his bowl of food, but makes no attempt to actually look at you.

"Joonie..." You say and he sighs, poking at his noodles some more as he bobs his head around to try and figure out the right words. “Jimin’s story.” He finally says.

“Jimin’s story? You mean him talking about how you broke my glasses a couple of days ago while we were all hanging out? That was funny!" You defend. "What’s the issue with it?” You ask in confusion. It was a simple incident that happened during a drunken game of twister. At a certain point, Namjoon stumbled back and, while trying to catch himself, he grabbed on to the table, not seeing your glasses there. He broke the temple of the glasses from slamming his hand down on it.

“It wasn’t the story. It... was what the interviewer said afterwards. ‘Always breaking things’, ‘Seems like no one’s safe from the curse’. Like I’m just some big doofus.” Namjoon says as he stays looking down, feeling embarrassed.

“You’re MY big doofus...” You try with a smile only to be met with a frown as your boyfriend finally looks up at you. You sigh. “Ok. Hey. Come here...” You say as you motion for your 5-foot 11 baby to get up.

He mumbles under his breath as he gets up and moves over to you. He sit in the chair right next to yours and you sit on his lap with a deep sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“It’s always an accident. But I always get seen as the giant of the group that ruins everything. No wonder people question why I’m the leader...” He mutters.

“That's easy. I know the answer to that. It's... because... you’re smart." You begin as you rock with him swaying with you as well. "And warm. And you’re safe. It's because everyone can be panicking, and you’ll still keep a level head. So, you’re accident prone. Who cares. Look around you, ‘giant’." You tease. "You’re in a home we decorated together, sitting at a table we built together, eating dinner we cooked together just now. And nothing bad happened. It’s not a curse, and you’re not a doofus. Now stop talking crap about yourself. It’s a rule of mine to always defend who I love. Even from themselves. So... watch your mouth.” You smirk and watch as Namjoon slowly smiles a bit before nodding.

“Now. Dig in." You say happily and pull his bowl to him and the chopsticks as well.

"Yes, ma'am.” He says gently before grabbing his chopsticks. He goes to break them apart only to accidentally break them in half.

You cover your mouth to not laugh, and he groans, face palming.

“I love you...” You giggle and he looks up at you with a sheepish smile.

“I love you.” He sighs hopelessly as you get him a new pair of chopsticks.

Jimin:

“Baby? Are you... sleeping?” Jimin whispers as he watches you lay in bed.

“No. Thank your seed for that. Stomach is killing me...” You mutter as you turn to face your husband of two years, but pause when you see tears in his eyes. “Jimin? Baby? What’s wrong?” You whisper as you move to hold him.

“Do you... think I’m... manly enough?” He asks slowly.

“What? Where is that coming from?” You ask in confusion and shock. Jimin has always been strong in his gender identity, feeling both like a man while keeping some femininity to him. You respected this from him and loved him even more for never making you ‘play a part’ in this marriage. You both acted masculine and feminine in multiple ways and found a comfortable balance. Hence why you were now happily three months pregnant.

“It’s... it’s nothing. Maybe I’m just tired. Lots of recording.” He tries fast as he moves to close his eyes.

“Hey." You grab his face tenderly. "Tell me.” You say and he sniffles a bit.

“Us coming forward with the pregnancy. People are... cracking jokes on Twitter about how... they didn’t even know I… had something to get you pregnant with...” He mutters bitterly. You scoff at that and roll your eyes.

“Baby. Look at me..." You say and stroke his cheeks softly. "You are more of a man than any guy I’ve ever met. Wanna know why? Because you don’t need to prove it to anyone. Because you know who you are, and you know what you want. You’re so self-assured and that’s what you’ll reach our child too. And I can’t wait to see who they grow up to be, knowing they’ll have an amazing father like you.” You state.

Jimin blushes and moves to kiss you softly. “I love you...” He smiles as he wipes away a few of your tears. You smile and hug him close. “I love you...” You state.

Taehyung:

“It’s nice to know you’re not just a pretty face.” You mock the interviewer’s comment to your boyfriend who had just finished promoting his new solo project, a jazz album.

“Oh god! I'm PISSED! Who is that guy to-“ Taehyung cuts you off.

“Baby, breathe..." He chuckles. "I’m used to it. Really. It’s not a big deal. Don’t let that ruin the rest of our night.” He tries as you guys get into the back of the black SUV that would be taking you guys back to your hotel room.

“No, Tae. It does bother me. And it should bother you too. You’re so fucking talented, and all anyone likes to point out is your looks?! Hell no. That’s where I draw the line. You deserve more respect. I think after all this time of you working nonstop, you’ve earned it.” You say before realizing you're ranting. You sigh and gently grab his hand.

“You’re more than what they want you to be...” You state and he looks down, the laid back, 'I don't care' image finally falling. He nods slowly, shoulders slumping.

“Thank you, baby. For getting all... fired up for me.” He chuckles a bit and you kiss his cheek.

“That’s what I’m here for.” You shrug playfully.

Jungkook:

“Hey, baby. How was the live?” You ask as you look up from your magazine.

Jungkook sighs deeply as he tiredly walks over to you and lays on the bed.

“Sad. Really sad. I had to tell the fans something.” He mutters, and you pause, setting down your reading for the night and patting your lap. He lays his head in your lap, and you play with his hair.

“What was it now?” You ask tiredly. Jungkook was always so mindful of ARMY, but it was hard on him too. He wanted to please everyone...

“They think I’m depressed! Or... an alcoholic? I don’t know. I told them it’s one thing to worry about me, but to just throw out those accusations out there like that, it hurts!” He says and you nod, letting him just vent. “Namjoon was right. ARMY’s changed...” He mutters.

“Mm... I don’t think so. ARMY... those fans who really love you... they’ve gotten older, yeah. But they haven’t changed. It’s the other fans. The ones who are so used to toxicity that they can’t help but drag it along with them wherever they go. But that’s not ‘ARMY’. ARMY, real ARMY? They love you guys. Just the way you are. You're doing the best you can. You've gotta stop putting so much pressure on yourself.” You state as you comfort him as best you can. He smiles sadly and sighs deeply.

“Thank you, baby. You always know how to get me relaxed.” He nods before pecking his lips up to you. You giggle and lean down, kissing him tenderly.

[murderandcoffee]

I'm sorry I sent the ask too early-

Can i get some of your tma character design hcs

👉👈

well of course you can! sorry it's taken me a bit to get to this ask, I'm uh. bad at keeping up with messages lmao

okay so quick disclaimer: I didn't have solid visual ideas of all the tma characters--details would change or shift or whatever, so I'll only list some major ones/the ones I really imagined well

jon:

I see jon as a japanese-british guy who's like 5'6"/5'7" (168-170cm) with a bit of a dad bod. stern-looking, with short black hair that's graying around the temples, and some well-kept facial hair. I imagine him growing his hair out over the course of the show. he's also got glasses. I've drawn my interpretation of jon a couple of times--check out my bs.art tag if you wanna see it!

martin:

uh oh this is the one that could get me in trouble with the fandom. now listen: I had NO contact with fandom interpretations of the characters when I listened, so there was no influence from fanon designs. the martin in my head is a very tall, very lanky, awkward trans guy with blue eyes, shaggy blond hair, and a crooked smile. he's got freckles and glasses, and moves kind of like he's still a teenager getting used to how long his limbs are after a growth spurt.

sasha:

okay so the way I imagined sasha is actually pretty close to a lot of fan interpretations! I see her as a tall-ish, well-put-together, academic-looking black woman with glasses and a natural hair. I picture her wearing a lot of skirts and sweater vests. she's definitely the most professional-looking of the archival staff in my mind.

tim:

I'm not gonna lie I really pictured tim for longest time as tim wright from marble hornets. I kinda still do. tall white guy with dark hair, sideburns, and expressive eyebrows. goofy and expressive. not much else I can say for him lmao.

michael distortion:

this is another one where the picture in my mind is waaaaay different from popular fanon. the distortion, to me, was not psychedelic-eyestrain-tie-dye-colorful. it was more of a black and white, reality but a little to the left, slenderman-/cryptid-esque vibe. definitely inspired by the visual auras I get from migraines. the distortion looks completely normal until you see its reflection/see it through a warped pane of glass, then it's all sorts of fucked up! but fucked up in a take too much nyquil and see the hat man sort of way, instead of a take too much acid and see god sort of way.

gerry:

I believe in natural redhead gerry

basira:

okay okay another one that people are gonna disagree with. the basira in my head does not wear a hijab. she's got her hair slicked back into a tight, military-style bun. brown hair, brown eyes, brown skin, some moles and freckles, some scars, no-nonsense, take-no-shit attitude.

daisy:

the daisy I picture is a small firecracker of a woman. she's dangerous the way brass knuckles are dangerous--sure they fit in the palm of your hand, but they will deliver blows that you won't ever recover from, if you're lucky enough to survive. she's covered in scars, muscular, very pale (I see her mostly as a redhead), and with some tattoos, too. sometimes I picture her as blonde, but I like ginger daisy.

melanie:

I've drawn my version of melanie! I see her as desi/south asian, with wavy brown hair and brown-green eyes. I hc that she dyes her hair red, but once she's infected with the slaughter it starts staying that way (un)naturally. she's short in my mind, probably a few inches shorter than jon.

I don't have much for elias, georgie, or helen, really. their designs kind of shift around in my head. I feel like I'm forgetting characters, but oh well!

I've drawn a few not listed here (annabelle, agnes)

if there are any characters in particular that you're curious to see how I envision them, lemme know!

[lowkeyrobin]

FREDDIE BADLINU ; hair dye

summary; you have a stripe of hair that correlates with your soulmate's hair color

warnings; language

genre; fluff

word count ; 647

masterlist

You were born with a light streak of brown in your hair. Right in your fringe area above your left eyebrow.

By the time you were 14 or so, that streak started turning many different colors. From pink and orange to purple and blue. Seems like your soulmate liked dyeing their hair. Although, they wouldn't be able to paint over the matching piece in their hair that correlated with your hair color.

By 17, you think your soulmate ran through the whole rainbow. You still had your hopes up about meeting them, especially with such an uncommon shade of purple. Although, the bigger chance is that you never would.

Soulmates could be connected from across the whole world, and never meet or be able to live out their lives. The hair is just a little clue that most people never solve the riddle for. Eventually, everyone gives up and lives their own lives.

You sit down with your friend, Tommy, at a salad bar, having a little lunch date to talk about your content and whatnot, and sharing ideas. He was more into video games while you were more into commentary.

"So, yknow my friend Freddie? I'm pretty sure I've talked about him...?"

You nod, taking a bite of your food.

"So, he might actually be your soulmate... if you wanna meet him?"

"What?"

The blonde clears his throat, and awkwardly rubs the nape of his neck. "Uh, so, your hair stripe, like, changes with his, and I only kinda recently put it together. I'm pretty sure you guys are soulmates"

"You totally sure?"

He nods as he pulls out his phone to show you a picture of this Freddie character. His hair was dyed the same purple your little streak was colored. Other than the only thing that currently connected you two other than your hair and Tommy, he was rather cute.

He looked kind of like a dork, which you could definitely get behind. He had an adorable smile and peak sense of fashion, you wanted to jump through Tommy's phone and just kiss him already.

"Why... why tell me like this?" You giggle, respectfully teasing the blonde boy across from you.

Tom shrugs, "You're right, bad time. Uh, but! If you do wanna meet him..."

"Of course I do, Tommy! The universe has connected us for the past twenty years, why wouldn't I want to meet him!"

"You're a very indecisive person, Y/n."

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

"Hi, my name's Freddie" The purple haired boy smiles, lightly waving, "Tommy tells me we're soulmates" He points up to the un-dyeable strand of y/h/c hair in his fringe, matching your hair.

"Hello" You shyly smile, sending him a little smile, "I think so, I mean, hopefully, maybe" You awkwardly chuckle, glancing up at the spot where the purple in your fringe lay.

Tommy stands between you two with a smile, holding up his phone to record this for you guys. He knew his boundaries and personal space though, making sure to make this moment still special while capturing the moment.

"So, I hear you're into exploring, what kind of adventures have you gone on?" He asks, striking up a conversation.

"Mostly hikes and walks through parks and stuff, seeing a bit of the beauty the world has to offer" You respond with a light shrug, "I love being out in nature and feeling the fresh air on my face"

"Oh my God, me too!" Freddie giggles.

God, that laugh, it could fuel you for a week straight with no sleep. That would be keeping you up tonight.

"I'm glad we can agree on that, nature is just so intriguing and perfectly boring"

"That's the perfect description, truly"

Seems like you were definitely going to enjoy your time with purple haired boy who enjoys the outdoors as much as you did. A match perfectly made for each other.

[turtlethebean]

CC OC Week Day 1: Family

Read it on AO3: Family Campfire - Turtle_The_Bean - Criminal Case (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own]

OCs: Cherri Arrow-Shepherd and Michelle Clayton-Scott

“It’s a bit weird. Y’know, it’s my first time in America, and now I’m meeting your family for the first time. I mean, my first time meeting you in person wasn’t too long ago, and you met my family then.” Michelle Clayton-Scott commented as she and her partner, Cherri Arrow-Shepherd, walked through the woods to where Cherri’s family were currently situated.

“Hey, there’s a first time for everything,” Cherri playfully nudged their partner, “But I think our family dynamic is a bit simpler to understand compared to yours.”

“Uh-huh, and how many adopted siblings do you have again?”

“…Four…”

“And how many of them look like you?”

“I mean, Felix and I kinda look alike. To be fair, the bar is low. He’s the only one I share a skin tone with…roughly anyways, but I did dye my hair to look kinda like Gwen, and I’ve taken style inspiration from Hope.”

“What about…oh, what was the other guy’s name…Luke?”

“Oh, Luke? I guess growing up adopted by two dads is something we have in common, although I think he calls them his “foster dads”, so I don’t know if he was actually adopted. Anyways, we’re here now.”

Cherri pushed both of them through a bush to reveal a small campsite. There were four different RVs, one of which was their own, that they shared with Hope. Two men, one muscular and bald wearing a blue apron and t-shirt and one wearing a red sweater and missing one of his arms, sat at the campfire, waving at the two as they approached.

“Hey, Pops. Hey, Dad. This is my girlfriend, Michelle.” Cherri introduced the two men as they and Michelle both sat down on a bench.

“Ah, I’ve been wondering when we’ll get to meet her,” The bald, muscular man smiled, extending a hand for Michelle to shake, “I’m Ben Arrow-Shepherd, and this is my husband, Jacob Arrow-Shepherd.”

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Michelle grinned widely.

“I’ll call the rest of the group when I’m finished cooking dinner. For now, both of you kids, just relax and enjoy the fire.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Please, just call me Ben.”

“That is like half of one of my dad’s names, so no, thank you.”

“Oh, you have two dads yourself?” Jacob, the man in the red sweater, cocked one eyebrow as he took a sip of his beer.

“Yeah, I do. They’re actually in the city right now, meeting up with one of my dad’s old coworkers. I call them my aunts and uncles even though they’re not really my aunts and uncles.”

“Don’t worry about that. Cherri does the same with Priya and Zander.”

“Did someone call my name?” An Indian woman with long, brown hair emerged from one of the campervans wearing a yellow top and a white coat.

“Sorry, Aunty Priya, we were just talking about how Michelle calls her dad’s old coworkers her aunts and uncles, and Dad pointed out how I do the same with you and Uncle Zander,” Cherri explained, a little flustered by Priya’s sudden appearance.

“Oh, your girlfriend’s here. I never knew that. Zander, come say hi.”

A man with black hair and a matching leather jacket emerged from the same campervan as Priya did. The couple then sat beside Jacob to enjoy both the warmth of the campfire and the conversation that was happening.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Michelle. We’ve all heard so much about you over the…how long have you two been dating again?”

“Two years. We started dating around the same time I started high school, remember?”

“That’s right. Now, I remember. What about you, Michelle? Are you in high school as well?”

“Yeah, I’m actually doing my last year of my GCSEs next year. I’m considering whether or not I wanna do my A-levels afterwards.” Michelle explained.

“I’m assuming your GCSEs are similar to our SATs?”

“I’d say so. I don’t really know much about the American school system.”

“It is pretty much the same as the SATs.” Cherri clarified.

“See, this is why I love your kid. They’re so much smarter than I am.” Michelle chuckled, nudging Jacob playfully.

“Hey, you might not be the smartest academically, but I’m sure you've got some other smarts,” Ben reassured her.

“I mean, history is pretty much my passion. I love learning about ancient civilizations and how people used to live back then.”

“Oh, so I’m sure you’d get along well with Felix.”

“Well, I actually hope I can get along with everyone here.”

“Speaking of which,” Ben stood up straight as he removed the hot dogs from the grill in front of him, “Hey! DINNER’S READY!”

Once Ben finished his sentence, several people came out of the campervans. Michelle could recognise some of them, but others were a bit more unfamiliar. Another couple sat on the empty bench opposite Ben and Jacob, while a boy who came out of the same RV sat next to Cherri. Hope, pretty much the only one she recognised given that she and Cherri shared an RV, sat next to Priya and a man in a wheelchair pulled up beside the new couple.

“Michelle, this is Gwen and Pierce and their son Arthur, who’s the same age as us. I’m sure you know Hope since we share an RV, and that over there is Felix.” Cherri explained, pointing to each person as they sat down.

“Wow, that’s certainly a lot of people.” Michelle chuckled nervously as she took her plate from Ben. She took a look at it, noticed the hot dog and baked potato, and moved the hot dog onto her partner’s plate.

“It’s not as much as your family. Remind me of how many- hey, what’s wrong with the hotdog?”

“Oh, nothing. I just forgot to mention that I’m vegetarian.”

“That would be my fault, actually, but since that's the case, here.” Cherri grabbed their baked potato and put it on their girlfriend’s plate.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, I’m sure Pop will throw on another baked potato if we need it.”

“I think two hot dogs is enough food for you, Cherri, especially with the lunch I heard the two of you had.” Ben laughed.

“Yeah, I had a big lunch. You didn’t have much, though, Michelle.”

“The salad was the only thing I could eat,” Michelle jokingly whined, “Besides, I’m sure all this potato will fill me up.”

“Oh, trust me when I say Ben always gets the best potatoes for whatever the time of year is.” Felix, the man in the wheelchair, chuckled as he picked at his potato with a fork.

Michelle turned to look at Felix and almost fell out of her seat. She was not expecting him to be missing almost everything below his hips. She tried to collect herself, which elicited more laughter from Felix.

“Girl, you’re fine. You can ask if you want.” He responded, throwing his head back in laughter.

“Oh, okay…so…what happened to you?” Michelle asked, feeling bad for asking but feeling somewhat comforted by his approval.

“Got chomped on by a lizard man when I was in college. Y’know, normal college stuff.”

Michelle laughed along with the joke about his backstory before she slowly realised that he wasn’t exactly joking about the “lizard man” part. She looked at Cherri for an explanation for what exactly was happening.

“Guys, I…I haven’t exactly…explained everything to Michelle.” Cherri looked around, a little flustered.

“Cherri, what’s going on?” Michelle asked, confused.

“Michelle, I…I need to tell you something. You see, supernatural creatures like werewolves, vampires, and even demons are all real. That’s actually how I got the scars on my face, and my dad lost his arm and his wife. Don’t worry, though; not all of them are bad. Priya and Zander are both werewolves, and Pierce is a vampire. Oh, um, Hope is also a demon, but she is the one who killed the demon queen back in the day…or so I’ve been told.”

Michelle froze for a minute there. She could not believe this. This had to be a joke, right? She was just being pranked. Surely, the camera crew would come out of those bushes any minute now.

But there were no camera crews. There was no one pointing and laughing at her for falling for a silly prank. There was a sombre silence, indicating that this wasn’t a joke. The only thing she could muster up was a small “oh” in response.

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” Jacob scooted over to their bench and put his stub of an arm on her back, “That’s a completely normal reaction to finding this out. Most of us have had that reaction at some point, and most of us have lost something because of the supernatural. You’re lucky to figure this stuff out on your own.”

“Is…is it just an America thing or?”

“From what we know, there tend to be supernatural creatures all over the world. An old friend of mine was from Romania.”

“An old…supernatural friend of yours?”

“Yes, he was a vampire.”

“W-wait, aren’t vampires supposed to be immortal?”

“Not if you chop their head off. That’s what I threaten Pierce with sometimes.” Gwen joked.

“Do you actually?”

“Nah, I love him too much to do that to him.”

“Well, erm, this is certainly an eventful evening. D-don’t worry, I’m not leaving, but…thanks for telling me all of this.”

“As I said, it’s best you know now before something happens to you.” Jacob reached over his other arm and gave Michelle a pat on the shoulder.

“True, I don’t know what I’d do if Cherri got killed on the job.”

“Oh, they’re not allowed on the job since their face got slashed. Not until they’re an adult, at least.”

“I can still defend myself if someone attacks me,” Cherri stuck their tongue out at their dad, “Anyways, pops, any chance I can get another baked potato?”

“You’re not full after those hot dogs? Alright, one more baked potato coming right up. Anyone else?” Ben sighed, getting up from his seat and stretching.

“I’ll take one, sir,” Michelle spoke up before remembering Ben didn’t like being called Sir.

“At this point, kid, just call me Pops. You’re part of the family now, after all.”

[s1llydr3amscape]

Here some ye olde Vanessa designs i managed to find sifting through my sketchbooks (pre sb!!!!) There's more but Its really deep in the trenches.

rip their 4head broo they have no brain 😔

I miss doing stylised stuff tbh but ppl bullied me for it so now whenever I do it I go 😭

very old art vs my current art style and oc's below + rambles :

this was right After the freaking posters released and oughhhh 😭😭😭😭 gurlll

top name cut off that Blaine guy are other human ocs I had for years!! They were in a comic with Vanessa and others heheheh I used to do comics 24/7!!! Ft my old fnaf ocs rival to fazbears who was better at keeping the safety aspect off their robots. I wanna ramble abt them too one day after a heavy rehaul. Vanessa actually switched jobs from my oc location to the Pizzaplex in it!!!! Because I hope Vanny and Vanessa were seperate!!!

Vanessa and Vanny were seperate people in my Rabbit City AU but idk if I still want them to be different or the same now. Also one of Glitchtraps workers who managed to break free from his control and he didn't like that and sent every piece of her crimes online on the Internet as this crazed murder. So now she's in a new city under hiding or face criminal charges she didn't commit willingly. She managed to dye her fur and change enough and became a roadie for this band that's not very good. (Ffps rockstars I love yall funky vibe I'm sorry yall died too soon). She wants to help people and protect them she knows there's others under Glitchtrap’s control and wants to put a stop to him. Sadly some off them don't seem like they want any help... She was a beagle dog because when I saw her I was like beagle!!!!

My longest one is my oc story that's bad and outdated which included 3 rap battles (i love rap sue me) and an orange cat with green eyes with wings mc who's name try and guess

Its Winger.... (yeah because he was based off Scootaloo having small wings so young me thought ohhh Winged but like Winger because unlike scootaloo he can fly and is a winner!!! 💀💀💀 he also had beef with nyan cat oc over a girl and could transform into different elements!!! Like nature fire ice and rainbow... the main main main mc tho is a brown green eyed cat who was half robot after an accident... God looking back what was I on (I got into mlp and had unrestricted Internet access)

then we had this off my old sona... I didn't know how to draw fat could you tell... dark times oughhhh I wasn't blind tho then win 💀 alot of my older older art is traditional so you may not see it unless I sift through 17 layers off hell. Wish I backed up more of my 2019-2020 digital art tho but those were the darkest times for me also wait eewwww no eyebrows

ive gotten better and fr be the change you wanna see in this world draw fat bitches!!!! going down the rabbit hole

that one barbie trend I didn't finish look at the hands boy ouggh insane sauce I drew that

I miss drawing like this lowkey but my hand hurty and god ibis crashes every 25 minutes u was gonna gonna feral bro

self love is drawing urself accurately irl after years of drawing a caricatures of yourself (My first human sona ever was a skinny white woman with long neon yellow hair and a purple streak </3)

Gremlin from earlier I learned color theory aswell but only for purple, green and brown oops <333

I figured I could give it an oval nose because I didn't know how to draw my nose at all. Big ass nose death off me real!!! I love :3 face so much and big ass ears!!!! I will make them have big ass ears they are fun!!!!

These are my sonas I have like 4 rn and a million in thr vault (progress is progressing)

old oc his name is Jamie now and he's from a dream I had. Literally an incel too like he's studying magic got so fed up no one in his own world wanted him. Used magic to find his soul mate who existed in another universe. Made a portal to get there and take her back to his world because he wouldn't comply in a non magic world. When he arrived to her world almost died turning white and green. And like still managed to get the girl back to his world (Akuma's a goober who wanted to be isekaid) and yeah. Like huh my guy chill out 😭😭😭😭 no wonder you ain't getting any. He also killed me in the dream and is so dumb for being a prodigy??? Like he made a business selling illegal potions with the company name just vile.... his own initials... like bro how are you not caught. I can't with him. I pray opun his downfall and can't wait to see what other shit he pulls outta his ass. I feel bad for the Akuma she just wanted to escape not knowing this guy a freak.

heres him now!! He's much more dream accurate with the current events so far!!!!! If he appears next time I hope he croaks fr from the magic sickness like bro u a freak freak /neg

But yeah improvement is real!!! my art process is slower now (carpal tunnel) but I love to draw so much it is so fun if my bitchass ibis won't crash that is hehehehe (it crashed a million times trying to first time make a comic digitally I'm 💥💥💥)

[finefiddleheaded]

Hot take, but I actually really, really love Cassie Sandsmark's current costume.

It just... it looks like how I dress. I see me in that. I see my evolution in her evolution.

I too was an awkward (unwittingly) queer kid who thought every other girl in existence was born with innate knowledge I had no way of obtaining. In my younger years I generally looked like a dorky string bean.

Then as a preteen and teen I leaned real hard into being a tomboy. At the time my idea of fighting the patriarchy was to ~not be like other girls~, but if I'd allowed myself to be truly honest with myself I would have recognized that i actually didn't feel all that happy wearing baggy, oversized clothing and being mistaken for a boy. There's nothing wrong with that, let me be clear. But to me it was either THIS or THAT. And wearing or doing anything "girly" was giving in to the patriarchy. And that's not a really healthy way to make life choices.

Obviously Cassie did the opposite, leaning way into "doing girl right," but we were both reacting to same principle: there's a right way to be a girl and there's a wrong way and you need to either gather or throw away what doesn't conform. I was looking for a fight. Cassie was looking to belong.

What broke this mentality for me was moving to an art school thousands of miles from the heteronormative white suburb I'd grown up in. I met so many different people with different experiences of the world. And wow! Lots of them had personal styles that weren't Boy or Girl or Popular Subgroup with Distinct Rules (when i was a teen it was emo, scene, punk, prep.) And I started to go "hey no one knows me here... maybe I could try on being sexy or girly or pretty or cutesy or dye my hair or shave my head. Maybe i can play. No one here cares, there's no one to fight."

But poor Cassie had to try to do her wobbly, awkward self-exploration in front of the world, while standing next to Dianna Prince and Donna Troy (and getting bullied at school.) Everything she did or didn't do with her self-presentation was automatically in conversation with their choices. And as one would expect, often her attempts ended up looking either painfully clumsy or "not herself."

In college I had a close friend and roommate (a lesbian - i was the "token straight" in my friend group which lol no i wasn't), whose style embodied feminine cuteness. She always wore heels and had perfect makeup and wore pretty long skirts. Like Cassie did with Cissie, I paid attention to how she put on her makeup and copied stuff. She gave me tips when I asked about it. I felt awkward and clumsy and self conscious (and looked it, too.) After a bit I moved on, took a little bit with me (a lot of it wasn't my thing and honestly felt like i was cosplaying someone else) and starting trying other stuff.

Over time I also became acquainted with the wider queer community and learned the gender binary was false to begin with. (God, I wish I'd known sooner.)

ANYWAY what ended up happening was that I pieced together a really comfortable, eclectic style that's first purpose is to make me happy. Sometimes I wear makeup. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes i look like a witch with tall edwardian boots. Sometimes I look kinda punk. Sometimes I look like I stepped out of a historical picture. Sometimes I *do* wear baggy oversized clothes. I have brightly dyed hair. I've tried an undercut, and pixies, and long hair and the bisexual bob. I wear a large hat and a leather jacket and heels. I wear sparkly nail polish and bright red lipstick and I absolutely don't gaf what shape my eyebrows are.

But that took years and years of saying "oooh I like that look" and going home and trying it on. (Sometimes with the additional queer head scratcher of "do I like this look or am I just attracted to this person?" Yeah, definitely not something i can imagine Cassie ever thinking lmao)

But funnily enough you wanna know what makes up the bulk of my outfits nowadays? T-shirt, leggings, comfy skirt, and leather or jean jacket. And comfy 1920s workboots. Why? It's comfy and I feel cute with very little effort!

Anyway, that's why i earnestly love Cassie's stylistic evolution and back and forth with femininity (even if I have to retrofit/reclaim some uhhh pretty sexist stuff from the people writing/drawing her.)

Because this girl? She looks like she looked in a mirror this morning and went "damn, I'm cute." She looks like she chose that skirt bc it's comfortable and fun to twirl in and for the snap the fabric makes when she's flying. She looks like she feels cool with that jacket on. She looks like she put that eyeliner on and went "fuckin nailed it" when she got the point she wanted.

[skyward-floored]

What is Wars and Legend's relationship like in the Incredibles AU? I'd imagine it's a bit different from canon since that's his uncle lol

You’re right it’s different, partially because of their larger age difference, and partially because they’re uncle and nephew. Still teasing, but there’s less actual anger or anything behind it.

They grow a bit more antagonistic with each other after Sky goes missing, since that’s about when Legend grows more prickly/in line with his personality in lu (or the personality he projects anyway). But before that...

————————————————————

”Don’t take too much off the sides, and I want my bangs the same so don’t mess those up either, and when you’re done don’t—”

“Legend, it’s just a haircut, calm down,” Warriors soothed, and Legend crossed his arms from where he was seated on a stool in front of the bathroom mirror.

“Yeah, but then you’re gonna dye it, and I don’t want it messed up!”

Warriors chuckled, but his smile fell at the reminder of why he was dealing with Legend’s hair. He often gave his nephews trims, but this...

Legend’s hair, that they’d once been able to write off as merely an odd shade of red with blonde highlights, was now just too pink to easily explain away. They maybe could’ve tried to excuse it on hair dye, but Legend was a little young for anyone to truly believe he’d dyed his hair, and the school in the district they’d just moved to didn’t allow vibrant hair colors.

Which meant dyeing every bit of his pink the same color as the blond in his locks.

“You’re not gonna mess it up, right?” Legend asked suspiciously, and Warriors sighed.

“No bud, I’m not going to mess it up. I give you your usual trim, and then we dye your hair a bit so it looks more natural and doesn’t raise suspicion. That’s all.”

Legend hummed in agreement, not nodding so Warriors wouldn’t accidentally snip some hair he wasn’t trying to. His uncle got to work tidying up his hair, and Legend stayed mostly still, only tapping his foot now and then.

“It’ll be weird not having pink,” Legend murmured after a minute, staring at the mirror on the wall.

“I’ll miss it,” Warriors admitted. “It suits you.”

“It’s girly,” Legend sniffed, but Warriors could see the sadness in his eyes in his reflection. Warriors sighed again, moving around and beginning to work on Legend’s bangs.

“I’m sorry we have to do this,” Warriors apologized quietly, trimming another lock of hair. “It’s not fair you should have to dye your hair just because of your powers.”

“S’okay,” Legend shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “At least mine’s just hair. Twilight has to deal with the noise and everything with his powers. At least I don’t need earmuffs every time it thunderstorms.”

“Well I still think it’s a shame to cover up such a nice shade of pink,” Warriors sighed.

“I wanna look normal for school anyways,” Legend said, kicking his legs. “This’ll help. Blond hair is normal. Pink isn’t.”

Warriors raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment, doing one last look over the hair he’d trimmed, nodding to himself. Then he gave Legend’s hair a ruffle.

“Hey!”

“All done. Ready for the dyeing?” he asked, and Legend scowled as he batted his hand away.

“Only if you don’t ruffle it! You said you wouldn’t mess it up!”

“I didn’t mess it up! Calm down, Carrots,” Warriors said with a grin, and Legend crossed his arms, scowl visible in the mirror.

Then he turned his head invisible.

“Aw Legend, come on.”

“Don’t call me Carrots!”

“Kid, you have to admit, it’s fitting,” Warriors smiled. “Now come on, turn visible so I can color your hair.”

“No.”

“Legend, come on.”

“No way you... you Snowball!”

“Snowball?” Warriors spluttered, and Legend turned visible again, an absolute devious grin on his face.

“You! You’re a Snowball! Snowball Snowball, Warriors’ a Snowball—”

“Say that again, Carrots!” Warriors said, lunging at him, and Legend giggled as he jumped out of the way, turning into a bunny and skidding out of the bathroom.

“Snowball! Snowball Snowball Snowball Snowball—”

“Get back here!” Warriors hollered, but there was a glint in his eyes as he chased Legend around the house, almost wiping out on a corner when he slipped on his socks.

“No way Snowball! Snowball Snowball Snowball—”

“Oh yeah? Carrots! Carrots Carrots Carrots Carrots—!”

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Time said to Malon as he watched Warriors and Legend crash around, Legend squealing as his uncle nearly caught him.

“Oh let them have their fun,” Malon said, smiling at the looks on both of the boys’ faces. “They both need it.”

A loud crash interrupted Time’s reply, and he gave Malon a look.

“...but maybe we should encourage them to head outside,” Malon amended with a wince.

[electronicdreamgirl]

I WANNA CHANGE MY APPEARANCE- BUT NOT TOO MUCH! a list of possible ideas

1. Get highlights in your hair.

2. Get your nails done, or get some nail supplies and do them yourself (gel manicures are fairly simple to do at home if you have what you need).

3. Get bangs/ cut your hair just a little.

4. Get a piercing, or get fake piercings

5. Browse pinterest for a new style of clothing and invest in a new closet.

6. Get a lash lift.

7. Dye or bleach your eyebrows (use facial dye or bleach, e.g. just for men)

8. Laminate your brows.

9. Get colored contacts to wear for pictures/ going out (RESEARCH THE MATERIALS OF THE CONTACTS AND DONT WEAR THEM TOO OFTEN!!)

10. Prioritize exercise and body recomposition through the gym.

11. Invest in some new fragrances.

12. Invest in more/better skincare, including a body lotion and oil.

13. Get some hair oils and masks to improve your hair health.

14. Buy some fake tattoos to apply when going out if that's a vibe you like.

Let me know if you want part 2 💝💝💝