#[through gritted teeth]: i am cringe but i am free i am cringe but i am free i am cringe b-

[lord-owlsnake]

pssssst @altschmerzes

[generalhamsterdancer]

Lupin design! The silly guy!

My first attempts. IDK why I went for the cravat for these, other than it looks fancy... but he's not that fancy, yk? The slit in the cape is supposed to emulate a tailcoat. I like that.

Went more toward a thief outfit with this one. I think I like the pink one on the far right the best.

Just drew this today! I went full "mage" outfit w/ the hat and robe and idk! It works I guess. Still not sold on it bc it looks so generic. Green magic bc part 1!

The meteorite he popped out of was purple so he got magic (scars?) that are purple too!

[nintendont2502]

Three things !!

1. What's up with the moviecule you keep tagging?

2. What's your current hyperfixation?(That isn't homestuck)

3. What's something you like you think is super underated?

2. splatoon,,,, obsessed with the funny squid game. yes i play it daily. yes i still suck ass at it. we exist

3. 90% of my music taste tbh. *especially* australian artists jesus christ. the smith street band, ball park music, early hilltop hoods and DMAs are all criminally slept on imo

moviecule,,,, yall ever just be casually playing touys with someone (rping) and then create some random background characters to fill a role for one (1) scene. and then keep thinking about those characters. and then accidentally end up fleshing them out and giving them full personalities. and then oh shit oh fuck you tripped and now youre an oc/canon shipper and theyre living in your mind rentfree. yeagh.

moviecule! also known as movie bugs also known as those freaks that i hate also known as oh my god just fucking kiss already. founded purely on the basis that alpha dave has two hands and its fun to give him partners that are just as stupid as he is (mfers work together for 15+ years literally coparent a child together in some universes and yet they still refuse to acknowledge the blatant feelings they all have for each other. idiots)

d/david/alpha dave. hes just. hes the guy from the comic. famous director guy who makes dumbass movies and wears douchebag shades all day what more could you ask for. pesterchum technicalGraphicist (bc yeah. the things he makes sure are technically graphics) strifekind swordkind bard of blood and dumb of ass. derse.

adam dawson/ad. assistant director who ends up doing d's job half the time. overthinks constantly which is great when he's directing and not so great literally any other time. pesterchum adherentDirector (uncreative mfer) strifekind shieldkind? iirc? idk if we ever figured that one out. and classpect mage (?) of mind. some form of mind player. only prospit dreamer. rip piss boy

alma foster. head of makeup and practical effects, basically just another assistant director at this point with how much she "helps out". can kill you. will kill you. sole braincell holder half the time and the other half shes the stupidest (/aff) one there. short. pesterchum audaciousAdversary strifekind brushkind rogue of light and yet another derse dumbass.

look at these idiots

(art by the guy i share custody of them with/the guy i torment with visions of them daily @error707-thatdude 🫶)

[starstruckodysseys]

3.1k of oc x canon writing… i need to be tased

[shiningsagittarius]

.

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

yume intros posted im gonna go die in a ditch now

[fellhellion]

give it up for uhhhhh 100 words of wayhaven fic when i havent written for two years

[drtrig]

*through gritted teeths* i am cringe but i am free........

[sister-lucifer]

I just want Brian to pull down my panties, cum in them, lift them back up, and send me on my way. I am down tremendously-

content/warnings: noncon, physical restraint, reader is AFAB and wears panties but no gender is specified, “cunt” and “pussy” used to describe reader’s genitalia, thigh fucking, pervert Brian, no actual penetrative sex, reader gets jumped in the woods, little to no build up/plot it’s just straight into the porn

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out. Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Without warning you’re suddenly shoved to the ground, a heavy weight coming down on your back to keep you there. You yelp in surprise as you feel a body land on top of yours, pushing you into the dirt and sending a sharp pain through your ribs as they bend beneath the force of two people. 

Your attempt to yell out is swiftly cut short when a gloved hand tangles itself in your hair, gripping it tightly as it muffles your cries with the soft dirt on the forest floor. You can feel the small rocks hidden in the soil leaving scrapes on your cheeks as you thrash.

The stranger’s second hand comes down on your back, grabbing at your waist to pull your ass into the air as he hastily, almost clumsily pulls up the bottom of your shirt. He fumbles with the waistband of your shorts, fingers slipping over your button as the fabric of his glove fights with him. He lets up on your hair for one second just so he can use both hands, violently yanking at the fasten of your jeans until it surrenders to his efforts with a harsh ripping sound. He pulls your zipper down so fast it nearly breaks, and even quicker still he’s jerking your shorts down your hips and then your thighs. You’re only allowed to lift your head long enough to cough and spit, wincing at the feeling of dirt in your teeth. You manage to turn and look back at your attacker for only a split second before your face is back against the ground. You whimper against the earth as the sight of the hooded man flashes before your eyes. 

You swear that you can hear him chuckle under his breath at the squeal that crawls up your throat as you feel him pulling eagerly at your panties. You thrash against him as much as you can, but despite your best efforts the pressure on your head and back keeps you disoriented. It’s clear what he wants, though; he lets up just a bit when you sit still. You’re tiring yourself out fast, and you both know it.

You shiver when your panties are pulled down to your knees, resting against the ground and exposing your delicate cunt to the eyes of this aggressive pervert. He smiles under his mask, an expression of absolute debauchery hidden behind black fabric and a sewn on red frown that’ll be burned into your memory forever. 

The strangled noise you let out when you feel him rut against your waiting pussy through his jeans is mortifying. The denim and its metal button are harsh against your sensitive flesh as the stranger practically humps you like a wild dog, hard on twitching in his pants. You can hear him huffing through his mask, breathing heavily through the gaps in his gritted teeth. He’s desperate, nearly rabid with need for a reason that’s beyond you. 

You freeze when you hear him fumble with his zipper, gloved knuckles brushing your back as he struggles with only thing keeping him restrained. A heavy gasp makes your body shake when you suddenly feel the already leaking tip of his cock brush against your thigh. 

“W-Wait, don’t—!” You stammer, thrashing even harder in his grip with the last of your energy. He shushes you harshly, fingers tightening harshly in your hair as a warning. 

“Don’t be so loud,” He whispers, “You’re fine. I ain’t gonna hurt ya unless you make me…” 

You squeak in surprise when his cock slides between your trembling thighs. You instinctively squeeze your legs together, only to cringe when he moans in response. He lets out a shuddering sigh of pleasure as he repositions himself over you, finally releasing your hair only to pin your hands down, wrapping your body in his to keep you still as he starts to thrust. The noises that are pulled from your throat every time he pushes forward are viscerally humiliating, especially the way your voice cracks when his shaft just barely brushes your clit, not once threatening to break through your entrance but taking horrid delight in using it for his own pleasure. He’s shameless in the noise he makes, huffing and groaning in your ear and cursing under his breath every time he moves. 

He barely keeps a steady pace, his desperation becoming apparent with each thrust. You can feel his cock twitch against your thighs as it slides between them, able to feel every vein that runs up the side, all of them pumping hard and fast with adrenaline and primal need. You shudder to think what it would’ve felt like had he decided to use your hole instead.

“H-Haah…you’re…g-getting wet,” He growls in your ear, as though it’s an insult. It may as well be. You whine and turn away from him, biting your lip and ignoring the fact that you can feel yourself soaking his cock and it slides against your cunt. 

You can feel him starting to tremble, and you know in an instant he won’t last much longer. You suck in a breath, silently hoping whatever he chooses to do won’t leave a mess on your back or thighs. You won’t be able to deal with it until you’ve made the trek all the way back down the trail. 

“Gonna…g-gonna cum—“ He whispers through gritted teeth. His hands squeeze around yours, grip getting tighter and tighter, almost to a painful degree as he chases his release with reckless abandon. He’s staring to lose whatever little bit of restraint he has left, and fast. 

All at once his resolve collapses, guttural noises of pleasure falling from his lips as his hips slam erratically against you. He barely manages to choke out one last word of warning before suddenly he stops, cock head barely nestled between your thighs as his entire body tenses and shakes with the force of an orgasm that nearly makes him cry out. He barely manages to strangle the sound before it leaves his throat, cock twitching as it releases hard and fast. You cringe in anticipation of feeling the sticky warmth trail down your thighs, but the sensation never comes. After a few moments you sigh, relieved to have been granted this one small mercy. 

You’re too dazed and dizzy to move when he finally gets up off of you. You stay on the ground despite your humiliating position, and despite the wicked chuckle your attacker allows to slip. 

His boots crunch on the ground, and for a moment you think he’s just going to walk away, leave you here to take care of yourself. Then you feel your panties being slid back up your thighs. You can only be confused for a moment before you’re struck with the uncomfortable feeling of your warm, soaking panties squeezing around the mound of your cunt. The substance is thick and unbearably sticky, not to mention far too much for it to have come from you, especially without an orgasm. 

You flinch and squeal as he fastens your shorts back in place around your waist, tightly keeping your panties in place and making sure you can’t escape the feeling of his cum soaking your pussy and threatening to stain your jeans. 

He stands back up, buttoning his jeans and adjusting his pants a bit before shoving his hands back in the pocket of his faded yellow hoodie. He’s silent for a moment, admiring his work with a hidden smirk spread across his face. 

“Better get walkin’, sweetheart,” He teases, toe of his boot nudging your pussy through your shorts, “It’s a loooong way home.”

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Auntie Row

Rowena & Winchester little sister!reader, team free will & Winchester!reader

Requested by anonymous

Synopsis: Rowena has a soft spot for the Winchester’s little sister, and they get into lots of trouble together (I suck at synopsis, just read the fic it’s better)

Warnings: honestly nothing, time frame makes no sense with reader’s age but 🤷‍♀️

“Rowena, what do you think you’re doing?”

The witch looked up in surprise when the Winchester brothers entered.

“Sammy!” You, the brothers’ six-year-old sister, ran straight to your big brother and giggled when he lifted you into his arms.

“Oh, you’re back,” Rowena said, cringing. “That was quick.”

“Auntie Row is teaching me how to do magic, like Hermione!” You babbled excitedly.

“Rowena…” Dean growled in warning.

“Now now, she’s a growing girl!” Rowena defended herself. “Learning magic is a perfectly natural part of growing up.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Sam scoffed.

“But Sammy!” You whined.

“Nu-uh,” Sam shook his head. “C’mon, it’s about time you had a nap.” He carried you out without another word to Rowena, who huffed dramatically and started to gather her belongings.

“When we said you could watch Y/N—“ Dean began, but Rowena cut him off.

“I know you didn’t mean this, but honestly Dean Winchester, how d’you expect the girl to defend herself if she can’t use magic?”

“She doesn’t have to,” Dean insisted. “We’ll protect her.”

“Oh honestly, you can’t be around her all the time! If she had magic, she could—“

“For the last time Rowena; no.” Dean’s tone left no room for argument.

“Uh, guys.” Sam returned to the room with a slight frown on his face. “Y/N said she wants Rowena to continue her story from last night. She’s refusing to sleep without it.”

“Well,” Rowena smirked. “Duty calls.”

“Hey.” Dean caught Rowena by the arm, and she glared at him. “Magic always comes with a price. I don’t want her to have to pay it.”

Rowena softened.

“I understand, Dean Winchester.”

His grip slackened, and Rowena left to go to you.

…

“I have a little something for you,” Rowena said as she stepped into your room.

“Can we finish the story?” You asked.

“Of course, sweet girl, of course. But first, I want to show you something. You remember that cursed necklace from the story? The one that protected the witch from the angry mob?”

“Uh-huh.” You nodded excitedly.

“Well, I think it’s time it protected someone else.” Rowena grinned, unclasping the necklace that was hidden behind her shirt and carefully putting it on you.

“Really?” Your eyes went wide as you stared up at the witch.

“Yes. That will protect you from anyone who wants to harm you. That way you don’t have to use any magic, just like your brothers said.”

“Thank you, Auntie Row,” you breathed sincerely, reverence painting your tone as you admired the glowing red jewel.

Rowena leaned forward and kissed your forehead.

“You’re very welcome, sweet thing. Now, let’s finish that story, shall we?”

…

“Kiddo, please, it’s just for a few days,” Sam tried to soothe you, but you still wouldn’t let go of his leg and continued to cry. “Mary’s gonna take good care of you, I promise.”

“I could really help you guys on this one,” Mary argued.

“She needs someone to watch her,” Dean reasoned.

“And why am I the automatic choice?” Mary countered.

“You two are not helping,” Sam said through gritted teeth as he picked you up, letting you lay your head on his shoulder. He hated Mary’s distance from you; you were John’s, but not hers. He understood her reason for not getting close to you, but you were just a little kid, and you didn’t deserve that. Sam just rubbed your back, still trying to soothe you as you continued to sniffle.

“If you boys needed help, you could’ve just asked.”

The three adults turned in surprise at the sound of Rowena’s voice.

“I mean honestly, it’s not like I haven’t babysat before.”

Dean was hesitant. “I don’t know if—“

“Sounds like a plan,” Mary said, going to grab her duffel. She tossed over her shoulder, “now I can help on the hunt!”

“Am I gonna stay with Auntie Row?” You asked Sam, your eyes wide and pleading.

“I…yeah honey, you are,” Sam sighed.

“Yay!” You grinned, wiping your tears away and squirming in Sam’s grip.

“Ok, ok,” Sam chuckled, lowering you to the ground so you could run to Rowena for a hug. “It’s probably best that you guys don’t stay in the bunker.” Sam directed his next words at the witch holding his little sister. “The bunker’s system still goes a little wonky with a witch inside, so one of your safe houses is probably a better idea.”

“That works for me.” Rowena grinned. “How would you like to go to Paris, sweet thing?” She asked you.

“This is a horrible idea,” Dean sighed. But he still grabbed his bag and headed out to Baby anyway.

…

“We’re back!” Sam called as he stepped into the bunker.

“Sammy! De!” You squealed, running to your big brothers and reaching them just as they came down the stairs. Dean scooped you into his arms and held you tight, comforted to see such a happy sight after such a grueling hunt.

“Hey, what’s this?” Sam asked, noticing your outfit.

“Auntie Row took me to shops in Paris, and we got a lot of clothes!” You babbled excitedly as Dean let Sam pull you into his arms.

“You’re spoiling her, Rowena,” Dean chuckled, no longer quite so hesitant about the witch now that he saw how happy you were.

“And she deserves every bit of it,” Rowena said.

…

“Ow!”

“I’m sorry darling, but you must sit still!”

“What’s going on in here?” Sam asked curiously as he stepped into your room to see you and Rowena sitting in front of your vanity.

“I’m trying to do her hair, but she won’t stop squirming,” Rowena explained, running a little pink brush through your hair.

“It’s all knotty!” You whined.

“Well it won’t be in a minute,” Rowena said.

Sam just smiled as he watched you, finally getting experiences that you’d never had before; motherly experiences.

The more he watched, though, the more he noticed how much you were squirming, and how much you seemed to be whining.

“Hey, you seem kinda grumpy, kid. Did you get a nap today?” He asked, coming to stand beside you and Rowena.

“Yeah,” you sniffled.

“You’re kinda pale,” he muttered under his breath, getting on one knee and reaching the back of his hand out to touch your forehead. “Jeez kid, you’re burning up.”

“She’s ill?” Rowena put the brush down and turned your chair around so you were facing her, repeating Sam’s gesture and checking your temperature. “She is quite hot.”

“Hey, let’s get you into some pjs, ok?” Sam suggested, lifting you into his arms. “You should get some sleep.”

“I already had a nap!” You insisted, squirming in Sam’s arms.

“Hey Sammy, I think I found us a case,” Dean said, stepping into your room. “Something wrong?”

“She’s got a fever,” Sam sighed. “You should go without me.”

“Oh nonsense,” Rowena spoke up. “Just leave her with me.”

“I don’t want to leave her when she’s sick,” Sam argued.

“Oh she’ll be fine,” Rowena insisted. “I’ll give her some herbs and she’ll be out like a light, she’ll sleep until you get back.”

“I don’t know…” Sam sighed.

“How about this,” Rowena said. “You put her to bed, and leave once she’s asleep. I’ll watch over her, and I’ll call you if she worsens.”

“Alright.” Sam looked at you. “Is that ok kiddo?”

You nodded sleepily, suddenly not so eager to fight another nap.

“Sammy, my tummy hurts,” you whimpered.

Sam nearly melted at this, more reluctant than ever to leave you.

“I know sweetheart, c’mon let’s get you into some pjs and then you can go to sleep, ok?”

Sam helped you get dressed while Dean packed for the hunt. It didn’t take long to have you tucked into bed, and you fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow.

Sam lingered in your doorway, unsure about leaving you like this.

“She’ll be fine,” Rowena soothed the Winchester brother. “She’s asleep, and I’ll call you if anything changes.”

“Alright,” Sam sighed, grabbing the bag that Dean had packed him. “Just…take care of her, ok?”

“Always,” Rowena responded.

And she did. When the Winchester brothers returned, your fever had broken and you were resting on the couch with Rowena, some cartoon playing on the tv.

“Hello boys,” she greeted when she saw them.

“Hey kid.” Sam went straight to you, brushing your hair away from your face. “Are you feeling any better?”

Rowena went to speak to Dean while you answered Sam with a distracted “yeah,” continuing to watch your cartoon.

“Her fever broke,” she explained to him. “I think it’s best if she rests a bit more, though.”

“Thank you, Rowena,” Dean said sincerely. “She really seems to like you.”

Rowena smiled. “She does, doesn’t she?”

…

“Did you have fun?” Sam asked you.

You nodded, finally pulling your gaze from the cartoon.

“Yeah, I like Auntie Row!”

Sam smiled softly.

“I’m glad.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl

[werewolfbarista]

these r also from 2010:) ive drawn a couple of these characters more recently here and here

in the third pic, the characters on the left and right belong to a couple friends :>

one like and u get to witness my ancient keroro oc art too

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Man 7

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow,” you utter with each step, the pinch of Floyd’s-- Lloyd’s hand digging into your neck.

“Shut up,” he growls as he as good as drags you.

You walk on your toes, scurrying to keep up. You cling to his wrist to keep your balance as the witnesses turn their heads away. What the heck? What is going on? No one’s going to help you?

“Get in,” he opens a car door and push you so you nearly ding your head on the side.

You catch yourself on the metal and carefully duck down, only for him to shove on your head and slam the door. You compress yourself in the seat as he stomps around the hood. Jeez, that sort of anger isn’t good for you.

He drops into the driver’s side and hits the steering wheel, his anger brimming through flared nostrils. You watch him nervously, waiting for him to explode. It’s like you can see the fuse burning, getting shorter and shorter as he tries to calm himself.

“I’m done talking,” he snarls and sits back heavily. He pulls at his belt buckle as he lifts himself above the seat. “You’re going to use that mouth for something good. I don’t wanna hear another word.”

He pushes his fly open as the buckle tinks and you cringe as he shoves down the elastic of his sleek leopard print briefs. Wow, very 70s of him. He rolls the fabric down his thighs as his dick springs free and you put your hand over your lips, hiding a smile as you snort.

He lowers himself and snarls over at you, “are you laughing?”

“N-no. Well, yes, but I just think... they kinda look funny, don’t they?” You poke your finger up to mimic his hard length. “Boing.”

“What is wrong with you?” He sneers. “How many have you even seen?”

“You know, I’ve been on the internet. I’m a child of the digital age so... probably too many.”

“Jesus, shut the fuck up,” he grabs the back of your head and jerks you towards him, “look, sweet lips, do yourself a favour and stop resisting.”

“Um, favour?” You reach out to grab the steering wheel, fighting to stay away from his lap, “I... I got dry mouth. I can’t--”

“Just open up,” he grunts, shoving on you. He’s strong.

Your arm bends and you collapse onto him, headbutting his dick as you do. You shake your head as you raise it and he suppresses a whimper. He fists your hair and pulls you up, jarring your head back violently.

“Fuck off,” he grits out, “open your damn mouth. And no teeth.”

“Look, I really am not in that kinda mood--”

“I’m about to break your teeth, cupcake. Are you gonna keep arguing?”

You blink at him and weigh a life time of smoothies and broth. His eyes narrow and you gulp. You squeeze your lips tight and try to dip your chin down. He slackens his grip just enough for you to make eye contact with his tip.

Whew, okay, right, you’ve seen some things on The Hub. It can’t be that hard. Figuratively. Literally, it does look pretty hard.

You shudder and suck in a breath. Well, here goes nothing. This isn’t really how you saw your first-time but nothing’s really gone to plan, has it?

You lick your lips and open your mouth as you bring your hand around to grip him. Thick, you think. Looks and feels like it. But the skin, so smooth. You didn’t expect that. You face down the great dragon, throbbing up at you, you will vanquish your foe.

You lower yourself down and hover your lips above his swollen head. You stick your tongue off and flick it around his tip. He twitches and lets out a hiss. You try not to laugh. So sensitive. You press your lips around him and continue to swirl your tongue. You’re not super sure of what you’re doing but it feels right, even though the circumstance is very wrong.

You stretch your lips around him until your jaw aches. He’s gotta be big. Thinking about it, maybe thinking too much, he’s a lot like the men you see in your incognito searches. You’re no prude, you just haven’t found the right person. He’s definitely not the one but well... let’s not think about that.

You ease onto him, feeling him quiver as his breaths puff out slow and long. You take him deeper and deeper, pausing as he grazes the back of your throat. You inhale through your nostrils and try to rear back. He keeps a hold on you, urging you down.

Your throat strains around him as he forces his dick deeper. You nearly gag, your foot kicking the interior. You’re bent over the console, half-twisted, your shoulder bearing too much pressure for comfort. Your eyes water as you find yourself suffocated with his intrusion.

He holds you there until your quaking. He lets up and you pull off of him, coughing and hacking. He chuckles and releases your hair, petting your head.

“Go on.”

You close your eyes and tremble as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, the other still circled around him. You pump then put your lips around his tip. You flick your tongue around and around, taking him in gradually. You reach your limit then back up, dragging your hand in tandem with your mouth.

A saltiness spreads over your tongue and you press it along his base. He growls and his hand spreads across your crown. He leans back into the seat, extending his legs as far as they’ll go in the cramped space. You hear the leather of the steering wheel creak as he grips it tight as you pick up the pace. Hopefully if you go fast, it will be over soon.

“Slow-- sweet lips, hold up,” he rasps, “slow--” He yanks you off of him and hisses, slamming an open hand on the horn as he spasm and curses, “fuck! I said slow--” He lets go of you and contorts as he cradles his sack and squeezes his dick tight, a gush bursting from the tip, stringing down his knuckles and onto his pants. Those look expensive. “What the fuck? You went too fast.”

“I... I didn’t mean to. I just... I did my best,” you stick out your tongue and wipe it on your sleeve, “I never did that before so... my bad.”

He gapes at you then his eyes drift through the windshield. He shoots a passerby the finger as his little honk drew the attention of curious eyes. He growls and opens his hand, examining the sliminess across it.

“You made this mess,” he snarls, “better clean it up.”

Your brow creases and you shake your head, “you got kleenex?”

“With your goddamn mouth,” he barks and sits back. “Hurry up.”

You keep from looking out the window as humiliation seeps in. The realisation that a very private moment is on display makes you nauseous. You bend over his lap again, once more taking him in your hand.

“Good girl,” he purrs as your lips touch his skin, “gotta say, those hands are a lot quicker than that head.”

[leonakingschlar]

Lion's mane. ✂️

A short Fic of GN!Reader x Leona Kingscholar, doing his hair together. Originally posted on a TWST Community!

Leona groans as the sun filters through his curtains, the dust and such avaliable to see due to it. Hot and stuffy he sits up with blurry eyes and messy hair, practically rolling off his bed as he trudged to the windows, pushing them open lazily with a toothy yawn, his canines out for show as he did so. With that done he sits back down in bed, looking around for his phone he fell asleep with hours earlier. He finds in on the floor and lays back down with it, scratching his stomach with his free hand before turning on his phone.

Greeted by a litter of messages from Ruggie asking stupid questions, then correcting his spelling mistakes in a previous message- It's really just useless. With a huff he clicks out of Ruggies profile and scrolls through his contacts, finding the one saved as 'Herbivore.' and flicking through. It was an assortment of messages from you, saying good-morning or sending him his school scheldule for the day. After texting you back with a few lame stickers and short sentences like, AT 10:24 AM - FRIDAY "Thanks. Lunch at 1. Come to the gardens." AT 10:26 AM - FRIDAY "Icl, I'm so fuckin' tired." AT 10:30 AM - FRIDAY "Will do! Have a good day Leona, hope you wake up better. <3" He puts down his phone, letting out another loud and obnoxious yawn as he gets up and walks to his bathroom..- However. When he see's his hair in the mirror he get's a bit of a shock. braids undone and hair tangled with his hairties, a knot or three easily spotted. Leona took pride in his hair, and this..was not something he likes. With a groan he pulls out his phone again, calling you up immediatley. As he waited for you to arive he angrily, and a bit agressivley showered, attempting to brush his hair- only to hiss and growl in pain. At this point he's just accidentally ripping hair out and filling up his brush, tail fwipping back and forth in annoyance as he sits on his bed with a groan, wet hair dripping onto his blanket and shirt. His sulking is interrupted by a knock at the door. With a growl he opens it up, met with the obvious sight of you. His hair is a mess..tangled and dripping, the look on his face in unimpressed and upset, on the edge of angry.

"..Herbivore." He muttered with gritted teeth, clearly fed up with his own hair as he stepped aside for you to walk in. "Leona..What, happend?" You said softly, blinking in confusion at the man, stiffling a laugh because of his drenched-kitty appearance, his ears flat and pressed against his own head. "I slept..messily." He grunted in response, scratching his messy hair. You smile, eyes crinkling in amusement as you approach, observing his tangled hair and gently pulling little bits apart with your fingers. "Is that so? and I'm assuming you want help." You chuckle. He makes a face, huffing again. "Yes. I want help."

"Alright then..let's get to work.."

You gently tug on the tangles and twists in Leona's hair, causing him to shout, "OWH!" he snarls, sitting in a chair facing the mirror in his bathroom as you brush his hair. His tail was now swishing around in annoyance. You offer him a sympathetic look, cringing slightly everytime the brush got caught. Leona was making a low growling noise in his throat the whole time as you fixed up his hair. "Sorry.." You had to say softly, combing your fingers through his hair, causing the man to let out a happy growl. "It's untangled now.." You assured. To that he grunted and stood up, shaking his hair unruly and putting his own fingers through it- Shedding all over his own clothes, making you laugh quietly. "So..what hairstyle do you want to do?" You ask innocently, only to be swiftly answered. "Braids." You sigh boredly.

"Seriously..try something new." Leona turns his nose up, huffing at you. "Why should I." He mutters. "Well..isn't having braids in what made your hair all messy and tangled?" He stops for a moment, exhaling through his nostrils as he turned his head to face you, giving you an almost pouty look of acceptance as he pursed his lips. "..Fine." Leona muttered to your joy "Yay!". You two sat on Leona's bed, the beastman has his legs crossed, allowing you to gently tug and stroke his hair, styling it. "..What're you doing?" Leona said curiously, ears and tail twitching. "A braid, but just one." Leona stayed quiet, letting you work. It seemed he was drifting off, relaxed from the gentle touches and sun coming through the windows onto his face added to the subtle pleasure.

"Done." You eventually spoke softly, tying up the end of his now braided hair and pulling away. Leona stood up and trailed to the mirror, moving his newfound braid to the front of his chest, admiring it quietly. "Not bad, Herbivore..Maybe you can do my hair some other time, huh?" Leona said with a growing smirk, he attempted to feign nonchalant- Though his tail spoke otherwise as it wagged back and forth.

That week, Leona called you over asking you to do his hair more often.

[notbecauseofvictories]

Longtime follower and I love seeing your insights, so wondered if you had thoughts or advice on this:

I live alone and I'm not in a relationship, though I do date. I'd say ninety percent of the time I really enjoy my life, seven percent I'm a bit sad or annoyed about not having a partner yet, and three percent I get tossed into the Pit of Despair. That three percent can be tied into hormonal cycles, bad timing, etc - even when I know the cause, it still needs to be lived through. Has that happened with you? If so, how do you manage it? I do okay, but it feels like I could do better.

Ah, but the Pit of Despair and I are best friends now. I've sent pictures from the Pit, all featuring me with an absolutely humorless, rictus grin, which does make me wonder why no one else has noticed yet. I have a timeshare in the Pit of Despair. I spend some time there every six months or so, standing in the middle of my impossibly overgrown, dingy garden, and thinking to myself, how did I get here? how do I get out?

And then, as though endurance isn't enough...then your timeshare in the Pit ends. You emerge in the daylight and immediately forget how grey and hopeless that garden was, the weirdly stained, collapsing furniture in the corner and the crooked yellowing plants and that mean laughter you could sometimes hear over the sounds of waving grass. You think to yourself: that will never happen again! I am free! I am cured!

(This will feel so much worse, the next time you're shoved back into the stupid garden.)

That said, I don't think you're going to like my answer to your next question. This is because I don't like my answer; unfortunately, it remains the only answer I have to this question.

I think having some unsettled sorrow, just a touch of existential despair, is the best we can hope to do in this life.

I think that with both rueful humor and deep, deep disgust, which is typically the combo I bring to musings about being a person. Of course it's a little funny---look at the monkey, it's got anxiety!---and of course it's also frustrating, unspeakable outside of bitter cursing, a problem that will not be fixed because quite frankly it's built too deeply into us to be cut out cleanly and thrown away.

(Look at the fucking monkey, you can tell yourself through gritted teeth, standing in that horrible garden with weeks of dirty dishes in the sink and an inbox of emails and friends blowing up your phone with plans you hate to even think about. It's got anxiety.)

I do not have a cure for this. I manage it with the same sort of humor and ruefulness and bitterness that I mentioned above---I don't beat myself up anymore, when I realize I'm standing in the horrible garden again. I know it too well. Sometimes it has an okay wifi connection? I watch some movies. I get done what I can, and forgive myself the rest. I have been here before; I will get out again. I just need to be patient.

Once I'm out, there will be a whole world, I know there will---full of music I haven't heard before and stories that won't make me cringe and emails I will respond to with ease and conversations where I can be light, amusing even. There is a world beyond the Pit. There is always a world beyond the Pit, I just can't find my way back sometimes.

In the meantime, I take another terrible picture in front of the stained furniture, and caption it "Hello from the Pit!!!" with a bunch of exclamation points to indicate that it's a joke, even though it isn't.

I wait.

[darthgloris]

2AM THOUGHTS #4: "This idiot is so down bad, your honour."

Anakin looked out at the campsite and huffed a tired breath. As his eyes flickered through the Clones and Jedi, he happened to catch sight of a familiar face, one he hadn't seen in two years.

He approached her curiously, gently touching her arm to get her attention.

"Y/N?" He asked as he took in her face again. It had to be her. "It can't be..."

"Who are you?" She asked, eyebrows furrowed as she wondered how he knew her name.

"It's me, Anakin!" He said, smiling.

"Ani?" She recalled, and the use of his nickname sent chills down his spine. Her face broke out into a grin as she recognized him and she jumped in joy. "Whoa!" Anakin laughed, joining into her childish outburst of emotion.

"How did you-"

"What are you-"

They giggled as he picked her up in his arms and twirled her around in pure bliss, not caring who saw.

She was back.

He had his Y/N back!

"Maker, I missed you so much!" She said, smiling ear-to-ear.

"I missed you, too! I mean, look at you!" He exclaimed, looking for the right choice of words. "You're grown-up now!"

She giggled, cupping his face in her hands and running her thumbs over his cheekbones. "And you... look how handsome you are now! I didn't think you could get any more beautiful but you look divine..."

He smiled at her in that way that she remembered, how his eyes would sparkle and his adorable dimples would show; that same smile that made her knees buckle still had the same effect on her.

"Me? Have you seen you? You're- you're stunning." He breathed and smiled like an idiot when she hugged him again.

"Master, Master Kenobi and I- oh." Ahsoka said, approaching the two friends.

"Master? You have a Padawan now?" She asked, smirking. "I never would have guessed it."

"Neither would I," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ahsoka, this is Y/N, she's my best friend!"

"It's nice to meet you." The young girl smiled, offering her a nod.

"Oh, please, the pleasure is all mine." She grinned, nodding back. "Is he a good Master?"

"Yeah, he's okay." Ahsoka teased, and Anakin mocked offense by putting a hand on his chest.

"Uh, excuse me!" He said, but he couldn't keep a straight face, making Y/N laugh. He couldn't help but feel a sense of fullness when he heard her laughter leave her lips. Now it was just like when they were Padawans, when he used to make a stupid joke in an inappropriate moment and they'd hold back their snorts until they were forced to, only to burst out laughing the minute they were free until tears beaded up in their eyes.

"Um, why don't I show you around a bit?" Anakin offered.

"Maybe you can show her your tent..." she teased without thinking.

"Ahsoka!" He responded through gritted teeth, glaring daggers at her.

Y/N's cheeks tinted a soft pink, but she regained her composure to answer. "I'd love to, but I have a few things to do right now."

His expression fell slightly, like a puppy who was being denied a chance to go for a walk. "How about we catch up later this evening?"

He immediately smiled again, agreeing without thinking twice. "Of course, that would be perfection!"

He internally cringed at his choice of words. Nice going, you jackass.

Y/N just giggled at his goofiness, and hugged him again. "Great. I'll see you later, Ani." She said and left a soft, lingering kiss on his cheek.

"Bye, Ahsoka." She smiled at the Padawan, who waved back with a small smile as she looked at Anakin, who was watching her walk away while his fingertips grazed the spot her lips touched oh so gracefully.

"You are folding so damn hard for her and I am here for it." She chortled.

"What?! No! No, no!" He denied immediately. He didn't think his crush on her was so obvious. Was it?

"What's going on here?" Obi-Wan asked as he walked towards Master and Padawan.

"Y/N's back." Anakin hurried to speak before Ahsoka.

His response made Obi-Wan guffaw as well.

"This idiot is so down bad, your honour." She explained after his outburst.

"Oh, you have no idea, young one."

"Oh, shut up..." he groaned, but still looked at the direction she went in with a longing expression.

Obi-Wan and Ahsoka shared a knowing smile. She had never seen her Master, usually collected and suave, so head-over-heels for someone.

And she wasn't going to stop teasing him for the life of her.

[the-gay-prometheus]

*through gritted teeth staring at a blank document* I am cringe but I am free I am cringe but I am free I am c-