#and that repost is getting far more interaction than the person who made the gif.

[moonstrider9904]

💖 Your gentle reminder not to repost gifs 💖

💖 And if you absolutely must, saying "not my gif" isn't proper credit 💖

💖 Asking for permission before using a gif for a fic or a post is a thing, you should totally do it more 💖

💖 Respect a giffer who doesn't want their stuff reposted. 💖

💖 Respect boundaries. 💖

💖 Or use the tumblr editor's gif function, because as much of a pain as it is, it links to the original poster 💖

💖 Frankly, I get happy when someone uses a gif of mine through the editor and I see the mention. But when it's reposted without credit, not so much. 💖

💖 If you're going to repost a gif, know who made it and link to their post so that those who see it go support them for their effort 💖

💖 But it's much easier to just not repost gifs 💖

💖 And please don't reblog posts with reposted uncredited gifs. Support the person who created, not the person who reposted. 💖

💜 And dear fellow gif makers, I encourage you to not be afraid of watermarking your creations 💜

💜 If the people who consume our content for free are going to keep viewing us like machines then they could at least know our handles 💜

[spotofimagines]

Rivals Last ~ Jadon Sancho

A/N: So I had this in my drafts before he signed with man united but that's fine, we move, we adapt. A third piece for the @footballffbarbiex summer challenge. Hope you enjoy it :)

Warnings: none - reader is female

Summary: You love both your brothers dearly, but being in the football world with them can make some things a little complicated.

gif by @archivesbvb - gif by @ermuellert - gif by @italynt

Being a footballer meant living in a special world. Being in a footballing family meant living in a special world too. Being the younger sister of Lucas and Theo Hernandez meant living in a really special world. But nobody told you just how crazy it would be for all three of those things to apply to you.

You truly love watching your older brothers play football. They teach you something new during every match you see; even though you play as a striker, their movements and handling of the ball always inspire you to play better. After all, it was their defensive skills that helped you become a good goal scorer growing up since they never let a tackle go unchallenged in the park and you had to find out how to manoeuvre around them. A lot easier said than done.

Currently Lucas is signed with Bayern Munich. In his time there so far, he has learnt the heritage, history, and importance of wearing the badge and defending its honour in every match they play, especially derbies. Having supported Lucas, it quickly became easy for you to support Bayern Munich too and celebrate their victories like it was your own team. You'd always managed to do it with the clubs both your brothers played for, letting the atmosphere of the fanbase carry you away.

You have just finished your second season in England with Manchester City women's team. You'd settled in nicely now, having learnt a lot of the English language and culture already. The experience was made so much easier because of the help given by your welcoming teammates and the staff that translated things into French and Spanish during your first months there.

Fans were a little disappointed during the 2019 summer transfer window when it was confirmed all three Hernandez siblings would be leaving Spain to play separately in England, Germany and Italy, joking that no one could know what might happen with you all so far away. However, to you, it made things easier, as Lucas and Theo would stop making so many awful jokes about each other's clubs, only to join forces to diss your club even more afterward. Now the only connection you have to the clubs you all play for is the want for your sibling to win with them. And it is a great feeling. A welcome change of pace.

But no new change to your life felt as good as your blossoming "relationship", situationship, whatevership, you have with Jadon Sancho.

It all started with you flirting back and forth on social media, which turned itself into countless hours of DMs no one else could see. You congratulated his goals and he congratulated your wins. All the light-hearted teasing and the warm-hearted compliments stayed in your own little bubble. The only thing peeking out was your silly inside rule that if you were going to comment on a post, it had to be emojis only, stretching to a few words if you really couldn't help yourself - but it would earn you taunts from the other for the rest of the night.

Some eagle-eyed fans noticed how you'd been liking each other's posts every time they appeared for a while now, but it just added to the fun and thrill you got from flirting with him so much.

You weren't meant to be forming a bond with Jadon. He played for your brother’s rival. He was supposed to be the enemy. Someone you should dislike with a snap of your fingers. Certainly not a boy to fall for like you have.

You couldn't help yourself. Lucas and Theo had helped you since you moved to England by being the steady rocks they always were, cheering you on from afar. Your new teammates had helped you since you moved to England by introducing fun things for you all to do together and taking you under their wings. But Jadon had helped you in a different kind of way. He gave you a new kind of comfort and reassurance when you talked. He became someone to turn to with all your interesting news and your curious problems. He told you the good places to visit around the city that he remembered from his time there and taught you English slang to make your teammates laugh. You spoke three languages to varying degrees now, and you'd managed to pick up more German vicariously through Lucas in two years faster than Jadon had done living in Germany in four years, so you'd clue him into rude German phrases you had asked Lucas about, alongside the French and Spanish swear words he used more often than English ones now when you text. 

Even though a language barrier comes up once in a while, you have both learnt behaviours from each other and crave the contact you share. Jadon was starting to drop everything to send replies to you, a change his teammates have noticed and jokingly mock him for. Little did they know the unknown girl they joke he is smitten over is the sister of their rival.

Theo is the one in your family you usually tell about the boys you go out with; boyfriends and dates have been shared with him since you were 13 and doting on your first crush. He does the same with his girlfriends; asking advice and telling you more than you need to know at times. So, when you all went home for a bit of family time around Christmas, nothing could stop him from noticing the tell-tale signs that you had something going on. He already figured out through persistence that it was another player you were getting involved with, and his insistent questioning hasn't stopped in his search for who the player is.

But you keep it hidden from Lucas, and you don't know when you'll tell him. He has been your protector since you were kids, comforting you on sad nights when no one else was there, teaching you little secrets about how to navigate through the world, he even punched a boy who teased you once at school. The idea of telling him you were chatting romantically to another player would be trouble enough, but telling him it was a Dortmund player might just end up in another schoolground incident. You hadn't wanted Theo to know for fear he'd go dishing your dirt to Lucas, but he discovered it on his own and there was nothing you could do.

Who knows what might become of this thing you have with Jadon, and lord knows your eldest brother owns a hard as nails death stare that just might do Jadon in, but for now you actually quite like having the secret. A little mystery tucked away up your sleeve.

The rush you always get when Lucas calls your phone as you're typing a text to the Englishman,  feeling as though the first words from the other end will be shouts of how he knows everything and he'll never speak to you again for keeping it a secret, fills you with dread at times. But it never is the reason he calls, and it turns out he is just making plans or has something funny to tell you. But the way your heart thumps as you go back to texting Jadon, that is part of the chase you have to admit you enjoy.

Hardcore fans online have noticed the past few months that when you do interviews in English, the odd slang term comes up during jokes - terms you hadn't used before and stem more from London boroughs than northen towns - so speculation of how you'd learnt these things easily coincided with dating rumors.

Lucas had seen the speculation online; seen fans trying to put your interactions with the Dortmund player together through both your instagram stories and comments and the tweets you both had liked about the other. Lucas had even grown suspicious of the little questions you asked him about Germany, German phrases and his lifestyle there, not knowing why you would need nor want to know those things. But Lucas doesn't believe it. He knows that you know better to mix with a Dortmund boy.

Sometimes an older brother just doesn't get it quite right…

Soon, the chance will come to really see if your connection is something you can build on. Jadon's new signing with Manchester United has been confirmed and he will be moving back to England. It is a great opportunity to get to see him more often, rather than the odd rendezvous point or clandestine trip during small breaks in the season. You'll spend more time face to face instead of over the phone. You'll get to wake up in his bed and him in yours, without needing to sneak away from hotel rooms afterwards. You'll maybe even get to go on a proper date, just the two of you, where you can flirt across the table your joined hands rest upon. Hanging out with Jadon won't be the first time you've spent time together in person. However, getting a full day with only the two of you where you won't have to pretend you hardly know who he is, and you won't have to pretend your eyes aren't meeting across the group of people you're in - it fills your stomach with knots and butterflies.

A certain pressure has fallen off you now Jadon has no growing rivalry with Lucas, but not completely. You won't be able to take back the way their teams made the other feel in the past, but the fact there won't be more of it next season comforts you a little. The biggest thing that will hold you back from going public before the new season starts will be the media, but that is an issue you can't even begin to worry about yet. You are too caught up in the excitement of being in the same town as Jadon to care. Rumours are spinning crazier than ever about you two as some of your liked tweets about his move got reposted by sports pages and fan blogs - now joking about him being your rival instead of your brother's - and yet it didn't stop you, no longer all that bothered about keeping a low profile now you both will be living away from Lucas. If he gets mad, all he will be able to do is shout down the phone, and whilst you never want that to happen, you know the time to flourish with Jadon and capitalise on the foundation you have already built is better than ever, brothers be damned.

There are big changes coming for the both of you, yet one thing will remain the same no matter the outcome of your relationship. You can't quite stop being football rivals.

[cal-kestis]

You Come Around And The Armor Falls | Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

(Part II of The Aftermath of Losing Everything)

moodboard/sketch/gifs made by me, please don’t repost :)

Summary: You and Din continue your travels across the galaxy. A trip to Tython reveals your path and a stay in Sorgan breaks down Din's barriers. But red-stained visions will lead you both on a dangerous journey you can only hope to survive. (Set after S2) Rating: M (for reasons that will happen eventually)     Word Count: 7105 Warnings/Tags: Soft!Din, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn, no use of ‘Y/N’, cuddles, Din tells you more stories about Grogu and gives you a new nickname A/N: This chapter is very soft :’) 

[PART I] // [Read on AO3] // [Series Masterlist]

v.

Tython is a mountainous terrain, a landscape of rocky slopes and bumpy hillsides. 

From the viewport of the cockpit, you see a small mountain with six protruding pillars arranged in a circle on top. That must be the place. 

The Mandalorian — Din — makes a joke about traveling the last stretch with the windows down as he circles around it, chuckling to himself at some secret memory before landing the ship far from the ancient-looking pillars. 

When you exit the ship, he turns to you with his arms outstretched. And when he tells you to grab on, you back away immediately, finally understanding his joke. 

“We can definitely walk,” you argue, shaking your head and strutting past him.

“That’ll take too long,” he sighs, gently taking hold of your wrist until you stop in your tracks. “It would be dark by the time we got there.”

“I don’t give two bantha ticks. There’s no way in Malachor that I’m letting you dangle me through the air like a kriffing womp rat.”

“You say the strangest things when you’re angry,” Din chuckles.

“Don’t you have another jetpack?” You demand, ignoring his comment.

“Even if I did, you haven’t been trained in the Rising Phoenix.”

“The what?”

“Just hold on,” he mutters and you imagine his eyes rolling, a grin on his lips. He pulls your hands toward him, wrapping them around his neck. One of his arms rests on your lower back and the other scoops you up behind your knees, cradling you against his chest. Flames burst from his jetpack, launching the pair of you off the ground ungracefully as he adjusts to carrying another person. Your grip tightens around him for dear life and he can’t fight the smile on his lips when he feels you bury your face into his neck as he flies high above the mountains toward the pillars.

“We are never doing that again,” you say once your feet finally touch the ground.

“Come on. It’s not that bad,” he says, holding your shoulders as you regain your balance. “The kid loved it.”

You scoff, taking in the scene around you. The pillars look much taller up close, towering above you from all sides and pointing to the middle of the round platform where a smooth mound lies dead center. It’s covered in dirt save for the few shrubs that managed to blossom from the dry ground.

“It’s a rock,” you say, unimpressed as you circle the half sphere.

“Seeing Stone,” he corrects.

“Fine. It’s a stone and I’m seeing it,” you say, turning your gaze on him with your hands on your hips.

It's strangely fitting to look at him and see yourself reflected in the beskar, warped and wavy from the curves of his armor. His hands fall to his hips, mirroring your posture.

“So, what happens next?”

“I don’t know… exactly,” he admits with a long sigh. “There aren’t any controls. I just sat Grogu on the stone and something… happened. Ahsoka said if he reached out through the Force, someone might hear him. So, sit and reach,” he commands, gently nudging you toward the stone.

“Nonsense Jedi bantha crap,” you grumble under your breath, ripping another short chuckle from his chest. You smile, sitting cross-legged on the stone.

“Focus,” he says, hands on either of your shoulders before he backs away, remembering how last time, the energy field had knocked him back more times than he’d care to admit.

You close your eyes, concentrating on something you don’t quite understand. Your eyes screw shut tightly, wrinkling the skin between your brows, and you frown.

“Nothing happened.”

A leather-clad thumb trails a gentle line down the furrow between your brows, smoothing the wrinkles by your eyes with a gentleness that tugs your heart so fiercely, you almost fall off the stone.

“It will,” he says softly — confidently.

You open one eye to peek at him, watching as he steps away again and nods, fingers itching to pull his hands back to your face. A blue butterfly appears in front of your nose out of nowhere, another landing on your knee. You watch as they flutter around you in silent encouragement, take a deep breath, and softly close your eyes once more. One clammy palm presses into the stone beneath and you refocus your thoughts, reaching out for one thing: Din.

Din Djarin, a kind, gracious man hidden beneath impenetrable armor. How can someone who never shows his face be the most beautiful person you’ve ever known? You’ve never seen his smile, but you hear it in the baritone of his laughter and teasing. You’ve never seen his eyes but can feel them — concerned, curious, observant, warm — underneath a tinted visor. He gives you pieces of himself in ways that can’t be seen, but in moments that spread heat to your cheeks and flutters to your belly. And he takes little pieces of your heart in exchange. After years of surviving on your own, you never imagined you could care so deeply for another person.

Suddenly, a beam of energy encircles you in blue transparent waves and Din takes a few extra steps back just in case, a triumphant smile on his face as he whispers under his breath, “Good girl.”

He paces back and forth as you sit atop the Seeing Stone for nearly an hour, your eyes gently twitching, fingers brushing together, locked in a deep trance.

“Then, Grogu may choose his path.” Ahsoka’s words echo in his memory.

He wonders what your path is, if it will continue to weave with his or if it leads you far away. He doesn’t let himself hope, doesn’t let himself imagine — knowing full well how it broke his heart the last time.

Finally, he feels the powerful energy wane, your body collapsing over the stone, and he bolts to your side.

“I’m fine,” you assure him with a hand on the side of his helmet. “Just took a lot out of me.”

He nods, keeping silent despite his eagerness to hear what you found.

“Din,” you whisper, his name sounding like the lullabies of his childhood on your smiling lips. “I heard him.”

Din imagines a hooded figure leading you by your hand, leaving him behind.

“I heard Grogu,” you clarify and Din’s helmet whips toward you so violently, the way it slices through the wind is practically audible.

“You heard… Grogu?” He stutters quietly.

“Yes!” You squeak excitedly, standing on your feet, your hands holding tight onto his arms for balance. “He had quite a lot to say,” you laugh, and Din lets out a half-sob, half-chuckle, remembering the time his boy babbled nonsense the entire way from Nevarro to Corvus.

“How is he?” Din whispers so quietly he’s not sure if he spoke at all.

“His master says he’s getting stronger each day.” You wish you could see the pride in Din’s eyes. You know it’s there. “And he misses you, a lot.”

Din holds his breath, visibly fighting back tears.

“But he said he’ll see you again soon, just like you promised.”

You leave out the answer you gave to an invitation to join his master. And you leave out Grogu’s parting request: “Please take care of my father. He shouldn’t be alone.” But you tell Din everything else.

Tears drip down his cheeks and you see the wet drops slip out of his helmet and land on his cowl.

“Did you tell him that I—”

“Yes,” you say, a hand on the side of his helmet. “I told him.”

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you tight against his rapidly beating chest — similar to the way you’d done when he'd allowed you onto his ship.

“Thank you,” he says, helmet pressing against the top of your head, his gratitude rumbling through beskar into your skin.

—

vi.

He doesn’t ask you when you plan to leave him.

You don't give any inclination that you plan to stop traveling the galaxy at his side.

So, you find yourselves together on Sorgan, deciding to lay low for a while.

Sorgan is a swampy, humble planet. Nothing like Tatooine. To you, that makes it all the more beautiful.

Din brings you to a small krill farming village, which only adds to the planet’s enchanting charm. Children run through the fields as their laughter wafts in the air, enveloping you in a soothing balm. Men and women kneel over rivers with woven baskets full of the bouncing blue krill, soft smiles etched into their faces as they work.

When the Mandalorian saunters through the village, the children come bounding up to him in hoards, eager grins and grabby fingers boxing him in until he can’t walk any further. You can’t help but laugh as he visibly sighs before kneeling to greet them, accepting a small pink flower from one of the little girls.

Before you had landed, he’d mentioned visiting this village once or twice before. But it’s clear that he hadn’t just passed through. He’d made an impression. You half expect to find a statue of him in the center of the village after seeing the way the children looked up at him with stars in their eyes.

When the children finally leave to play, you follow several steps behind Din, watching his interactions with curious eyes. A beautiful woman with long, raven hair stops him with a gentle smile, her eyes softening with vast yet familiar constellations reflecting in her irises. It seems like there’s a history between Din and the raven-haired woman — something he’d failed to mention, but you try not to dwell on the uncomfortable way the idea squeezes at your heart.

Whatever Din says to the woman is too quiet to hear from this distance, so you settle for reading his body language. Although he speaks to you far more often now, you find you can understand him even without words.

The woman tilts her chin, a soft smile unwavering on her lips until Din shakes his head, the setting sun reflecting off his helmet as it moves right and left. His shoulders slump and the woman’s smile slips off her face as she reaches a sun-kissed hand toward his elbow and squeezes gently. The woman says something, confidence in her eyes, and Din nods.

Finally, Din glances in your direction and you gravitate toward him without instruction.

“This is Omera,” Din tells you.

The woman — Omera — smiles once again. “Hello. We’re happy to have you both as our guests. I’ll prepare your lodging,” she says, turning on her heel to leave the two of you alone.

“Thank you,” Din says. 

When Omera is out of earshot, you can’t keep the tinge of jealousy out of your voice when you say, “She seems nice.”

“She and this village were very kind to us when Grogu and I came here before. We can trust her.”

You nod, more curious to know what he’d just said to the woman.

“Did you tell her about Grogu?” You ask, wondering if you made accurate observations.

He’s quiet for a moment. “Yes.”

You see his shoulders slump again. Reliving the goodbye is never easy for him.

“It’ll be dark soon,” he says, changing the subject and wordlessly handing you the pink flower one of the children had given him earlier. When you don't take it immediately, he decides to tuck it behind your ear as you do with your pencil, sending a wave of heat down your neck. (Later, when you’re alone, you press the flower between the pages of your drawing pad for safekeeping.) 

“Looks like they’re pitching a fire. Hope you like krill.”

Dinner moves at a slow, peaceful pace, accompanied by friendly voices of storytelling strangers. They regale you with the fantastical tale of the legendary Mandalorian and the fearless former Rebel shock trooper who saved them from a band of pirates and a destructive Walker that stood tall above the trees — the two heroes who not only restored harmony but showed this village how to be brave and how to fight for themselves. You feel at ease sipping on spotchka, listening to stories honoring your friends.

But as the thought passes through your mind, ‘friend’ suddenly becomes the strangest word. It fits Cara Dune, the courageous marshal who you’d met several times on Nevarro, the woman you’d shared drinks and laughs with at cantinas, the warrior you’d trust with your life and Din’s life. But Din, your ‘friend’? The word seems to fall short.

After dinner, the villagers retire to their beds one after the other — leaving you and Din at the fire.

Din looks around at all the families, watching as one father carries his son on his back and a mother cradles a swaddled infant in her arms. He sees Omera and her daughter, Winta, in the distance — their hands joined and swinging between them as the little girl skips toward their humble home.

He clenches and unclenches his fists, the leather gloves silently screeching as the material sticks and peels away from itself again and again. His brows pinch together as he stares down at empty hands — empty hands that had foolishly allowed themselves to get used to holding someone else.

An image pierces his memory: three tiny green claws wrapped around his yellow-tipped thumb.

He blinks, blurry vision refocusing on his hands. Empty. 

You watch him intently, feeling sadness roll off of him in waves, drawing you in until you’re submerged just as deep, crestfallen on his ocean floor.

When the heart breaks, no amount of bacta can heal it. You can’t cauterize the lacerations carved inside of him or stitch the pieces together. But you can let your scarred heart bleed and beat next to his, until the heavy thud, thud, thud, thud evolves into the resilient rhythm of a somber symphony only the two of you know.

He exhales. It’s a weary, crackling sound behind his helmet.

“Sometimes, I wonder if I made the right choice,” he admits quietly like he’s ashamed.

“For him? For Grogu?” You ask.

He nods, the motion almost imperceptible if not for the glint of firelight that flashes off beskar.

“I know you did. Grogu is doing well. He told me himself,” you whisper, opening his clenched fist and molding your fingers between his. “You’re a good man.”

For a moment, the moons and stars disappear at the same time, enveloping you both in inky darkness save for the angry red flames that reflect against his armor. He decides not to speak, not right away, allowing a shivering silence to shroud him as he weighs his next words. The late evening decrescendos into a soft lull of the crackling fire, wind-bristled branches, and a familiar thud, thud, thud, thud.

“Sometimes,” his modulated voice finally rumbles. The dark window of his visor anchors itself on the way your hand completely fills one of his. Then he looks away, beyond the trees, beyond you. “I wonder if that’s true.”

You try to piece the words together yourself, try to make sense of him — how he can’t see what you can see as clearly as the roaring fire.

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. “I was scared to take you to Tython,” he admits.

“Because of what happened with Grogu the last time? You defeated Gideon. The Dark Troopers are gone, nothing was going to happen—”

“Not because of that,” he interrupts, taking a breath. “Because I… don’t want you to leave. And I feel selfish because you should be able to go — to train.”

Your heart beats faster at his admission, your mind mulling over his words to make sure you heard them right. A shaking hand reaches for his helmet, pulling his visor to face you.

“Di— Mando,” you whisper, taking a quick glance at the empty village. “I already chose my path at the Seeing Stone. I’m not leaving,” you reveal to him for the first time. You do everything you can to make him believe your words, squeezing his hand tighter, attempting to send your feelings through your skin into him.

“It isn’t right. You should train. You’re so powerful,” he says, almost to himself.

“No, I’m staying with you. And I know it’s right,” you declare, staring into the T-shaped visor where his eyes are. “You said Grogu knew where he was meant to be when he was young. He trained even before he met you. Letting him continue was the right thing to do for him. You did the right thing,” you argue. “But I didn’t go to some fancy Jedi temple. When I was a kid, all I wanted was... to not be alone anymore. And now, I’m not. This is where I’m meant to be.”

You watch as flames dance across his helmet, his body still as he stays silent. Then, suddenly, your body feels warmer than the crackling fire, encircled in his tight embrace. You stay wrapped together like that for several minutes, limbs wound around each other like vines. You almost fall asleep on his shoulder from the peaceful sound of his breath so close to your ear.

“Come on,” he says, the crown of his helmet now resting against your forehead. He gently detaches you from his body as he stands, extending his hand for you to take once again. “It’s late. Let’s go to bed.”

With your hands joined, gently swinging between your bodies, the two of you walk side by side to your shared lodging.

The hut is small and quaint, sparse in decoration but plentiful in necessity. A bed for two sits nestled in the corner of the single room, the soft orange glow of a lamplight casting hazy, billowing shadows against the wall. Din stands on the threshold, shifting his weight between his feet as you explore the room, your fingers gliding across the soft fabric on the bed.

“All clear, Mando. The bed doesn’t bite,” you tease him, his head shaking — probably rolling his eyes — as he closes the door behind him.

“I’ll take the floor,” he says, removing his cape and laying it on the ground.

“That’s ridiculous,” you argue, rolling your eyes this time. “We came to Sorgan to relax. You can’t sleep on the floor.”

“I’ve done worse,” he shrugs. You don’t doubt it.

“I don’t care. There’s plenty of space for both of us. If you don’t sleep on the bed, neither will I,” you resolve, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Who’s being ridiculous now?” He says, a hand on his hip as he stares you down. When you don’t relent, he sighs. “Fine.”

You practically bounce with delight, removing your socks and dusting off your clothes before diving under the plush covers. A breathy moan escapes your lips as your body sinks into the mattress and it freezes him in place on the other side of the room.

“Oh, stars. This is heaven,” you hum.

Din approaches the bed like it’s a rancor crouching in wait to devour him whole. His knee hardly touches the top of the mattress before you’re sitting up with another accusatory glare.

“You’re going to sleep in your armor?” You question incredulously.

He doesn’t want to argue in circles with you again, worried the other villagers may be able to hear, so he sits on the edge of the bed and removes each plate of beskar one by one, save for his helmet. He’s left in a long-sleeved top, dark pants, and woolen socks — his hands the only skin on display after removing his gloves.

He turns on the mattress, his feet resting beside yours as he lays his helmet down on a squishy pillow, facing your curious gaze once more.

“When was the last time someone saw your face?” You whisper.

“Not long ago,” he answers truthfully. “The child.”

“And your Creed?”

“He meant more.”

You nod, understanding full well that the love for another being can easily outweigh any rule or law or virtue or doctrine or belief or obligation.

You tuck your hand beneath your pillow, squinting your eyes as if trying to see through the panes of his helmet. You wonder, not for the first time, what he looks like when he rolls his eyes or laughs or smirks. You wonder if his eyes soften when he looks at you the way you know your eyes do whenever he’s near... if a dimple appears in his cheek just for you. Your knees bend slightly, touching his legs. 

“What happens if you take off your helmet?”

He doesn’t respond right away, as if looking for the correct answer.

“I used to think I could never put it back on,” he says, pain in his voice as the word ‘traitor’ echoes in his mind. “But now, I’m not so sure.”

You hum in acknowledgment, submerging the room into a long gap of silence, your eyes flitting across his covered face, your own features reflected in the silver steel. He watches as you close your eyes and wonders for a moment if you’ve decided to finally sleep. But then, your hand reaches in the direction of the open flame across the room, and with a flick of your wrist, the lamplight extinguishes, enveloping the room in complete darkness.

“You’re good at that,” he comments, a hint of a smile in his voice.

“It comes in handy,” you say, the fabric beneath your shoulder rustling as you shrug.

The room is quiet again, the steady sound of soft breathing filling the small space between your bodies.

“Din?” You whisper.

His eyes close at the sound of his name spoken so delicately by your lips. “Hmm.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” he answers, not missing a beat.

“I won’t look, I promise. I can’t even see. I just,” you pant as if speaking alone has made you breathless. “I can’t imagine sleeping with a helmet on is all that comfortable. You can take it off. You can trust me.”

Your hand trembles as it blindly reaches for the side of his helmet but his hand immediately traps you there against the beskar. You fear you’ve taken it too far when he pushes your hand back toward your side of the bed.

But then you hear it, the sound of air releasing, a puff of unrestrained breath, metal gently hitting the floor. And then his hand is holding yours again and placing it on his cheek, touching his skin for the first time. His eyelashes flutter against the side of your fingers, closing shut as your other hand tentatively explores the rest of his face.

He’s warm. Soft and rough at the same time. His entire weight leans into your palm and you think, this must be what it feels like to hold the entire universe.

“I never thought—” he suddenly whispers, a jagged inhale, a shaky exhale, his breath touching your lips. “After I lost the kid,” he continues, his thumb caressing your hand on his cheek. “I never thought I’d feel this again.”

You wonder what he means by ‘this.’ Touch? Tenderness? Warmth? Care? Or something much, much deeper?

You desperately wish you could see how he looks in this moment, feeling another person’s skin against his own after depriving himself for so long. Your fingers run across wrinkles and scars and you wonder, not for the first time, how long he’s had to carry these marks and stories all on his own. Your thumb finds the bridge of his nose, trailing down the strong curve until below it, a dense smattering of hair scratches at your skin.

“A mustache?” You ask, amused.

You hear his smile widen when he chuckles. “My father had one.”

It makes your heart ache, remembering the story he told you about his home planet, how his parents had sacrificed their lives to keep him safe. How the siege built his distrust of droids and redirected his faith to the Mandalorians who lifted him out of devastating danger. As you trace his mustache with reverence, you wonder what parts of his mother he wears like armor.

Below that, your thumb drags along the plush outline of his lower lip, from one corner to the other. You swear they’re lifted — at least just slightly. As you move your fingers across his cheeks, you find the shallow dip of a dimple and you smile so big he must be able to see it. His jaw is sharp and prickly, freshly shaved probably the day before. 

As he leans heavily into your hand, you think to yourself how much you want to help carry this weight for him.

“Can you say something?” You ask quietly, your hands still touching his skin, careful not to disturb the bubble you’re in.

“What do you want me to say?” He whispers.

“Hmm,” you respond, enjoying the feeling of his voice rumbling through your hand. “Anything. I just like the way you sound.”

For a second, you think you feel his lips press against your palm.

“Cuyan,” he says, the foreign word tickling your skin.

“What language is that?”

“It’s the tongue of my people: Mando’a,” he explains, his cheek stretching upward under your hand. “It’s not spoken much anymore.”

“It sounds beautiful. What does ‘cuyan’ mean?”

His hand falls into your hair, brushing the strands with his fingers. “It means survivor.”

“Like you,” you smile.

“And you.” 

You smile wider.

“Stars, please keep talking,” you plead, despite the peaceful yawn slipping from your lips. Your hand on his face wraps around his back instead, holding him like a pillow. Nestling your head over his heart, you feel the strong thud, thud, thud, thud against your ear — your own heartbeat starting to synchronize with his. His hand continues combing through your hair, his chest rumbling with a gentle chuckle.

“Kotep means brave,” he whispers, his voice weaving through the hairs at the crown of your head. “I remember the time I introduced you to Cara Dune. We were in a rush but she was taking her time pummeling someone into the dirt. And you rolled your eyes, took the blaster from her belt, set it to stun, and shot him. Then, you smiled, shook Cara’s hand, and said ‘Nice to meet you.’”

“Kotep,” you mumble, half-awake. “Maybe more stupid than kotep.”

“Sometimes, they’re one and the same,” he chuckles, making your entangled bodies shake. “Mirdala means clever. Like when you snuck onto my ship and convinced me to let you join my crew even though I wasn't looking for one. Or when you rewired the jammers so that our ship could scramble Imperial and New Republic codes.”

“Kotyc means strong. When you saved me from that rancor, I was terrified,” he whispers. He tilts his head down, his lips pressing against your hair as he listens to your slow breathing. You’re fast asleep, arms still wound loosely around him, cheek pressed against his chest. But he keeps talking. “Not of the rancor or even of you. You’re so strong, so powerful, just like the kid. I was terrified I’d have to let you go too. Then, you said you want to stay. And I felt so guilty because I was so relieved. But I want you to stay too, truly, for as long as you want, ner kar’ta. Ner kar’ta means my heart.”

He places a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“Before I met the kid... before I met you, ner kar’ta… I never thought I’d get to have this, whatever this is,” he whispers into your skin. “That was a past life. This is heaven.”

—

vii.

The few nights you stay in Sorgan give you ample time to study his features in the dark, etching them into your mind the way you would on paper.

Every night after the first, he whispers words like cuyan, kotep, mirdala, and kotyc as you fall asleep — some you remember and some you don’t.

When you leave Sorgan, you notice he wears his helmet less. Not outside of the safety of darkness and certainly not outside of the ship. But in quiet, shadowy moments and dim corners of your metal home — he feels comfortable enough to be without it.

He’s giving you a portion of what he knows he can’t fully give to you... not yet. But it’s like he’s inviting you, waiting for your hand to find its place on his cheek once again.

When you retire to your quarters each night, he powers off the lights and whispers, “Good night, ner kar’ta,” faint enough to make you wonder if he means for you to hear it. Ner kar’ta. It’s a beautiful phrase, one from his people’s language. He’d shared it with you that first night he let you know him, feel his skin with its scars and soft expanses. But for the life of you, you can’t remember if he taught you what ner kar’ta means. (You curse that comfortable bed and his warm arms for tempting you to sleep so easily.) The way he says ner kar’ta each time is like a sanctified prayer and you desperately want to know what Divinity has that he wants. 

Sleep had never come easy to you before. Not in your years of lonely nights surrounded by danger on Tatooine. Before you met Din, nightmares had been enemies you kept close like friends. Not by your own will, of course.

But nightmares quickly became scarce foes. Living with Din made you feel safe. He’s a protector, but more than that — he shows you the strength you have inside you like a mirror, his bravery reflected in your eyes. Kotep means brave. You remember that.

But as you feel yourself growing more connected to your powers, the Force, your dreams seem more vivid, more rooted in reality, peculiar prophecies. And nightmares feel like omens.

You have a recurring horror story that plays in your mind in fragmented flashes, pieces you’re too scared to dwell on in the clear light of day for fear they may form a mosaic of your own image, cast away in the vast expanse of space. Alone. Again. 

Tonight, the nightmare visits you and bathes your thoughts in red. You don't recognize the dreamscape from your travels with your Mandalorian, you only see the way it paints everything in a bloody tint and sets your skin on fire. Then, you see Din — hear him yell in agony under the attack of an invisible enemy. But you’re rooted to the ground, your limbs morphing into distorted vines and branches, dry screams ripping through your throat until you can’t make a sound.

“Din!” You gasp, waking up in a cold sweat in your darkened quarters, the desperate sound of your voice echoing through the ship.

“What’s wrong?” Din sprints in, panting as he skids to a stop. He turns on the lights to reveal himself in only his underclothes and helmet, head snapping back and forth as he examines the scene. When nothing seems out of place, his shoulders relax. “Are you okay?”

Your chest heaves as you attempt to steady your breath, not realizing tears are rolling down your face until he comes forward to wipe one from your cheek.

“It was just a dream,” you say, not fully believing your words. “But it felt so real.”

The edge of your thin mattress sinks at the same time you feel his bare hand brush a sweat-slicked strand of hair out of your face. His fingers comb through your hair and settle at the base of your head before he pulls your face into his soft chest. The steady beating of his heart under your cheek immediately helps yours slow down.

“I’m here. You’re safe,” he says, and all you can do is fist your hand in his shirt and hold onto him, anchor yourself in his solid body because it’s not you that you worry about. Not this time. But you don't tell him about the nightmare or the fragments that have been haunting you the past few days. You just listen to the way he breathes in through his nose and sighs through his lips.

“Scoot over,” he whispers, untangling himself from your arms. You sniffle and do as he asks, giving him room to settle under your covers and wrap his arm around your back so you can use his chest as a pillow. “Do you mind getting the lights?”

You chuckle, closing your eyes and levitating the pencil on your drawing pad until it hits the controls for the lights and blankets the room in darkness. Almost immediately, you hear the hiss of Din’s helmet and the light thud of it hitting the floor before you feel his soft hair touching the top of your head.

He holds you, his thumb stroking the skin on your arm, his breaths coming out as warm puffs against your hair. And like those nights in Sorgan, you let your fingers draw smooth shapes into his skin and rest over his heart.

“Do you want to hear about the time I took Grogu to school?” He asks quietly, indulging you with the deep rumble of his rich voice.

You tilt your face upward and try to see his smile in the pitch black, nodding your head so his shirt beneath your cheek rubs against his chest. You want to hear every story about his past as long as he says it with his voice and his hands on your skin.

“I was on Nevarro, just passing through for repairs. And of course, I ended up on a mission at an Imperial base,” he chuckles, sending vibrations through you.

“Of course,” you laugh with him.

“I couldn’t take the kid with me. Karga and Dune brought me to a school, so I left him there for a while.” Your hand raises to his cheek so you can feel that pull of his smile under your fingers. “Mid-mission, I have to bolt from the base, grab my ship, and pick up the kid on the way. I’m in a rush and the educator droid tries to keep me, saying my son stole some poor boy’s snacks. I don’t have any time for the droid to explain more and just mumble sorry and grab the kid. He’s got little blue crumbs all over his cloak and a silver packet of cookies. He ate so much he got sick on the ship when I flew back to help the others near the base.”

You feel Din shake his head, laughing at the memory.

“I had to let him wear one of my tunics while I washed up his clothes. I even tried sewing up the bottom so it would protect his feet better,” he snickers. “Not the best stitching job I’ve done.”

You don't think your heart has ever felt so full and large and ready to burst. You love listening to him talk about Grogu, the fondness in his voice tugging you impossibly closer to him until the two of you blend into one.

“He whined for hours when he finished those cookies.” He muses, lifting one of your hands and drawing lines on your palm with the tip of his finger. “Such a little womp rat.”

“Wonder where he got it from,” you tease, your voice still scratchy from tears but laughing in genuine amusement.

He scoffs, the mirth never leaving his honeyed voice. “I only ever taught him strength, honor, and loyalty.”

“Oh, I’m sure. This is the Way,” you say, attempting to imitate his deep baritone.

“You really like to give me a hard time, don’t you?” He teases.

“Ah,” you grin. “The Jawa calls the Ewok short.”

He stills before bursting into a full-bodied laugh. “I’ve never heard that one before,” he gasps between wheezes.

You laugh with him, your shaking bodies gradually calming into a slow vibration of charged energy. You can’t see it but you feel his eyes looking into yours when his breaths settle down, his thumb now tracing over the slope of your lip.

“Sleep, ner kar’ta,” he says, stroking his fingers over your hair once more. And you desperately want to ask what it means, why he calls you this beautiful phrase. But soon enough, your eyes are closed and he kisses your head before letting sleep take him as well.

When he wakes in the early hours of the morning, your quarters still mostly covered in the ship’s shadows, he gently slides himself out of your hold and tucks you deeper under the covers, before putting his helmet back on and walking to the fresher.

On his way out of your room, he notices a sliver of light peeking through the doorway and a splash of pink catches his eyes. He looks down to find your open drawing pad sitting on your dresser, the pink flower he gave you on Sorgan pressed and dried onto one page.

And on the page beside it is a rough charcoal portrait of a man that looks vaguely like him. The sketched face shares the hooked curve of his nose, a mustache below it covering his lips, and wavy locks atop his head. But the other features are empty, blanks waiting patiently to be filled in once you fully grasp the picture.

Beside the off-white space where his eyes should be, he sees a note in your scribbled handwriting that reads: 

Eye color?

He takes the pencil lying between the stitched binding of the booklet and gives you another piece of himself, writing below your question:

Brown.

— 

viii.

When you wake, you half expect to find your cheek still pressed to a warm, beating chest, strong arms wrapped around your body, perhaps even a charming snore blowing the hair at the top of your head. Instead, when you open your eyes, the space beside you is cold and empty, and you wonder if it had all been a fantasy you’d conjured to erase the nightmare that had plagued you moments before.

But when you slip out of bed and pad over to your door, you spot your drawing pad which you’d left open. And below the question you’d scrawled across the page, you find his answer and can finally put a color to his eyes — a rich, warm, melting hue that fits his gaze so perfectly you think there must be a Maker putting these pieces into motion.

You grab the pencil from the booklet, place it behind your ear, and go to find him.

Leaving your quarters, the ship feels unusually frigid and you hold your arms tightly to retain the residual warmth from the bed covers.

When you walk into the cockpit, you half expect to find Din in his plainclothes again, giving you a chance to wrap your arms around his waist and whisper “good morning” into the soft planes of his chest without his beskar blocking the way. Instead, you find him fully-armored, crouched over with his elbows on his knees, helmet hung low and held between gloved hands. In front of him, a holoprojector loops a message from a pale, uniformed woman.

“Din Djarin,” the grave voice addresses him by his full name, sending shivers down your spine. “Yes, I know exactly who you are. If you don’t want the entire galaxy to put a name to your face, you will help me devise a plan to release Moff Gideon from the New Republic detainment facility. We will send you coordinates to an Imperial base shortly.”

The blue projection vanishes briefly before starting again in a haunting cycle.

“Din,” you whisper, startling him out of his stupor, his helmet whipping around as if ready to take aim and fire. You walk toward him slowly, kneel in front of him with a gentle hand on his knee, and face the holoprojector. “Who is that? How do they know your name?”

He sighs, his helmet falling into his hands once more.

“When Gideon took the kid, I had to make a choice,” he says, voice rough and ragged despite the hours of restful sleep he got the night before. “I snuck into an Imperial rhydonium refinery on Morak to get Gideon’s coordinates from a data terminal. But the terminal required a facial scan.”

“They have your face in Imperial data archives,” you gasp, the understanding poisoning your veins and causing your heart to drop into your stomach.

“They have everything in the archives,” he corrects, his modulated voice distant and detached. “And they’re about to take it all away.”

“No,” you whisper. Standing up suddenly, anger washes over you at his quick defeat. “No! I won’t let them. There must be something we can do.”

“I won’t free Gideon,” Din says, stern and almost frightening in his resolve.

“I’m not saying we break him out,” you respond, hands up in defense. “But there’s always more than one way to skin a womp rat.”

Your heavy footsteps echo in the small space of the cockpit as you pace back and forth. Din’s helmet follows you slowly as you walk in circles and he sees the gears turning in your mind. You pull the pencil behind your ear towards your lips and gnaw at it with your teeth, an action he quickly learned meant not to talk to you lest your brewing idea slips from your skull. The holoprojector repeats its threat over and over, the voice grating against the metal walls until it begins to sound like an endless shriek. And with a roar of frustration, your clenched fist comes flying down onto the holoprojector until the image fizzles away.

“I’ve got it.”

The plan goes as follows: Send the Mandalorian to the Imperial base under the guise of full cooperation and stall the holoprojector Imp for as long as possible. This will give you enough time to sneak in through an air vent (“Or… something.” “Or something?” “Yes, Mando. Whatever’s convenient at that moment!”), find a terminal, and hack the system, wiping every Imperial archive of Din Djarin.

“That’s a horrible plan,” he says.

“It’s not ‘horrible,’” you argue.

“It’s dangerous.”

“You got something better?” You challenge.

His long sigh is enough of an answer.

“So, we’re doing it then,” you say, suddenly a million times more nervous than when you’d laid out your blueprint for him. “Punch in those coordinates. Let’s go pay a visit to some Imps.” [READ PART III]

End Notes: Please support this story with a reblog or comment in the replies! I’d love to know what you think of it so far. :) (Also, I know the Seeing Stone is more of a beacon but let's just say you can talk to other force-sensitives if you meditate deep enough.) Btw, zoom into the moodboard to see the sketch of Din. Should I upload the full size? Mando’a Glossary: Cuyan = survivor [koo-YAHN] Kotep = brave [KOH-tehp] Mirdala = clever [MEER-dah-lah] Kotyc = strong [koh-TEESH] Ner kar’ta = My heart (kar’ta = heart [kah-ROH-ta]; ner = my [nair]) Star Wars slang: The Jawa calls the Ewok short = When somebody comments on or accuses someone else of a fault which the accuser shares.

[lesbiancarat]

Book anon here to say today is a happy day because it is dk and vernon day ^0^ the fact they share bdays makes my heart so big like djakdnaks that's the best thing really! (I say this as I don't like celebrating my own birthday lol but that shiz makes me soft) like how can it not get better than sharing a birthday with your fellow bandmate who is also your buddy :'))

Back on topic, I am happy that in the fandoms I'm in, update blogs or accounts are well loved so no drama there but I agree on cc peeps, my gosh the decline of them is obvious for the past 2 years =/ I remember 2018 the carat fandom here was HUGE with creators and lots of notes but now...its hard to see more than 200 for some and while numbers don't matter because you should ALWAYS be doing this for fun, its so shocking to see the interaction go so low and its more likes. I do have a theory as to why this is the case and it might be due to nowadays, people on Tumblr find reblogging alot to be "too much" akaspamming. I would know because some told me I do this and I'm like ??? I am simply reblogging content I like and if it means hitting the rbelog limit so be it djajdjw. Legit idk why its seen as bad nowadays when everyone used to reblog alot and no one complained so maybe this could be why? Again a theory but it would make sense and its a shame if this is the case :c I admit I like stuff because I sometimes do reblog it for a color theme but mostly I hit the reblog limit so I want to reblog it later xD

But let's not get into people that take others work as their own -.- now I get giving credit for say icons (I do this for icons and headers I use because its the least I can do. I would link it but idk how to do it on Tumblr lol) but taking someone's say gif and just posting it on twitter to share is like ??? You do know there is a share button that SHARES THE ORIGINAL LINK BACK RIGHT? Smh i can't with people. That's why I try to make sure for icons at least I know its not a repost and try to stay away from pintrest as best as I can (also svt on pintrest? Are they making moodboards or smth? I leave Tumblr for a bit and this is what I come back to lol)

Oof I wrote too much again sjamdna I'm living up to my emoji huh? XD but yes my tooth is better! It hurt again last night but today we are good!

I'm late answering this but yeah the fact that dk and vernon share a Birthday is super sweet! it's fun that they get to do their birthday live together as well ^^

but yeah i joined carat tumblr around late 2017/early 2018 (i made this side blog during oh my era but I'd been reblogging svt stuff on main before then) and I'm p sure most if not all the cc's i originally followed are inactive now :( obviously like you said content creators should make content for fun and bc they want to and not for the notes, but it's understandably disheartening when less people are interacting with it and even the people who do still see your content are (at least seemingly) less enthusiastic about it (ie liking but not reblogging it, less ppl writing things in the tags or replies, etc.)

but that's so wild to me? I've never heard anyone say someone is reblogging too many things like... how do you expect to see posts if people don't reblog stuff?? id welcome that extra content on my dash dhfjfh. i guess you can go in specific tags but like. idk reblogging is the main function of tumblr i don't know why there are people sort of against it/not as willing to use it (i mean... i suspect at least one factor is other social media platforms relying more on algorithms and likes to show people new content and ppl are just more used to that maybe?)

i feel like to some extent people feel entitled to have every or any gif or fanart or fan content on their platform of choice, but like if an artist posts something on tumblr but not on twt or instagram it doesn't HAVE to be on twt or insta. people can make a tumblr (or whatever platform) account if that's the only place a creator is active and they really want to see their content. and if people want to share something cool to another platform it is not hard to just post a link to the original post and tell people to check it out. like i do that every once in a while if there's a translation that doesn't allow reposts, but i still want ppl to know that trans exists if they wouldn't normally. and yeah!! you're gonna get less engagement that way!! but that's when you need to question whether your intention is really to share something cool w people who wouldn't normally see it or if you just want clout from this cool thing for yourself

and obviously not everyone who reposts things wo credit or permission has such innocent intentions as "i want to share this cool thing" but i think in a lot of cases it is something similar to that where ppl see something and they want to use it or share it for whatever reason and they just forget that it's something an actual person took the time to create and chose to share it. fan creations, unless otherwise specified, are not like memes in that they're intended to be shared and edited and copied to hell and back

but yeah pinterest is the worst in terms of reposts. like very little if any of the content on there (at least that's fandom related) is original content. the vast majority is reposts from other platforms without credit. a few weeks ago i saw someone on twt post like an old SVT photo or something and someone asked where it was from and they were like 'idk i saw it on pinterest' and when i tell u my blood boiled dhfkfj like!! ok!! so you're reposting a repost and u have no idea what the original source is... great

but yeah i have no idea what SVT is gonna do with pinterest... guessing it's just gonna be pledis posting official/behind photos that they also post on twt anyway. it really looks like it's something bh made them create given other bhl artists also have pinterests they're all following each other. also pledis didn't even officially announce the new account opening anywhere as far as I've seen so like. i think they really don't care dhfkfj

i really don't know what bh thinks they're gonna gain though like. ik there are active fandom pinterest users but i think most of them also have other social media like twt or insta. like they're not cracking open a huge new market, and LITERALLY NO ONE expects any musician or celeb to have an official Pinterest so. it's just so unnecessary dhfkgj

I'm glad your tooth is feeling better!!!

[honeyfreckled]

Forming a group

I have a lot to say so this will be a series of posts or I’ll reblog this one with my new info as we go. Kay so. Tag to blacklist will be: honey forms a group

Me and mutual @sebastiansloserclub are forming a group on here.

Some things abt who can join:

You don’t have to be just a SebStan blog

You don’t have to be a MCU/DC/anything comic or superhero related

You don’t have to be into the other popular mainstream buff dudes (Henry Cavill, Chris Evans, Hemsworth, Oscar Isaac, Etc.)

You don’t have to be a fandom acct of any kind

It’s okay if you have made stuff but have never shared anything

If you don’t make content, BUT are open to learning

You have knowledge of writing, art, gif making, programming, picture editing, photo editing, photoshop, design, tech, video making, editing (writing or tech or art)

You are not the kind of person who will only like things but never reblog

You are not the kind of person who will play favorites or only interact with ppl who have a high follower count/popularity

You are not the kind of person who sends anon hate

You are not the kind of person who wants only popularity

You are down to support unique ideas, offer constructive criticism, be able to take constructive criticism

You are not the kind of person who will play mind games, ghost ppl, discriminate against minority groups

You don’t ascribe to what is often referred to as “boomer” mentality (idk what else to call it w/out being longwinded)

You are open to tagging things when ppl ask (esp in cases where the content is nsfw or possibly triggering)

You know and understand the faux pas for using tumblr are (taking over a post not made by or specifically for you w tagging large numbers of ppl, turning what was originally just a suggestive or flirty gif or post into an overtly sexual one, being overtly sexual as a constant, having conversations in reblogs rather than taking it to PMs)

You are not the kind of person who will rip off ideas (this isn’t directed at tropes/trends/and ideas that were meant to be shared purposely)

You are not the kind of person who reposts someone else’s original content w the excuse that you couldn’t find the OP/artist

You are not the kind of person who will steal and repost gifs

You are not the kind of person who isn’t open to help others unless you are getting something out of it (follow for follow, reblog for reblog, stacking odds, etc)

This is just a bit of the criteria. Our aim for this group is to find a family. A tight knit group of friends who are not fussed with our follower counts, our notes, or gaining dominion over any other accts/ppl. Our goal is one we have always wanted and why we went thru the hassle of sharing our works on here in the first place: we long for friends who will provide feedback, words, opinions on the things we make. Artists of any kind require an active audience, and the best kind of audience is not one that offers empty platitudes or asskissing so that they will get it in return. The most productive and helpful way to be a consumer of someone else’s work is to tell that creator SOMETHING, something more than “loved it do more!” something that will get that creator reaching for their pen again, itching to make more, excited to show their work bc they know they will hear back things they can take away and use when they create next time. 

Artists on tumblr have BEEN underappreciated. And fic writers in particular face many obstacles when it comes to posting writing. Arguments that frame them as just clout hungry, angry readers who are always quick to complain, but never say a word when the writing is out of this world amazing. In fact it is almost like the writer is constantly begging for any lil scrap of any love. They end up accepting demanding requests from unappreciative anons just so they can feel like someone cares. It ain’t okay w me and I refuse to partake any longer. Hearing from so many of my beloved mutuals going thru the same thing has worked this girl up. I’m raring to go.

So, if you have read this far and seem interested. Send me a message or ask and we can start chatting more. I CANNOT VIEW REPLIES, SO PLEASE DO NOT ATTEMPT TO CONTACT US THIS WAY! This will be a small club, we wanna keep it close knit so each member can provide support and help w editing and beta’ing and such and such. We are not aiming for popularity like I said, so if you thinkin’ this will be something that comes out w huge challenges and daily prompts this isn’t for you. I’ll explain more like I said. But again, just wanna reiterate- there will be rules in place and it is probably not gonna be like other groups you may see on here. 

[superemeralds]

fanon shadow beef

[ I’m going to ramble about headcanon shit and stuff that I see done out of character in fanon in no particular order. This might be very chaotic so bare w me. ]

Everyone else: 

Shadow uses guns on a regular basis. 

He is not repulsed by guns. 

Shooting is one of his hobbies. 

He probably owns at least one gun and keeps it at home.

 Me: 

Shadow is very uneasy around firearms and avoids using them at all costs. 

The sound of gunshots (and similar loud sounds) makes him flinch. 

(On new years he retreats into his cabin in the woods so e doesn’t have to hear the fireworks.)

There’s very obvious reasons for that yall.

He avoids demands to "do his job cleaner" by using guns. 

Shadow is for gun control and strongly advocates for making it illegal for private households to own and store guns.

He Hates Guns. 

He. Hates. Guns. 

The reason he joined GUN despite it being a very triggering environment is because he has the mindset that he has to endure exactly this to overcome it.

+ he has to make sure that GUN doesn't go down that path again. You all know what I mean (and we all know that they will) 

After all this time, the commander from ShTH and Shadow made up, after covering up all misunderstandings and acknowledging they were both young and heavily manipulated back then. For the short while that this commander is still in charge Shadow has great faith that GUN will take a good turn, which is what moved him to join (they probably discussed it at the dinner that the commander (canonically!) invited him to with his family.

Additionally, he wants access to their data bank to learn as much as he can about the planet and secrets that governments might have. 

He never obeys his orders without question and often breaks rules and opposes GUN, sabotaging missions and just generally doing his thing while using his status in the organization to get what he wants. 

Due to his position and the sheer fact that he is the ultimate life form (and way too valuable to not be “under GUN’s control”) the authorities can’t punish him in any way for his betrayals and kinda get used to it.

God I have So Much Beef with the wiki page for him lmao lemme just. :)

<< Shadow also has a ruthless and merciless edge in combat that all other characters in the series lack, and displays a natural "killer instinct". >>

He only intended to kill Sonic in SA2 because he was blinded by rage and he planned to destroy the entire planet anyways.

I hate when people call shadow merciless and murderous and “killer instinct”... That’s not him...

He was TRAINED to be like this but that’s not who he really is.

Of course that learned behaviour isn’t easily unlearned, even if he cant remember when and how he learned it, but he has his own morals, too, and he is very very much against senseless death. If he can prevent it, he sure as fuck will do all he can do to save a life.

In Shadow’s eyes life is precious, something extraordinary. He promised to Maria to protect it, and he, himself, thinks of it as something worth protecting. Its true that he has a lot of trouble to accept his own feelings and thoughts as important and valuable, but that is due to the way he was raised. 

(as an experiment that is not treated like it has its own will, he was constantly told to comply in experiments, but they never even bothered to tell him what this was all for or engage in deeper conversation with him; as we can see in SA2 when shadow talks to Maria about how confused he is about his purpose of existence.)

More than enough I see him frown or be disgusted or just. plain angry at nothing in particular in fanart. (or the evil bloody murder type of character... or him proudly holding guns or shit :)))))) Hm... )

There’s a difference between an angry face and a person that just doesn’t smile as neutral expression. like… there just are people who have a neutral expression but look unhappy because their mouth naturally rests in a ^ position instead of a - or a v …

<< In the original Japanese version, where Shadow omits honorifics and speaks highly of himself (if not rudely), though contrasting this, in Japanese he normally uses the "boku" pronoun when referring to himself as opposed to the more arrogant/confident "ore" pronoun (which characters such as Sonic use). >>

okay so the difference between boku and ore is that ore is VERY casual and mostly used when talking to someone you are close to, or when you're just really sure of yourself. Boku is a pronoun used mostly by young boys or when someone speaks humbly abt themselves.

And I don’t know how this confuses anyone, since Shadow did grow up on a fucking space station and that’s all he’s known, and he was probably treated like a child, even when he was grown up. Plus, Shadow might be a little arrogant and think very highly of himself (which he mostly does because all his life he was taught that he is a very special and superior life form, mind you), he still very much respects whoever else he is talking to, and he doesn’t take credit for his powers or the things that make him special. He’s the “it’s not a big deal” kind of guy. And he doesn’t mean it in a derogatory way, he means it in a way, that he doesn’t want to trouble the other person.

Making the other person believe that he has everything under control and that he’s okay gives them a sense of security in tense situations, which can be vital to success. 

The way he interact with people might come off as rude and arrogant, but he does act with the best intents for the people around him. It’s just that even when his intent is well, his thoughts might be destructive rather than productive. (for example him thinking his feelings don’t matter and bottling them up.)

<< On occasion, Shadow appears to have some degree of mental instability. This is demonstrated by his instances of post-traumatic flashbacks to Maria's face prior to and during the events of Shadow the Hedgehog, though it could be argued that they were simply an effect of his amnesia. >>

whoever wrote this please eat a cactus

PTSD is not a joke and it’s definitely not just amnesia induced stress.

I remember seeing someone repost a gif of Shadow looking around anxiously shortly before having a flashback and saying how “cute” it is how “observant” and “jumpy” he is……

Those are PTSD symptoms and I hate how people make them the joke of a comic oftentimes. Sure these people could be uninformed but im just… Think a little more about it before making this shit up bc it physically hurts to see.

<< In Sonic Forces, it's heavily implied that Shadow ruthlessly slaughtered an entire mercenary band not only in an extremely dismissive, nonchalant manner (not even remembering the incident a few months later), but also seemed slightly proud, mocking the mercenary defence squad by saying they themselves needed a defence squad. >>

Sonic forces can fuck off its bad writing and it’s not shadow.

I made a comic showing what REALLY happened in episode shadow because *rolls eyes* sega doesn’t know their own characters.

[ read it here ]

Shortly summarized and in reference to what I said before: Shadow deems life precious and worth protecting, he would never kill without having a good damn reason to do so. (Like when he sees no other way to prevent a GREAT catastrophe or when the person just really DESERVES it. )

<< Shadow also possesses some sense of identity, as evidenced when after falsely being told that he isn't the Ultimate Lifeform due to a lab report. He states to Rouge that even if his memories were fake, he is still Shadow the Hedgehog. Similarly in Sonic Heroes, during the Egg Fleet level, he mentions that even without his memories, he is still the Ultimate Lifeform, Shadow the Hedgehog. These qualities make him rarely susceptible to being manipulated by other forces. >>

LMAO YEAH BECAUSE HE’S BEEN MANIPULATED FAR TOO MANY TIMES IN THE PAST HE’S DONE WITH THAT. 

:))))))) BACK TO THE PTSD SYMPTOMS

He is incredibly distrustful and keeps mostly to himself, because he can’t be sure that someone else would (a)buse him for their own gain :) betray him, or do something horrible to him (or someone he’s close to).

His identity as Shadow the Hedgehog, the ultimate life form, is literally ALL HE HAS LEFT IN THIS WORLD.

Everyone he knew and was close to DIED. He woke up 50 years in the future, all alone. He literally had NOTHING.

He didn’t even have a reason to live, which motivated him to carry out Geralds plan to destroy the planet.

<< Despite his apathetic nature, Shadow is not without compassion and has shown concern for others at certain times. >>

I think you mean…. 

Despite having trouble to convey his feelings of compassion and concern for others, he is shown to make attempts of support through his actions and carefully chosen words.

As already mentioned, Shadow never learned how to socialize, he’s awkward about it, and on top of it all he has trouble trusting and opening up to people. Stop saying he doesn't care, he just doesn’t know how to show that. 

Also Shadow is a very logically thinking person, so he might look at things a different way than others and see things very dry and objectively. He doesn’t mean to be rude or evil, whatever he does is always with the other people’s possible concerns and feelings in mind. (He just has trouble to read their emotions and imagining what they might think/how they feel about a situation).

<< Shadow brushes off most kindness or sympathy that is sent his way; in Sonic Heroes, when Rouge showed concern for Shadow when he saw a broken android, Shadow curtly brushed her concern away. >>

GOD. That’s because he doesn’t know how he feels about the situation himself yet. He also feels like he doesn’t deserve concern or worry from other people; and he very strongly dislikes making others feel bad. Making other people worry about him makes him a bother, and he doesn’t want to be an inconvenience. He puts on this mask of strong ultimate soldier that has everything under control, so he doesn’t hinder anyone from reaching their own full potential.

I mean.. I mentioned this like 3 times now but this is SO important!!!!

He appreciates support, but often times he feels like it’s shallow or the person might have secret intentions; so he only ever truly accepts it when he feels like it was genuine and deserved.

<< Despite the fact that Shadow often fights for the greater good, he is considered an anti-hero by the most part due to his morality. He does whatever is necessary to get what he wants or feels is right, though this enthusiasm causes him to take risks and jump into situations without fully thinking it through. >>

B-But that is the definition of anti-hero….

SOMEONE WHO DOES WHAT THEY WANT/HAVE TO DO TO ACHIEVE WHATEVER THEY THINK IS RIGHT ???

He’s just chaotic neutral you fungus………

<< Shadow's fighting style focuses on brutal, unrestrained and powerful hand-to-hand combat. In line with his nature and potent abilities, Shadow has adopted a fighting style where he fights his opponents using powerful blows, such as karate chops, swift punches and roundhouse kicks, to which many of his attacks have a significant amount of force behind them. With the speeds Shadow can move at, he can disable the opponent through the force of his blows alone, while leaving them at the mercy at his incoming attacks. >>

HERE’S THE TEA:

He attacks his opponents with such heavy blows hoping to take them down with minimal effort, but without actively harming them too much. 

His attacks are chosen very carefully. In 06 his chaos spears even just paralyzed his opponents asjfhsakj like. he can do that.

AS ALREADY MENTIONED: shadow is out to immobilize; not to kill.

putting opponents out of commission is the goal, not to end their life in vain…. it’s RIGHT THERE

<< With the speeds Shadow can move at, he can disable the opponent through the force of his blows alone, while leaving them at the mercy at his incoming attacks. >>

HE DISABLES EM WITH ONE BLOW SO HE CAN JUST GO ON WITH HIS MISSION ASJKHFASKJ

this whole “leaving them at mercy” bullshit is unnecessary and incorrect.

<< While not having any physical weakness, Shadow was initially a somewhat easy target for manipulation during the time he had amnesia due to his confusion about who he was. >>

THIS IS IT! MY ENTIRE BEEF WITH HOW THE FANDOM TREATS SHTH AS A GAME!!!!!!!!!!! HOLY SHIT!!!!!!! HOOOOOOOOLLLLYYYY SSSSHHIIIIIITTTTTT!!!!!!!!!! LET ME TELL YOU

okay so the whole POINT of the game is to show the player ALTERNATIVE TIMELINES in which shadow is manipulated in slightly different ways which lead to slight changes in his personality and like. with all the selective information he received he can be manipulated into becoming different kinds of people. 

i don't see how people dismiss the entire game as not canon?????, IMO those are all very valid and canon alternative timelines??? like… canon AUs???????

you can't just throw the entire game under the rug??? 

and saying things like “shadow is an android now i guess bc of that one shth ending” im..,

he was MANIPULATED into BELIEVING so. Eggman lied to him so he would obey him. (or just to make him unstable enough to be able to restrain him)

(proof ^^^^^ dialogue of eggman speaking to shadow during the final boss, saying that he lied and that shadow is the real shadow)

OH BOY ........ THE TRUE ENDING!!!!!!!! HOOOLY SHIIIIT

people have so much beef with shadow “leacing the past behind him” and like the “sayonara shadow the hedgehog” in the last cutscene…….. im…………………….

“leaving the past behind” doesn’t mean just forgetting about everything and pretending it never happened, it means ACKNOWLEDGING that it happened, ACCEPTING IT…. learning from it and then…. MOVING FORWARD.

it means that you learned from your past and are now at peace with it, not stressing over it anymore… finally able to focus on the present moment and your feelings in the NOW; maybe even think about the future a little more.

just. yeah. it means he made peace with his past and wont let it define him (in the sense that its all he thinks about and that his haunting memories control him) and he is more confident in himself and perhaps regained some self-worth…

and that “sayonara shadow the hedgehog” is 

 a call to say that his old “self” is now gone, and that it's time for the new “self” to rise

 just look at the room he’s in and the picture he's looking at…… those were maria's last words at him…… let him mourn one last time, let him make peace with her death. he’s been stressing over it long enough.

<< Professor Gerald's granddaughter, Maria Robotnik, is by far the one person that made Shadow the happiest. She was like a sister to him, and they shared the same dream; to visit Earth. >>

Can yall stop shipping them romantically? thanks.

I headcanon that Shadow adopts the Robotnik last name for a VERY GOOD reason.

okay im done w the wiki bye fuckface

I’m not done yet tho.

I want to talk about a thing I see in lots of fanart too... 

Shadow smoking cigarettes and drinking alcohol.

Shadow is a highly sensitive creature and alcohol has an unpleasant sting to it when you drink it and he KNOWS it’s bad for people’s health. He would never indulge wild parties or participate in “jolly drinking” where people drink for the purpose of getting drunk and having “fun”.

He very much appreciates having one drink with rouge at the bar (for the taste, purely) or a beer at a meal with someone else. 

He doesn’t actively seek it, but he also is not totally repulsed by it.

What disgusts him is the abuse of alcohol and he doesn’t like associating with that behavior and stays away from people who do that. 

why? easy. let’s just take a look at cigarettes.

each package has a warning and disgusting picture of the aftermath of smoking on it, and everyone is very well informed about how bad it is for their own health, and more so for the health of the people around them. 

He does not accept people who put whatever benefit they think they receive from this, if they put it before the well being of others and willingly make themselves sick and rot.

Same goes for alcohol. Everyone is very well aware that its toxic to our bodies, but people get drunk and risky anyways. This way of fleeing their troubles is illogical and ungrateful. 

Ungrateful to the gift of life, to the healthy bodies they posses.  It has a lot to do with the unfairness he feels when he thinks about how Maria had a life expectancy of 9 or 10 years for something that wasn’t even her fault. And there are other, perfectly fine humans out there, that willingly destroy their bodies and willingly accept that they are harming the ones around them with their behavior too.

[ DISCLAIMER: This is not meant to call anyone who reads this that drinks or smokes out as a bad person; you can do what you want I’m not trying/going to try convincing you to stop or make you feel guilty. This is the standpoint of someone who has experienced health related loss, so it indeed is extreme. I am not trying to start a debate. ]

another beef i have is the weird idea that shadow is a lusty dominant rapist

[ warning that sexual themes might be discussed, but not explicit ]

shadow is MOST PROBABLY asexual; and even if he was interested in intercourse he would be polite about it, seek consent and so on and so on

just are many people forgetting that despite him being very mature, he had not had much life experience yet. 

not to be reaching but he kinda fits the “born sexy yesterday-trope”; where he is mature, there’s a gray area on his age, and he is clueless about how life works and basically a man-child “that needs teaching”

just that for some weird reason i see a lot of people draw shadow as very flirtatious, and in fanfictions he gets very violent towards romantic partners and ofc the infamous sonadow rape porn (tho ive encountered stuff relating to the born sexy yesterday shit too)

[ im not here to discuss how WRONG the things above are in its own, im just here to talk abt characterization today. ]

i just want generally everything to stop........... its bad........ don’t put that shit up in public and then even untagged........

[ warning end ]

..........

before anyone comes at me like “uuummmm but things you said are bad are actually portrayed in canon like that”

sorry but

hate to say it but i know their character better than sega themselves.

I’m tired and my wrists hurt i need to stop typing now but you did not hear the last of me.

[jonathantaylorthomas]

Taylor Swift, Entering a New Era, Sticks to a Safe Space: Tumblr

For a megastar approaching the release of her latest blockbuster, Taylor Swift, the human, has been eerily quiet.

Yes, she’s put out four songs and two music videos from “Reputation,” her sixth album, out Friday, and her visage currently adorns a racecar and a promotional fleet of UPS trucks. But Ms. Swift hasn’t given an interview in 18 months, and she has performed in public only once this year, at a pre-Super Bowl event for a corporate partner. (She will be the musical guest on “Saturday Night Live” this weekend.)

Judging by the relatively reserved rollout for “Reputation,” it’s easy to assume that Ms. Swift is pulling a Beyoncé — communicating only strategically, if at all, and mostly letting the work speak for itself. That is, unless you know where to look.

“The general public has not seen much of Taylor, really, in the last year and a half,” said Caitlin Buckvold, 28, who along with her twin sister, Megan, runs a fan blog dedicated to the singer on Tumblr. “But we’ve seen a lot of Taylor. We interact with her on a daily basis.”

At perhaps the most fraught moment in her storied career — after a tense sexual assault trial and amid ceaseless celebrity beefs and internet dramas that threaten to overwhelm the music — Ms. Swift, 27, has recommitted to engaging with her most faithful followers, known as Swifties, cocooning herself in the vibrant, supportive community they have built on the social-media platform Tumblr.

The artist is far from just an observer: Since taking personal control of her official Tumblr page in 2014, Ms. Swift has “liked” some 27,000 posts, stoking hype for her new songs, registering support for fan theories and lyric interpretations and signaling that she remains an ever-watchful eye to her devoted listeners.

Even in an age of unprecedented connection between stars and their public on social media, Ms. Swift goes beyond typical interaction on Tumblr, a niche blogging platform that, with its multimedia flexibility, including images, GIFs and text posts, is conducive to obsessive fandoms. She follows some 5,000 blogs, where users can upload original creations or “re-blog” the work of others with or without adding their own two cents.

While Twitter, Facebook and Instagram have become largely promotional megaphones for the singer (outside of a few sly surprises), she has posted more than 100 times on her Tumblr since October, often re-blogging content from Swifties and adding her own commentary (typically including their first name and a string of excited emojis).

Ms. Swift also participates in inside jokes (ask a teenager about “no its becky”), dotes on pet cats and monitors the life events of her devotees, sending flowers and making breakup playlists for those in need. There’s even a term for her omnipresence on the platform: #Taylurking.

“This is how she knows the pulse of her fan base,” said Nate Auerbach, the former head of music strategy and outreach at Tumblr, who helped Ms. Swift join the platform ahead of the release of “1989,” her previous, Grammy-winning album.

Tatiana Simonian, the current head of entertainment partnerships at Tumblr, said: “She’s just not using it like a celebrity uses it,” and called Ms. Swift “a star who behaves like a fan on the platform — she’s a fan of her fans.”

By tending to her base with such bespoke dedication — and with the looming possibility of firsthand contact — Ms. Swift can breed loyalty in listeners while focusing on positive vibes only. She plucked hundreds of fans from social media to hear “Reputation” early, at Secret Sessions held at her homes in Rhode Island, Los Angeles, London and Nashville.

“Tumblr allows her to focus on the people who matter to her,” said Megan Chesney, 17, who blogs as ohtaylorswiift. “She gets to talk directly to her fans and eliminates all of that drama and excess hate on Twitter or Instagram.”

Ms. Chesney said she joined Tumblr because Ms. Swift did, and the singer followed her page about two years ago. Like most Swifties, she remembers exactly when and how many times Ms. Swift has interacted with her blog.

“It’s, like, crazily overwhelming because it’s just hard to believe that some iconic superstar celebrity decided to take time out of her day to make someone else’s day, even with a single emoji,” Ms. Chesney said in an interview during her school lunch.

Though the Taylor Swift Tumblr was originally set up as yet another online marketing vehicle, to be run by staffers, it was Ms. Swift’s decision to take the reins herself that made it a valuable resource. “Taylor here. I’m locking myself in my room and not leaving until I figure out how to use my Tumblr,” she wrote in September 2014, following in the footsteps of artists like Lorde and Frank Ocean, who were Tumblr users before they were famous.

“The impact was immediate and didn’t taper off,” Mr. Auerbach said, noting that few stars with Ms. Swift’s reach have really dived in and sustained such a presence. “She was learning about herself in the eyes of the fans,” he added. “No one did it like her. She was incredible at it.”

The generous, loose and jocular version of Ms. Swift that fans get on Tumblr can be a far cry from a public persona that some see as meticulously calculated and overbearing. On Monday, Ms. Swift was criticized in some corners after the ACLU of Northern California pushed back against a letter from Ms. Swift’s attorney demanding the takedown of a small-time blog post that linked the singer’s music to the alt-right and white supremacy.

While the ACLU called out Ms. Swift’s “intimidation tactics,” the topic spurred civil discussion on Tumblr. Wrote one fan: “I don’t think it’s too much to ask that you (not your attorneys) publicly denounce alt-right neo-nazis who take it upon themselves to use you, your lyrics, and the imagery in your music videos to bolster their disgusting beliefs.”

But many Swifties ultimately defended the singer. “Have people out there seriously not caught on to how taylor has decided this era to NOT interact with the media?” another user wrote. “She doesn’t want to give in and tell them where she stands politically. She’s done with them. And if she were to say something, we all know she’d still get torn apart anyway.”

Like Beyoncé’s BeyHive, Swifties can be rabid in their allegiance, especially in the virtual presence of their hands-on queen. (“Taylor always says that she sees everything and knows everyone and exactly what’s going on with her fans,” Ms. Chesney said.) This week, ahead of the release of “Reputation,” fans on Tumblr urged one another to be vigilant about reporting leaked music to the singer’s label and management team.

“They’re doing a lot of work for her in many ways,” said Linda Ryan Bengtsson, an assistant professor of media and communication studies at Karlstad University in Sweden. Ms. Bengtsson is currently conducting research on fan behavior across social media, with a focus on Swifties, whom she called “really loyal” and generally “very friendly and positive.”

She added, “They really lift each other and share each other,” often with the goal of reaching Ms. Swift’s field of vision.

“Everyone’s just helping each other out to get noticed by Taylor,” said Ani, 15, a high school student in Hong Kong who blogs as rosegardensthorns and asked that her last name be withheld because of college admissions.

“She followed me back in February and I freaked out,” Ani said. Months later, when Ms. Swift finally reposted a photo from her page, “I definitely cried in the metro station,” she said. “And then I showed my friend and she cried, too.”

Such gestures, executed in a public but largely unseen ecosystem, allow Ms. Swift to do good-natured brand maintenance and outreach without oversaturating a more skeptical general audience.

“She was very ubiquitous for a while there,” said the man behind the analyzingtaylor Tumblr, who writes under the name Matt to protect his professional prospects. “I just think that she knew it was time to not be as omnipresent as she was with 10 magazine covers and five different interviews.”

After all, Ms. Swift, at her best, has always been both sweet and savvy. “I think in 2017, you’ve got to appeal to your most die-hard fans, because they’re going to to do the promotion for you,” Matt said. “It’s a smarter way to go about business.”

[princely-dots]

Let Me Tell You About Homestuck

AN ILLUSTRATIVE PHENOMENON

- a midterm essay about Homestuck and how it impacted illustration- 

don’t repost or whatever- this is solely evidence of how I am trash and I would like to keep it that way.

“If I have to name one thing I find infinitely important about Homestuck, It would be the way in which it pushes the definition of “webcomic” unlike any other work ever created.” Known to many and few, Homestuck by Andrew Hussie is one of the world's greatest examples of hypermedia utilized to its maximum extent. An instrumental piece in the popularization of hypercomics, the massive multimedia story was a seven year-long marvel spurred by what many consider to be an illustrative masterpiece. Known for both its doltish ‘cartoon casual’ style and its stunning imagery alike, Homestuck spanned 8126 pages, included over four hours of animation and music, and featured twenty mini games; a feat no other comic or work has ever come even close to matching. Somehow this gargantuan, uselessly complicated, mess of a creation myth built an audience of millions and inspired a culture of internet art that had previously only been in its infancy. Likely this was due to Homestuck’s unique ability to encapsulate the millennial experience, as well as its seemingly endless penchant for seamlessly mixing irreverent and profound content and how this hypercomic tackled the nigh impossible task of illustrating life. With its mass appeal and astounding popularity, the right timing, and its miscellany of illustrative strategies and media- Homestuck changed the definition of “webcomic” and was one of the most influential pieces of illustration of the internet.

In order to truly grasp the reach of this Webcomic of webcomics one must understand its roots. This infamous ‘interactive’ epic started on an MSPaint Adventures forum and among the Gangbunch threads of the Penny Arcade forums. Andrew Hussie, the elusive mastermind behind the MSPA endeavors, started his fifth project, Homestuck, after the conclusion of his previous project Problem Sleuth, which had a small degree of success but was essentially still an incredibly niche comic whose fans were predominantly those active on its specific forums. Using an ‘enter command/ suggestion box’ format, Hussies projects imitated adventure based click through games and command based rpgs. Following the template of other interactive webcomics such as RubyQuest, Hussie experimented with smaller scale works before undertaking the epic that Homestuck would become- 1-Jailbreak, 2- Bard Quest (which ended in 24 days), 3- Blood Spade (which was a single page that would later on be elaborated on in Homestuck itself,) and 4- Problem Sleuth (the only other large-scale work Hussie completed). Jailbreak was a simple exercise in puzzles and taking commands for story direction from readers; Problem Sleuth started in the same way but throughout its course its seemingly nonsensical leanings began to demonstrate a strict logic for its own world.  Amongst the array of ridiculous suggestions from the forum, a plot and complex world evolved. Homestuck started with the suggestions of readers as well, but when it began to gain traction and the number of suggestions increased to number in the thousands per page, Hussie stopped taking direct “orders”. The only difference that this made was a slight decrease in some of the more absurd commands. However,  Homestuck fundamentally was created through a confounding process of scattering random features along and going back later on to tie them in, which gave the comic the appealing open endedness that it was known for. To describe what Homestuck  is known for is to describe Homestuck itself, which is almost an impossible feat. The fascinating thing is that it can’t really be described, which is part of the enigma. To define it would be to limit it, because it is so expansive and so complex that Homestuck is impossible to confine to one statement well. The three closest descriptors are still devastatingly vague when compared to the work they’re attempting to define. The first and second are from the author himself, “A creation myth about kids in houses” which is equally inaccurate  as it is accurate, and “ a story that’s also a puzzle.” The third is from the tumblr user Wakraya, who said “This isn’t a story about Four Kids playing a Game, getting involved in shenanigans and trying to live a happy ever after as villains try to plot on destroying them and reality. Homestuck is the tale of the characters from a webcomic, becoming self-aware, and escaping the grasp of the author and the narrative.”

As interesting as it might seem alone, a huge part of Homestuck’s rise to popularity  was indebted to Tumblr, which at the time of Homestuck’s release was only about two years old. Remarkably enough, the popularity and overall success of both Homestuck  and Tumblr are directly correlated.  In October of 2009, Tumblr only had about 90,000 users, that number skyrocketed in May of 2010 and then more than doubled by October of the same year- notably a sharp increase happening after/during June. On the last day of May in 2010, the first ‘long’ animation panel, [S] Descend, was posted. The ambitious panel was four minutes, thirteen seconds long, and was accompanied by original music.The excitement over the update heralded a rush of interest, but not nearly as much as on June 10th, 2010, when Homestuck started a new section called Hivebent, a part of the story which introduced an additional cast of characters and could be understood without previous canon knowledge. Both of these points in Homestuck correspond eerily close to the sharp changes with user numbers in Tumblr. Being that most of the interaction and dialogue within the fandom happened on Tumblr posts, it can be concluded that, in the least, the relationship of the two was symbiotic. Of course this is only a testament to how massive Homestuck was merely fanbase-wise. One of the most famous panels, [S] Cascade, was posted to the hosting site Newgrounds to avoid the MSPA servers that were unable to handle the mass of people flooding it after each update. However, it was popular enough that the sheer number of simultaneous hits on the animation actually crashed the Newgrounds servers as well. In short, Homestuck had a colossal fanbase that at one point registered in one million unique visitors to its site every day.

Indubitably, this maximalist hypercomic had a reach long enough that it could influence a massive audience and leave a lasting impact. Most notably, this impact was to revolutionize what webcomics were understood to be. Homestuck pushed the boundaries of common illustration by completely exploiting the media in which Hussie made it, “The result is an unusual media hybrid. Something that reads like a heavily illustrated novel [...] It’s a story I’ve tried to make as much a pure expression of its medium as possible.” It became the definition of hypercomic through its extreme use of multimedia and hyperfiction, a work written and presented electronically encouraging nonlinearity due to the disconnect between panels/pages via hyperlink. In other words, since the reader has to click on the next hyperlink to proceed in the story, it becomes interactive. But it wasn’t only through its hyperlinks that Homestuck changed the delivery of its illustration, it was in its presentation. Most famously, the comic was made predominantly with only one panel per page. These illustrations would often be emphasized as gifs, occasionally with music, and sometimes the pages would be full fledged animations. However, Hussie did not stick to only a strict construction of one panel size per page; he utilized the medium to its utmost extent, sometimes going so far as to even manipulate the webpage itself in different parts of the story, often breaking the fourth wall. Panel walls were also frequently broken to enhance the story- some pages would be scrollable instead of confined to a small rectangle,some would have guided movements, and sometimes during updates the button to click to the next page would be seen as glitching out until the next pages were available to read. Sometimes the reader would even have the opportunity to choose between several different hyperlinks to different storylines. Hussie’s innovative use of the medium didn’t stop at just page composition, he also was one of the first to use spoilers (chat logs) to show the text, versus using speech bubbles as traditional comics and most previous webcomics would have. This allowed for a staggering amount of text to be included in a single page, as the majority of the story in Homestuck was conveyed through IM dialogue.

What more, the innovation and genius didn’t stop at just the mechanics. The depth and freedom of the story itself as well as the interaction between the comic, author, and fandom pushed creative boundaries. Categorically, the most significant aspect of Homestuck was the sheer expansiveness of the story and the hundreds of characters within it. The world building was so intensive it easily rivals the big names of fiction such as Game of Thrones and Lord of the Rings. Hussie created grounded cultures, believable backstories, and the legacies of multiple timelines with stupefyingly thought out motifs, archetypes, and symbolism woven throughout. Most importantly, Homestuck presented a very real and relatable use of the internet, contrasting most modern media which often presents an outdated understanding of how young people are using technology. The majority of the relationships between the characters in Homestuck are substantiated purely over startlingly realistic IM conversations over the internet rather than in person- something that hasn’t really been successfully portrayed yet. “For kids who grew up on IM and chatrooms the rambling cadence of Homestuck dialogue is immediately familiar.” The characters are also beautifully realistic and diverse; they are by no means perfect, they all have successes and failures, and overall they are dimensional and built as though they are real people. Dave, a main protagonist, said, “rose we dont have fuckin “arcs” we are just human beings” which plays out extensively. Hussie uses alternate timelines, time loops, and other various time shenannigans to explore character reactions for hundreds of pages, only to wind up making the entire “arc” invalid by switching to a different timeline and saying the other one died. Interestingly enough however, these time capers weren’t just arbitrary, Hussie used multiple timelines and time travel between these to justify how most of the important plot events happened. They were legitimately vital to the ultimate timeline of the story, for without them and their endless intricacies the story would be so riddled with holes it would make swiss cheese look solid.

The remarkable tangle of plot devices and characterization wasn’t the only thing to make Homestuck such a memorable piece though. It was also the experimental, testing, push and pull between Hussie’s writing and the fandom reactions. Oftentimes Hussie’s future decisions for the comic were affected by the fandom’s opinions, whether he was inspired by their headcanons or was trying to get a rise from them, it resulted in a constantly engaging exchange that kept the fandom active when the comic was. The fandom’s in depth examination of the comic and speculation in between updates created a web of comprehension that made understanding the complexities of Homestuck possible; it also made a culture that far surpassed what could be expected of just a normal work of illustration- it became a movement.

The openness of the world and the sheer amount of material there was to work with, paired with the analytical vigor of the fandom to understand every aspect of its universe created endless sources of inspiration for old and new artists alike. Not to mention, every fan-made character and headcanon was confirmed canon by Hussie, which added a massive amount of encouragement to anyone with an idea.

Hussie took advantage of the enthusiasm of the fanartists, even inviting many onto the project to feature guest art, compose music for, and even illustrate some of the animations and video games in Homestuck. This type of collaboration was another enchanting characteristic of the comic that not only made Homestuck all the more special for its fans, but also made it a huge source of inspiration that spoke great lengths to the achievements possible through the internet, and the opportunities out there for illustrators and other artists when they are persistent. After all, Homestuck started off practically unknown.

It was this unknown webcomic that would eventually grow to leave an undeniable legacy in illustration. After gathering a community around it, it is no surprise that thousands of artists were influenced by its anthology of styles and ideas. For one, it completely remodeled what was considered a “webcomic” and popularized the use of massive multi-media and hyperfiction. Hundreds of webcomics followed in its tracks, all of them showing signs of Homestuck’s influence. Some of the most memorable of these being Ava’s Demon, Thunderpaw, Spacepaw, Neokosmos, Living When Dead, The Black Road to Oz,  and  Prequel. Many featured the hyperlink format, single panel design, simplified art styles-ranging to highly rendered art (like Homestuck did), insert command styles, animation and gifs included to forward the stories and add to the effectiveness of panels or communicate without words, spoilers to include more text, modifying scroll capabilities in the illustration, the web pages, and more. The fanartists could also find considerable renown online due to the immense popularity of the comic, several artists got noticed and hired by Hussie, and/or by other companies because of their art getting shared around by the hoards of ‘homestucks’- the colloquialism for the fans of the hypercomic. Artists such as Ikimaru, Lemonteaflower, Viivus, Shelby Cragg, Hillary Esdaile, and Emptyfeet, gained loyal followings and were able to pursue illustration thanks to the support that spawned along with their roots in the fandom that blossomed from Homestuck. By far the most well-known of the artists that came from underneath Homestuck’s influence/ employ is Toby Fox, the creator of Undertale, an actual click through adventure like the ones Homestuck was modeled on. Even if they didn’t make it to the big lights themselves with success, countless illustrators/artists were influenced by some aspect or another of homestuck or its fandom , and that legacy can still be traced through tumblr.

To a really astounding degree, so much art came from the fandom and permeated through the internet illustration culture. Pure multimedia is being used on such a grander scale now that illustrators have been exposed to works like Homestuck, and it’s truly multi-layered illustrations and stories with more than just drawing.  Pixel art and talksprites also experienced a surge in popularity. Homestuck even resulted in two forms of illustration that were rarely seen, if not seen at all online, previously: pieces dubbed “lyric-stucks.” These were collections of illustrations that corresponded with lyrics, oftentimes using large amounts of the content/symbolism from Homestuck to drive meaning. These types of series were designed solely for the tumblr scrolling format, where the images would connect on the tops and bottoms to each other so that they could be experienced naturally on the web. These evolved into solely long art posts without the lyrics, and although both of these forms of illustration might have existed outside of the Homestuck umbrella, their frequency beneath it is irrefutable to anyone who inhabited tumblr during the years the comic was most active.  A final artistic tool that surfaced with the Homestuck inspiration storm was the character template that it supplied for future illustrators struggling to develop fully realized characters. This template followed a very basic schematic, a symbol for the character, a typing quirk which demonstrated their personality, a color to be directly associated with the character, a classpect (a more accessible personality qualifier than the Myer Briggs format), and a series of quadrants for categorizing interpersonal relationships. Interestingly, the quadrants have managed to soak into social media and fandoms that aren’t even close to Homestuck- the idea was so easily applicable.

It was this type of universality that made Homestuck such a global success. Fans could be found everywhere from Korea to the Netherlands to Brazil and on. Its reach and the participation of all these cultures consolidating into a single community for a single work of art is what embodied the spirit of Homestuck.  This hypercomic, in the plainest sense, was an illustrated culmination of the internet experience. It was a seven year event that can never be experienced again, as waiting for updates and the happenings in between was a necessary part of this near performative art piece. Those that participated were touched by it. The beauty of it was endlessly interpretable, and while the readers were waiting for the next pages to be released, they were discussing it. The fandom was not confined to just illustration, they explored the possibilities through every form of art. It encouraged conspiracy and intense transcendental examination to see it as more than just a webcomic. It was an actual adventure; it was a happening. This was part of the illustrative genius of Homestuck:  Hussie wrote the comic reflectively for the fandom’s reactions. To a degree, it was a social experiment. It was an illustrative motion, manipulated to see how far the medium of hyperfiction could be used, the humor could be pushed, the drama could be taken, and how absurd and complex it could get before it started really losing its momentum. Miraculously, the only periods in which it lost its vigor were during the hiatuses that Hussie took. Unfortunately, his hiatus between 2013 and 2016 took a huge toll on the population of the Homestuck fandom when updates were so drastically sporadic that even the movement known as “Hiatus-stuck”, which provided the fandom with increasingly nonsensical memes and art, couldn’t keep it afloat. But just because the fans migrated to other fandoms  doesn’t mean that they didn’t take Homestuck and its influences with them. The meaning of “webcomic” was still changed in their eyes, and the ideas that they generated in the light of Homestuck’s groundbreaking demonstration of the extent of illustration in the hyper world can still be credited to Andrew Hussie’s masterpiece: a subcultural phenomenon of the internet. (( if you want to read the doc itself, with the photos and the citations: read it here. ))

[missnotsocool96tm]

[Edit: Since my opinion is apparently too controversial for some, I will repost my thoughts here. That being said precede with CAUTION. All photos/gifs used in double spaces will be a the top) {WARNING: This will be a long post that will get explicit at times. You have been warned.} Let me take a moment to address something that had come into my attention yesterday amongst the good news of BTS performing at the AMAs. This is not something I want ARMYs to focus on or to make a big deal of, but it is something that needs to be brought into light, made aware of, and given a deep reflection on. On Twitter there was backlash from some ARMYs against a verified account from a female rapper known as Cupakke for a sexualized comment she made towards Jeon Jungkook of BTS. Cupcakke has since stated due to the backlash on her Twitter and Instagram she will be taking a break. It's unclear if she'll be off social media for a while or if she plans to deactivate her accounts. As of right now her accounts are all still up but she has renamed her Twitter name from "Marilyn MonHoe" to "gone for good". Now before I voice my thoughts on this matter, let it make it clear that I have checked both sides. In fact, I knew about Cupcakke and listened to her before I listened to BTS. While I can't say I'm a big fan of her music, I do respect what she does with her music and her as an artist. That being said, here is what you need to know about Cupcakke. Elizabeth Eden Harris, mostly known professionally as Cupcakke, is an American rapper from Chicago, Illinois. She begun her career by releasing material through the Internet back in 2012. Her brand of music is associated with a mix of hip hop and dirty rap. Cupcakke is very blunt in her music and is confident in her sexuality, which is evident in her song, Deepthroat, which was the first song I ever heard from her. Despite her overly sexual persona, she does bring up important messages in her songs. Whether it be about relationship heartbreaks in Tit For Tat, protesting about racist cops in Picking Cotton, or addressing sexual assault and anti-predatory behavior in Pedophile, Cupcakke is a lot more than her persona leads you to think. She's very caring of her fans, going as far as to send money through PayPal towards a fan who got kicked out of an abusive household and offered another fan a place to stay after they admitted they were homeless because their mother kicked them out for being gay. Looking at her Twitter account as much as I could in the last 2 days, it seems clear that she may have been an ARMY and most likely a Jungkook Stan. She has retweeted the AMAsxBTS announcement tweet and admitted her excitement over it. She has retweeted something another ARMY has said in that a "Cupcakke x BTS collaboration would be legendary". This would imply that Cupcakke agrees with this statement and is up for that to happen. She has also tweeted that she has heard Jungkook's cover of Nothing Like Us and admitted she cried hearing it. She says he has a great voice. Now the issue here that got to a lot of ARMYs, specifically Jungkook stans, was when Cupcakke tweeted that she wanted to suck off Jungkook and had tagged their Twitter account. I don't know how true this is because I can't find the actual tweet aside from screenshots others has posted about it. Cupcakke has made sexual implications in her tweets regarding Jungkook in passing before. I've read all the ones I could find and none of them struck me as going "too far". They were suppose to be taken as jokes and nothing too serious. Some ARMYs have claimed that Cupcakke has also DMed them something inappropriate, which is unlikely as they would have to have also be following Cupcakke in order for her to DM them in the first place. Though even if she did manage to DM without them following her back, it's pretty clear that BTS doesn't read comments, especially explicit ones. I hear that apparently Jungkook has stated in the past that he feels uncomfortable with explicit sexual comments made towards him, which is why he no longer reads SNS comments, YouTube comments, ect. I don't know how true this statement is either, but I wouldn't be surprised if he did get uncomfortable from it. Many have come to the defense of saying that Jungkook is an adult and isn't a child. While this is true, that doesn't stop the fact that he most likely finds these comments uncomfortable. Imagine someone you don't know making sexual comments about you or wanting to do things to your body or wanting you to do things to them. After a while, it would start to get uncomfortable. However... If she was truly bothersome or stepped out of line in anyway, she could simply be blocked or muted. Then there's the issue over her tagging them. Personally, I don't think that's okay. Unless you are close with that person or have had a decent amount of interaction with each other in the past online or offline, I don't believe it's necessary to tag someone a tweet with sexual implications. I have tagged people that I have followed before. Artists that I admire, actors that I liked, and/or YouTubers that I watched religiously. While I have said some weird things in the past, I made sure to never say anything sexual or something I believed they would find offense when I tagged them. I doubted they would even see my tweets and it was rare when the person I tagged would respond back. Still, I looked up to these people and had too much respect to want to give them an off first impression of me. Perhaps that's just how I am. Obviously Cupcakke and I are two different species when it comes to how we want social media to view us. I'm a bit cautious on Twitter in terms of what I want to say, what I want to like, and who I want to follow, while Cupcakke doesn't seem to care about any of it. She speaks her mind and is unbothered for the most part even if you disagree with what she had to say. While that's the case, she still cares a lot at the end of the day considering how she responded to the backlash and inevitably admitted that ARMYs don't have to worry about her anymore and thus changed her Twitter name to "gone for good". A handful of Jungkook stans apparently sent a bunch of death threats and DMed or private messaged a lot of harmful sayings to Cupcakke on her Instagram and Twitter. This lead to her changing her Twitter name and claiming that "this fandom (ARMYS) is disturbing". Now I doubt her demographic would have converted into ARMYs but there are ARMYs that like Cupcakke and the fact that the fandom got generalized like that based on the actions of a few is disappointing, especially when not even a week has passed since the announcement of the Love Myself campaign BTS had made with UNICEF towards the #ENDViolence charity project. The whole point about this campaign was to spread love, positivity, and help others. Taehyung stated at the conference on the day of revealing the project that he had witnessed a lot of close friends and fellow students get bullied and abused at school and how over the years conditions have worsened. This project was suppose to help with bullying and cyber bullying as well. What Jungkook stans did to Cupcakke was cyberbullying at its finest. I get why they were upset and I understand that if the roles where reversed, if Jungkook was the one sending sexually implied tweets towards Cupcakke or towards someone like Camilla Cambello, like Ariana Grande, or like Selena Gomez, there would be an outrage and full on #JungkookIsOverParty trending everywhere. In this instance both parties are at fault here. Cupcakke shouldn't have tagged BTS. She can continue to say whatever she wants about them, but she doesn't have to tag them. At the same time, ARMYs and Jungkook stans should not have sent death threats. It goes completely against what BTS would want and it makes the whole fandom look bad to outsiders, which isn't good considering BTS is about to make their biggest debut in US history three Sunday's from now and things like this can jeopardize everything in terms of fandom growth. There's something I also need to point out admin all of this. The hypocrisy of it all. As I mentioned before, I read the explicit tweets she made about Jungkook and the tweets she tagged BTS in. I didn't find them to be any different then what I've read from other ARMYs sexualizing our own boys. Now I ask, why was it a problem for Cupcakke to sexualize Jungkook in a similar way other Jungkook stans have done? Keep in mind Cupcakke is a Jungkook stan as well. I'm well aware that not all Jungkook stans or ARMYs are like this. While all the members are attractive, there are some ARMYs who simply don't get sexually attracted to them or get caught up in romantic infatuated feelings. So instead of saying Jungkook stans from now on I'll refer to them as Jungkook extreme stans. As we're on this subject, I will admit I am at fault for having done this as well. Seeing Blood, Sweat, and Tears for the first time, while fully aware this music video would most likely be sexual, it was very easy for me to sexualize some of the members. As time passed, I eventually saw there was more to them than just being a pretty face. They had talent, they were charismatic, and they were a bunch of goofballs. It was that side that attracted me more into joining this fandom than their "sexy/rude" side. This didn't stop me from reading Wattpad smut though. I've read a lot of BTS Wattpad smuts/reactions/imagines. A lot of them were really good and a lot of them were really bad. Then I discovered AMBW as a thing that existed. It stands for Asian Men and Black Women. I was obsessed with reading these stories and smuts for three days straight, mostly because it was easier for me to relate to and a lot of the stereotype-ish content involved to exaggerate the blackness of the character were somewhat funny to me. That being said it was pretty clear that these type of stories were very fetishizing and could border being offense, not all of them but still a lot for someone to make a Wattpad story in response to the issues within Kpop AMBW smut stories and stories in general like this: https://www.wattpad.com/392970689-ambw-probs-%E2%9C%A8-welcome-%E2%9C%A8 I've seen each member portrayed as many questionable things and Jungkook has almost always been the role of the international playboy or a jerk. Once again I question how Cupcakke's comments were any different than what I've seen extreme Jungkook stans and other extreme ARMYs have said in sexualizing their bias or other members. Here are a few recent tweets I found discussing it. (Which you can view from the top) One more thing I'd like to add. Both Cupcakke and Jungkook are 20 years old being born in 1997 respectfully. * * * So... Let me get this straight. They're both the same of legal age, they're both adults who are in an industry where they tend to sexualize themselves, and Cupcakke appears to stan Jungkook as she hasn't mention any other member aside from him. For a while I couldn't really pinpoint what was the exact issue here. Yes the whole tagging situation wasn't cool but did it warrant her to receive death threats? No, that couldn't be it. Then it unfortunately dawned on me. Did it have to do with race? I don't want to be "that" person, but I couldn't think of any other explanation. Many Jungkook stans have said similar things that Cupcakke has said, even times 10. Yet, when Cupcakke did it, they all suddenly grew a moral standing and expressed "their disgust" over her behavior. It's not the first time I've noticed this happening. I found an AHL version of Boy in Luv that I never knew existed before. The video wasn't as choreographed as the Korean music video, which is why I prefer it better, however the AHL version wasn't too bad either. The comments on the other hand kept saying the girls were "too old for the boys" and that the video was "too cringey" to watch. Okay on one hand, let's be real, Jungkook would totally go for noonas but that's just my opinion. On another hand, while the whole AHL experience was a bit cringey and those comments could have been reflecting on the behind the scenes of that music video, which is indeed hilarious and cringey to watch due to a swarm of second hand embarrassment cruising by left and right, I couldn't help but feel it was also partially because of the girls used in the video. BTS can have nothing but Korean girls in their music videos and nobody bats an eye, but as soon as someone of color is placed in the spotlight, or in this case, a position in which BTS are suppose to be infatuated with them, it's suddenly cringey to watch. I heard that even during the RM and Wale collaboration, some ARMYs were already dismissing the idea and even went as far as to refer to Wale as the "N" word, saying things like "keep this (explicit word) away from rapmon". Now, I wasn't here when this collab occurred so I can't say for sure how many ARMYs did this or if it was simply just the same type of ARMYs who also told Jimin he needed to lose more weight and that they only cared about his abs. I wouldn't be surprised either way. Back at the BBMAS, before I fully acknowledged that BTS was even a thing, I read somewhere on Instagram from an ARMY who screenshot another ARMY saying things on Twitter like "we should protect our boys from these women. They're too innocent to be exposed to this". I don't know if this was commented towards Halsey or a different female artist/celebrity, but it was definitely a response to how this female was dressed in front of BTS. The ARMY who screenshot the tweet stated that they didn't believe in what the other ARMY had to say and called bull on BTS needing protection and being innocent. I agreed then as a non-ARMY and I agree now as an ARMY. ~~~~~~~ BTS are seven grown men in their early to mid twenties. They are capable of holding conversations with women and will flirt if necessary and given the opportunity. We as a fandom need to stop the mentality of needing to "protect them" from "certain people" and "certain women". We need to quit babying them as they're not little kids. Cupcakke comments would have been a lot worse if she made them while Jungkook was underaged, but he's not. Even so, he was already being sexualized while he was still underaged by other ARMYs. There is a clear double standard here that needs to be addressed and thought about. As black person, I understand that people who look like me will always be put down, dismissed, and mocked. I understand that I'm not desirable to certain men and that most cultures still stigmatize people like me whether intentionally or not. Just because I understand it doesn't make it okay, nor does it make me accept it. I know for a fact that one blog post or 500 blog posts won't change something that's already deeply engrained in a conservative country like Korea. However, I do hope to shed light on an issue I've noticed that's been crawling about underneath us but we've blissfully ignored it, whether by choice or pure ignorance.