#FIRST DRAWING OF THE YEAR LET'S GOO

[scarapanna]

"There were two student which always held hands"

[Click for better quality]

[medys-space]

Deceased by rubick cube from hell

[lamelarts]

Baseball time! ✨⚾️

First post of 2024 lets goo 😩👏 u decided to do a redraw of one of my first TOH drawing hehe 💜 Did to see my improvement and im honestly quite proud of my progress 🥺 I aim to better my art skill this year and maybe open comms 👀

Here is the original piece i did 2 years ago 👀🙏

[cosyvelvetorchid]

Bucktommy prompt, with their cute little daughter please, maybe she likes cake too, just like her papa 🥰

This was a super cute idea. Thank you!

You can send bucktommy prompts to my ask. Smut/fluff/angst/whump or a mixture and I’ll write something.

Enjoy

🩶

**********

Buck sighed in contentment as he shifted in bed; nuzzling his head into the crook of his husband’s neck. Tommy’s arms wrapped around him, holding him to his body as he delicately places a series of sleepy kisses to the top of Bucks head.

“Mmm. Happy birthday, baby.” Buck mumbled into Tommy’s warm skin.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to do anything today? We can go to the beach, or somewhere nice for lunch.” Buck asked drawing circles on Tommys chest with his finger tips.

Tommy gently shook his head. “Just want to spend the day with you and Emily at home. Perfect day.”

“Just wait until you taste the birthday cake I bought.” Buck said.

“I’d rather taste you.” Tommy said in the low register that still, after 8 years together, turned Bucks stomach to goo. His lips met Bucks as he moved to position himself on top him, just as their bedroom door opened and an excited 4 year old ran into the room.

“She’s always had great timing.” Tommy laughed in Bucks ear before moving back and sitting up against the headboard.

“Happy birthday papa!” Emily climbed into the bed and practically threw herself onto Tommy.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

“And what are you doing up so early?” Buck asked as he gently tickled her waist.

“I was hungry.” She said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Ah. Well how about some bre-“ he stopped when he noticed the brown substance on Emily’s legs and hands. “Uh, Tommy? Is that poop or chocolate?”

Tommy eyed up his daughter’s hands “I dunno. Smell it.”

“You smell it!”

“I would but it’s my birthday and I seem to remember a certain husband of mine stating once that birthday privileges are a thing.” Tommy argued and Buck cursed his own words.

He sighed and tentatively moved his nose closer to Emily’s hands and quickly breathed a heavily sigh of relief.

“Chocolate.” He said. “Honey, why do you have-oh my god your cake!”

“What?”

“Your birthday cake. It’s a triple chocolate fudge cake. It was hidden in the back of the fridge. That’s the only chocolatey thing she could have gotten in to.” He turned his attention to his daughter. “Did you eat some of Papa’s birthday cake?”

Emily gave a shrug, not looking her dad in the eyes.

“Emily Maddie Kinard. We’ve talked about how important it is to always tell the truth. Did you eat some of the cake?” Emily’s little body sunk down as she nodded in confession. This was the worst part of parenting for them both—she was hard to be mad at when she looked so sad and adorable.

“Why did you do that? You know you’re not allowed to eat treats without asking us first.” Buck asked softly.

Emily shrugged and looked up at Buck.

“I love cake.”

Tommy and Buck both couldn’t stop themselves from laughing.

“Oh she is definitely your daughter.” Buck told him fondly.

“Yes she is.” Tommy replied proudly, delicately kissing her forehead. “Come on you little cake goblin—let’s get you cleaned up.”

[lwolfcat429]

(platonic/romantic) yandere Tmnt (2003-2012 either one) with catra like reader

So imagine this;;

Reader, and her family (I'm using her but you can change it) are happy and living a normal life, until their out for a walk, reader is like a little kid (6-9) and this weird goo fell on them, changing them a little. Cat ears, tail, eyes (color remains the same but her pupils --the black parts of the eyes-- change shape) her skin turns into fur...her parents and are shocked and without thought ran away from her. Leaving her alone, she starts crying but is found by the shredder, he takes reader in to raise his own and karai's sister. Later in years, Reader is literally raised as a child soldier, though she has a hot temper and easily upset, she does good work for shredder and goes to fight the turtles but each one starts having romanic feelings for her because her daminer changes depending on the situation if it's a robbery, reader is more "God, can I robe a place without being disturbed, it annoying ya know? 🙄" But if it's something more serious shes more like "I'm gonna fuckin' kill you!! If you don't start getting out of my way!!" Obviously raph falls her first but Leo next when he sees a small act of kindness, the reader saves a dog from the destruction she has laid out. Mikey next when he sees her stealing games and skateboards, lastly Donnie; he and his brothers were stalking the footclan/ shredders men to find their hideout, when you pulled out a few smart moves with maps, car engineering, swordsmanship ship, etc. showing your both brains and brawn perfectly (as shredder as raised you to be)

The boys can tell you have good in you by the way you speak to animals and Karai but it is also clear your relationship is shredder isn't as father-daughter but more boss-employee, you call him sir, hardly fight him on anything and your cat ears and tail act timidly when his around. He is softer on you and Karai but unlike Karai, he does make you do much harder work than Karai. You do act like him though, having his temper, copying some of his fight moves, even the way he speaks sometimes but other times, the real you cames out, the you you hide from him. Music, painting, fashion, skateboarding, video games, etc

It's good to note here; you haven't inherited Karai's or shredders cruelty, you're actually more merciful than them but still bad, and often hurting other people who work under shredder. You have a temper (previously mentioned) but it's not much to shredders or karai's, you throw stuff or break workers backs, Karai and shredder break more than backs, someone is most likely dead so compared to them, your tame. You use your claws as weapons, whenever your fighting the turtles to try to scratch them but your good at fighting, able to Dodge and use your fist really well.

Let's time skip a bit here

Shredder kidnaps April, and your the only semi nice person to her, often giving her better food (usually the foot gives her mush and gross stuff) you will often hand her a second tray of better looking and tasting food you personally made, explaining you figured she wouldn't eat the first tray and she was better bait when she wasn't starving. And when the mad-scientist, Baxter Stockman, experience on April, you're there to make sure April wasn't being treated poorly or killed. You draw lines in the sand when no one else does. April actually starts liking you better than everyone else because you aren't as bad as everyone else. So when the turtles save her, you let her explain secretly, making April swear to come back and save you

[riseoftheangstywriter]

And here is the part 2 to this post!! Part one with Donnie and Mikey can be found there! :))) This was a fun ask to answer!

Leo

"Are you sure you don't want help?" you offer with a glance over at Leo's current predicament. On top of a pizza box he balances two soda cans and a small container of donuts from your favorite bakery in the city. Of course he's doing this all with one hand.

"Hermosa, please. I've got this. No need for you to lift a fin-" As he says that, something on the concrete makes him just slightly loose his balance, the soda cans rolling off from their position. Landing right into your own hands. "...ger."

Pausing for comedic effect, you grin, an unspoken agreement being made to not bring up what had transpired.

After all, it was your one year anniversary. Not to mention he had gone out of his way to make the sweetest little set up on the roof of this building so you could watch the sunset. Fuzzy blankets, string lights. and Leo. It's more than enough for you.

You settle in your spot, playing with the chain of your brand new necklace, Leo's present to you. It's hard not to admire the glint of the sapphire jewel pendant. Blue, just like his mask. You knew it wasn't intentional, having an affinity for the gem long before your feelings for him ever existed.

It was ironic however, like your heart had always known who it would belong to. Blue blue blue..

You felt strangely sentimental all of a sudden. Yes, it was only a year, ad yet the two of you had been through a lot, individually and together. Not to mention the years of friendship before that awkward stage of desperate yearning and denial.

You were.. proud. Of him, and also the "we" the two of you had become.

Leo enters your space, shoulder pressed against yours. A strand of hair is pushed away from your face. He had this ability to turn you to goo. Despite his occasional shyness, he knew exactly what did it for you. Frustratingly charming, but also way sweeter than he gave himself credit for.

He takes your hand, squeezing it. "Hey, y/n. You ready?" He coos in that deliciously soft tone he used only towards you. "Thinking about me when I'm right here?"

Lost in your head, you turn at his query. Knowing that his ego was just a front by now, you roll your eyes, returning the gesture as you rub memorized patterns into his palm with your thumb. "Maybe." You remember something suddenly. "Actually, I have a favor to ask first. Could you open a portal to my place? Just a small one right over my desk, need to grab something."

"Oh? Forgot something?" Grabbing a small pen from his handy side pouch, it comes alive with his signature ninpo as he draws a small circle in the air, a bright portal appearing.

Sticking your hand through, you feel around for what you're searching for, grabbing it firmly. What you pull out is a flat box, topped with a shiny blue bow, for a touch of flair.

You present it to Leo, a shy smile on your face. "For you. Happy anniversary, Leo."

His initial shock is replaced by a smirk, a signal he was about to make one of those silly jokes you loved. "A box? Y/n, you shouldn't have. And such a fine material?"

"Searched all over, last of its' kind," you play into the bit, trying to ease your growing apprehension about your actual gift to him.

His laugh soothes it, and you lean closer, wanting to see his reaction.

"Whaaaat...?" Leo says when he opens the box, the humor in his words gone and replaced by awe. "This is... the last Jupiter Jim comic I need for my volume 1-6 collection."

You nod, biting your lip. "In mint condition too."

"Y-Y/n, you shouldn't have," he repeats, and you don't miss the slight shake in his tone.

"Hey, don't worry," You lift the comic out from the box, not letting it crinkle to reveal the same exact one directly underneath. "I was able to find another copy. Not in mint condition, but still nice enough where you can read it! This one is just for display, since I know you've been dying to get your hands on it."

Hoping your explanation would make things better, you let him piece together his thoughts. Giving him all the time he needed.

But, what you get in response is what you least expected.

"I.. don't deserve this," like he can't stand to see it anymore, he attempts to move the box back into your lap. "I-I'll ruin it by accident, or whatever, and then all the effort you went through to get them will go to waste." He smiles, though it's fake, not reaching his eyes. "I appreciate it, you have no idea how awesome this is but- I shouldn't have it. Give it to Donnie, he wears gloves while reading his comics for crying out loud."

"Leo.." you say, softly at first. "Leo?" A question this time, because how could he even say that about something he's wanted for so long, and especially directed so negatively towards himself?

You make him look at you, tracing the stripes on his arm knowingly, comforting him. "I'm listening, and I hear you. But... no. No, I will not be giving this gift, your gift to anybody else."

"But I-"

"But I do deserve it is what you better have been trying to say, Leo," you scold gently. No anger or frustration is felt by you. Just an overwhelming amount of love and the need to tell him how he actually deserves every good thing ever, and if you could be an ointment to any pain he's ever felt, you would do so gladly.

"Donnie is just being Donnie, comics are meant to be read anyways right?" You hold his face, staring into his eyes. "I'm more offended you're refusing the box I thought you loved so much."

That line cracks a genuine smile, and you lean in. "There it is. It's fine, I'm hilarious I know. You can laugh."

He does laugh, after he slots his mouth with yours and savors your warmth towards him in a kiss. "You... are perfect. Have I told you that?"

"Mm," you hum, happy. "Yes." And don't ever stop.

You tap the sides of his face, garnering flushed cheeks and a series of churrs that fill your heart.

"Y/n...." He mutters through affectionate chirps. "You can do this later."

"When's later?" you say, relishing in teasing him for a moment longer.

Leo stills you, grasping your wrists. "After we eat, and after we go through the new issue," he kisses you again, making a promise. "I want to read it with you."

To that you could never say no, so you nod. "Okay. Fine. Truce! I surrender. No more more taps until then."

"Thank you.. not for that. For the gift," setting the box aside, he takes you in his arms, running his fingers through your hair.

"Anytime." You mold into him like putty, feeling grateful and content and Leo.

Even if the pizza ends up getting cold because of how long the two of you stay in the embrace, you can't say it wasn't worth it.

Raph

"Y/n, can Raph ask you somethin?"

You glance up from the book you're reading, the turtle mid-rep with the barbell he's working out with held in the air.

"Yeah, of course." you respond, seeing something was on his mind. Clear by the "Raph-chasm" as his brothers always called it.

Raph sets the weight down with ease, sitting up from the bench. "Do you think.. I'm strong?"

Your knee jerk reaction to his question is an exasperated scoff, but you backtrack immediately, feeling like Donnie for a moment before going full support mode. "Raph, come on, you already know you're super strong that its ridiculous; but that's not bad! It's amazing."

He smiles, but just barely, expression going back to a frown. You wonder what must be bothering him so much that he's questioning his own strength.

"Right. But," he exhales, like he's finally letting something off his chest. "Do ya think I'm, well, big?"

Book snapping shut, you set it aside, abandoning it at the sudden shift in tone of this conversation. Having the hindsight to realize it was an important one.

"What do you mean by that? You ask, wanting clarification instead of making assumptions. It was Raph, your patience could never run out towards him.

The snapper grumbles to himself, the regret and frustration in his eyes making your heart twist. "It's silly, I know I'm big. Just.. am I too big?"

Suspicions confirmed you jump up, going by his side. "No. You are not too big," you reach out a hand to touch his shoulder, feeling protectiveness overcome you "Where is this coming from? Did someone say something?" You'd fight them, if you had to.

"No. Nobody said nothin," he takes your hand, letting the gesture calm the storm swirling in his head. "Don't you notice how many things I can't do because of my size?"

"No," you answer. "Who cares about the things you can't do, what about all the things you can? Oh Raph.. your size isn't a detriment, you know that right?"

He looks into your calm, concerned pupils, sighing heavily. "... I do y/n. Raph tends to forget sometimes, that's all. Specially' when I slow the team down, or break something by accident, or I can't wear neat clothes or costumes like the others."

Heart breaking for him, you hold him close, trying to hug him as tightly as you're able. "I'm sorry. I don't know how to fix this, but I'll never love you any less for being who you are. Actually, it makes me love you more."

"Really?" he asks with a voice so small and an embrace so gentle you'd truly never be able to guess what he looked like if you'd never met him before.

"Really." You reply with the certainty you knew he needed. In the back of your mind however, you were thinking of ways to make his situation better.

........................

"Hey! You coming?" You peak your head into Raph's room, where he's standing over his bed, arms crossed as he looks deep in thought.

"Yeah. Be there in a sec." Tonight was the annual Lou Jitsu marathon, everyone dressing up in various versions of their idols' (and also their dads'?) signature outfits.

Raph is struggling to pick from his small collection of accessories he typically wears during such occasions.

You, with innocent intentions and a smile that seems too wide for no reason, enters to intervene. "I can always pick for you, if you want. Hm, how abouttt," you set down a bag. "This."

"What's this supposed to be?" He pokes a digit in the bag to peer inside, your furious nodding urging him on to actually see what this mysterious package is.

"Surprise!" You shout out the moment the blue and orange jumpsuit appears in his hands. Looking like it came fresh off a movie set.

"Is this..." like he almost can't believe it, Raph holds it out, amazed by the fact it actually looks like it might fit him. "Mine?

"Yes! I got it made for you!"

"You did?" you see him search for words, only able to ask. "Why?"

"Because, I know you said how it bothered you not being able to dress up with your brothers. So.. I wanted to show you that it's possible! Sure, it takes some effort, but I don't mind. I'm more than happy to do something like this for you," you never wanted his size to be an insecurity for him, because he wasn't just the "big guy" to everyone. He's the big guy with the biggest heart and humility of anyone you've known.

When tears start welling in his eyes, you can't help but get emotional yourself, letting him take you up in his arms as your feet leave the ground.

"Y/N.. you don't have to go and do stuff like this for me, but it means a lot. Thanks for makin me feel special, I really love ya," he says while almost cradling you back and forth and pressing kisses on your forehead.

"I love you too," you close your eyes, hoping this put his mind at ease, even if it's just for the night. You'd be there for any tough day after the fact.

When Raph offers an arm to you before joining the others, all dressed up and ready for the reaction he's about to get, you realize there's nowhere else you'd rather be.

[the-chosen-fanfiction]

Jesus | Stealing Salvation | Platonic

When you take an abandoned leather bag left on the street for yourself, you are left with a different kind of loot than what you had bargained for.

Requested by Finn

For the third time in five minutes, your stomach unpleasantly rumbles, as if the nagging feeling of emptiness hadn’t been enough of a sign that you’re in desperate need of some food. Clawing at your tummy for a moment in an attempt to keep down the irritating feeling of uneasiness, you swallow hard and squint against the bright sun, letting your gaze fall down onto the market down below. 

It is two days before Shabbat and people are purchasing their wares to celebrate the day of rest. The streets are full with the hustle and bustle its preparations bring forth and a small smirk spreads over your face. The more unattended purses, the better.  

In spite of feeling guilty about it, you don’t really have a choice but to pick pockets whenever you see a chance. Your gut grumbles once again as a reminder of that whilst you descend the small flight of stairs on the side of the house you had been scouting the premises from. You tuck your hands into your pockets, making yourself as small as you can. No one pays attention to a measly orphan roaming around the crowd. 

You keep your eyes peeled for any pouches and satchels hanging from belts, your head low, away from prying eyes alike. 

Suddenly, you collide with someone, a pained noise leaving you as you look up exasperatedly. 

“Watch it!” a man snaps, causing another next to him to give him a look. 

“Come on, now. It’s just a child, Simon.” 

“One that isn’t looking where she’s walking, Andrew.” 

“Hasn’t Jesus taught you anything?” 

The two walk on without as much as another look your way, but your interest piques at the mention of the Name — Jesus. A Name you have been hearing pass through the streets quite often these past months. A Preacher from Nazareth Who has been telling about a Kingdom of heaven where the first will be the last and the last will be the first, where the ones beaten down by society are elevated. They have disappeared behind the corner before you can process the fact that you’d have followed them otherwise to see where they are going, and when you quickly rush to where they vanished, you can’t find them anymore. Your shoulders slump, for you had been curious to know more about this Jesus you have been hearing so much about. 

After all, you hadn’t exactly lived a… Kosher life, so to speak. Ever since your parents passed away, you had been left to your own devices and had been forced to resort to stealing to get by. 

Part of you has always considered yourself lucky that you hadn’t been older when your father passed away when you were only seven years old, leaving you an orphan. Had you been in your teens back then already, you’d have been found by thugs eager to sell you into slavery, or worse, prostitution. 

In spite of petty theft being the lesser evil, you find yourself feeling ashamed about it nevertheless. You’ve never dared to get closer to Adonai, the burden of your sins weighing too heavy on you to allow yourself to ever step foot inside a synagogue. Not that they would let you enter in the first place, for many turned away with a sneer on their face whenever you came near. 

A group of four men walks past you and snaps you from your drifting thoughts, headed in the general direction where the two others had walked towards earlier. Something draws you to one of them. Perhaps it’s the way that He carries Himself, or maybe it’s the large leather backpack around His shoulders. Whatever it is, you decide to shadow them, hands once again in your pockets as you tail them from a distance. 

“Oh, what’s that smell? Are those cinnamon cakes?” one of the men sighs. As you take a whiff, your stomach rumbles once again. That is definitely cinnamon, and what you wouldn’t give…

“You and your cinnamon cakes, James,” a man with wavy hair responds, “You know these won’t be as good as eema’s, so I don’t know why you would even consider them.” Brothers, then. 

“You know we’re a good long way from home, John,” says the man addressed as James, “And I bet the others are also peckish. We’ve walked for quite a bit, right guys?” 

The other two nod; they look alike, but you don’t think they are related. Leaning against a wall, you watch how they come to an agreement. “Let’s get ourselves something small then,” the Man with the backpack suggests. “I’m just going to put this down for a second to rest my back.” 

A small smirk plays over your lips. It looks heavy as He places it down. Perhaps there is something valuable in there, you wonder as the quartet starts walking away towards the stall selling baked goods, providing you with a perfect moment to strike. 

You move with the crowd, trying to appear inconspicuous as you inch towards it step by step whilst your attention flickers from the taupe bag to the men busying themselves with purchasing baked goods. Seeing a window of opportunity, you snatch the leather bag before being about to sprint off, but you nearly collide into someone — with widened eyes, you look up, seeing the same man who had nearly knocked you off your feet only minutes earlier.

“Hey, you again—?! Wait! That bag doesn’t belong to you!” 

Without another thought, you regain your senses and rush off as fast as you can, hearing footsteps behind you right away. Your smaller frame is quicker at first, more agile as you had been prepared to run from the moment you had picked up the backpack.

“Stop right there!”

You to turn left and instantly take a right. Knowing the streets like the back of your hand, you are familiar with all the little nooks and crannies of Jerusalem, hopping over a few crates, ducking under a few low-hanging lines full with wet laundry. You hope it will shake off the man pursuing you; you believe he had been referred to as Simon, but aren’t entirely certain anymore. Not that it matters.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you come to a halt and feel adrenaline rush through your body as you look over your shoulder, only to come eye to eye with an agitated Simon. “You!” You’re instantly on the run again, your lungs burning inside your chest as your legs carry you as fast as they can. 

Finding a ledge, you hop onto it, climbing expertly onto a roof by using a few bricks that are sticking out here and there, a skill gained from years of living on the streets. As soon as you reach the edge, you pull yourself onto it, resting your hands on your knees as you heave for air right after. Down below, you see your pursuer, equally as out of breath, glaring at you as he finds himself unable to continue after you. 

A small victorious smirk finds its way over your lips before you can stop it. The man opens his mouth to speak, to call after you, but you’re already gone, rushing a fair bit over the roofs, hopping down a few and climbing onto others, scaling the premises of Jerusalem until you’re sure that you are a safe distance away from still being caught. 

Exhausted, you make your way down onto the ground and find an abandoned alleyway to get a good look at your haul. You slide down with your back to the wall and draw a few deep breaths, your heartbeat easing as you open the flap of the bag. 

You reach in. An extra tunic, which you do not mind, since your current one had started to wither away with irreparable holes that frayed further and further through wear and tear. A bag of pistachios. You crack open the shells of a handful by using your rusty pocket knife and start munching on them with a sigh as you happily fish out an apple to quench your thirst at the same time. Taking a large bite, you continue exploring the contents. 

A small bridle. You frown at the sight of how worn it looks. The leather is far form supple anymore and seems as if it is about to fall apart. Guilt forms inside your gut. It must have some kind of sentimental value  to the owner of the bag, otherwise He wouldn’t have bothered carrying it around on His travels. You sigh and put it aside for now, rummaging through the rest of the items inside. 

A pair of worn sandals. You don’t pay those much attention. A few pretty rocks which you play around with in your palm for a few moments. You take another bite of the apple. 

“I believe you have something that belongs to Me.” 

A voice, non-accusatory yet touching you to the bone, reaches your ears and causes you to startle. Red hot shame claws at your throat. 

“I…” 

The Stranger approaches you, causing you to stagger to your feet with the bag in your hands. Embarrassed, you watch how the apple falls from your lap half-eaten and rolls until it halts right in front of Him. He looks at it for a moment before turning to you again.

“You’re hungry.” 

“I’m sorry, I…” you swallow hard as you rub at your throat, feeling ashamed, especially since this Man is so kindly smiling at you, that He means no harm even though you’ve stolen from Him. “I am.” 

“I know. I hope you’ve enjoyed the apple. I had put in an extra one just for the occasion.” 

Your brow furrows in confusion. “I… What?” 

“I didn’t put down My bag for no reason. Actually, I was counting on you to take it from Me, just so I could come here to speak to you. I even brought you some bread.” 

You should know better than to accept food from strangers, but when the Man holds out the fresh rye loaf, you can’t help but wolf it down with ravenous intensity. 

“Who are You?” you ask with a mouth full of food, taking another bite as you look up at the Man. 

“My name is Jesus.” He comes to sit down next to you so both of you are with your back against the wall.

You nearly choke on your food, but gather yourself with a few coughs. Jesus hums and smiles kindly. “Easy there, my daughter. No one is taking it away from you. You have been living this kind of life for a long time, no?” 

You nod and swallow your food. “For most of my life,” you admit. 

“You’re very young. It must be rough for you.” 

You pluck some soft bits from the centre of the bread to eat from it as Jesus offers you a water-skin. “I’m not proud of it, but I have no choice. It’s better than being a slave. At least I’ve still got my freedom now.” 

Jesus looks at you for a thoughtful moment, allowing you some time to eat and drink before asking questions again. “What is your name?” He asks once you’ve eaten most of your fill. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and pry some bread from between your teeth with your tongue before responding. 

“It’s (Y/n).” you say, “At least, I think that is what my parents called me, if I recall correctly.” 

Jesus gives a gentle nod. 

“Why are You being nice to me?” you ask, “I stole from You. There is no reason for You to be kind to me, and yet You are.” 

“You know Who I am, don’t you?” 

You nod, taking a sip of water. “I do, I’ve heard about You. Which makes me wonder it even more, why You are even willing to speak to me and buy me food. Someone Who is so close to God shouldn’t even want to be in my proximity. I’m a thief, a lowlife…” 

“What matters to Me is your intention. You steal to survive, not because you want to. However, I need you to know this: The Lord provides for the birds of the air. Would He then not provide for you also? Is the body not more than food? Essential as food may be, stealing is not the solution to your problems. It only creates more of them.” 

You lower your gaze, agreeing with the words. You have had your fair share of trouble along the way ever since you resorted to petty theft to get by. “This life you lead is not one I wish for you to lead,” Jesus tells you. “I have something way better to offer you, something everlasting.” 

“But I’ve stolen things that don’t belong to me for so long… I’m not sure if I can live up to it. I don’t— I don’t deserve it.” you whisper. 

“Forgiveness is not something you can earn through being a good person,” Jesus tells you, “But it is a gift you receive in spite of not deserving it.” 

Mulling over the words, you take another swig of water. 

“So what do You suggest I’d do, then? It’s not like I can afford a house, and no one wants to take me into their home since there are so many urchins already.” 

“So… Follow Me.” Jesus suggests, a question that takes you so aback that you drop the remainder of the bread onto the dirty ground below. You are just starting to apologise since the action may be considered wasteful even if done so by accident, but Jesus smiles at you softly. 

“I will give you a different kind of bread. You will not go hungry again. I will provide you with spiritual food, that will neither expire nor be taken away from you.” 

“I don’t know what that means,” you must confess, smiling a bit sheepishly. “But if You’d have me…” 

“I wouldn’t have asked you otherwise.” Jesus chuckles a bit. “You have much to learn, but you have time. My students will be glad to have you.” 

You open your mouth to respond, but someone interrupts; the man who had been pursuing you earlier lets out an offended sound as he steps closer. “There you are, you little—” As soon as he sees the Messiah, his insult hitches in his throat. “Jesus.” 

“Simon,” Jesus responds, smiling gently as He helps you up. “Meet My new student, (Y/n). She is in need of someone who can show her the ropes on her first few days with us and I think you would be a good fit to do that.” 

The man sighs, but then nods in sudden determination. If Jesus wants you with the group, Simon will not oppose it. After all, he had done so when Matthew joined as well, and he learnt to trust Jesus whenever He asked His followers to join them. “Yes, Rabbi.” 

Jesus squeezes your shoulder before taking up His bag, putting the bridle back in and leading you away. 

“So, are you ready for your new life?” Simon asks you as you follow Jesus out of the alleyway. 

“I am,” you say, “The one I used to lead was hardly a life at all.” 

Simon hums in acknowledgement. “I think all of us feel like that, really,” he tells you. “That our lives before Jesus didn’t really matter all that much. But then again, our pasts do not define us. What matters now is who we are in Him.” 

“I can’t wait for my new life to start,” you muse.

On that note, you head with them, approaching your destiny with newfound purpose.

[mrbrightxside]

when you get this ask, you have to answer with 5 of your favorite songs and then send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers!!!

Shaking shaking shaking

(Featuring a drawing of stupid me on top and a drawing of Marnie + me !!! :DD silly weirdos...)

AHHHH this one of the hardest questions for me no doubt... well... shit there are so many though that, maybe changed me LMAOJDJDNND

Mary On A Cross - There's honestly something in the way (Beatles reference 🤯) this song is made (I've been listening for years trust 🙏🙏) and just. The "You go down just like Holy Mary..." part is really beautiful and uh. I want to rise from a coffin like a vampire with someone listening to this ???

Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want - I know it sounds dumb but I honestly resonate with the lyrics (it sounds so depressing JSJENJEKE) anddd every version is good, The Smiths, Dream Academy, Deftones, Muse, you name it...

Helena & Famous Last Words - Yes I know don't give me that look I know I put two songs they're tied 💔💔, but Helena was the first MCR song I was introduced to and the music video makes me emotional and just. Everything. And the second, it gives me inspiration to just keep going with. Life?? and. Agh that one part is SO GOODDDDD

Early Sunsets Over Monroeville - Yes I know I put another MCR song but. I just. Want to hold someone's hand and watch the sunset for real and it's just like. Me and who??? <33 Sigh. I need to give someone love.

Iris (Goo Goo Dolls) - I've been listening to this lately and. It just makes me want to lay down and stare at the ceiling. I can also just resonate with it and. Another me and who song JSJNEKDNEN GODDD I'm listening to it right now actually

(+ I also really like "Bruises & Bitemarks" uh... no explanation it's just. A good song haha !!!! Meandwho sorry what ??? Man I'm so bad at explaining stuff someone shoot meJDJENJEN Thanks for reading my ramble of the day :))

[mal-urameshi]

Hearts Under Pressure

A/N: Hey hey everyone! So in my dusty Asks, I remember I had asked about what trope you wanted and a good few of you mentioned Academic Rivals/Enemies to lovers! Now here's the kicker. I distinctly remember, IIRC, @roseamongroses put in a detailed request, however, tumblr at the time deleted it? Because I never touched it. But it had been on my mind ever since and I was like yo! When I have time I must make it a reality! So in my comeback, I'm doing my best to give you guys some decent literature while dusting off my rust! Let's goo!

Pushing, shoving, crowding, loud murmurs and squeaking of shoes against tile and or hard-wood floors. All tell-tale signs of students who are eager, desperate, essentially feral to find out about their academic standing.

Sighs of relief, woeful groans and the occasional hiccup leading to wails of horror wafted through Shuri's ears.

This was not new to her, nor did the reactions of her colleagues phase her. Shuri staggered forward as another worried student fought and shoved their way to the front of the crowd in hopes to find their name at a decent rank.

Shuri had no need to fight her way to the front row, however. Her eyes automatically zoned in on the name at the top of the list.

'Shuri Udaku.' stared back at her in bold font.

That was all she needed to know. Turning away, she manoeuvred herself out of the classroom and headed down the hallway. And just like that the first semester of her second year had concluded.

The courses weren't particularly hard, yet her colleagues never posed much of a challenge to her. Their efforts were decent at best, but they were a far cry from being able to intellectually stimulate her.

For the entirety of her academic tenure thus far, she topped every class she'd been in. The lecturers praised her and certain students envied her performance. That was to be expected.

Don't get her wrong, she wasn't bragging or being boastful, nothing of the sort. She was simply unmatched.

Glancing at her watch, she decided to go get something to eat to kick off her week-long break.

Monday came quickly which meant classes had resumed. Shuri adjusted her shades as she walked through campus. Her first class was in the next five minutes so she hurried along the parking lot.

The revving of an engine caught her ears, and right as she turned around her heart nearly leaped out of her chest.

Luckily, the car braked in the nick of time, else she would have been road kill.

The driver's side of the car opened and a short girl with cornrows stepped out, "Yo! I'm so sorry! I coulda killed you just now. Thank God I didn't, right?" The girl tried to laugh it off, "I thought I fixed the braking issue but I should take a look at it later."

Shuri took a step back from the...she gave the car a once over. It was a red Ford Mustang. It looked to be in great condition. Save for the questionable mechanics.

"I'm just grateful you didn't kill me. I'd love to stay and chat, but I have a class to get to and I'd hate to be late." And with that, Shuri turned on her heel and walked off to class.

Not before looking back at the girl one last time. She was cute.

It seemed Bast herself was looking out for Shuri as she somehow made it to class with time to spare. She took out her notebook and began scribbling some notes as the teacher broke down the syllabus for the semester.

Twenty minutes later the door to the classroom opened, drawing the attention of the class.

"Sorry Teach! I was looking for a parking space but I couldn't find one. I had to improvise."

Shuri recognized the girl as her almost-murderer from earlier.

"I don't need excuses. Just find a seat so I may continue with my class."

The girl nodded and looked for the closest vacant seat. Once seeing one she made her way to it. In her short trek, she recognized Shuri and waved to her before she sat down.

Shuri gave the lecturer her utmost attention after that and once it was time to leave she packed up her things and began her departure. However, something, or rather someone still seated at one of the desks caught her eye. It was the girl who almost killed her from this morning.

She was fast asleep. Was she even paying attention after she came in? She'll miss her next class if she kept that up. Not that it was any of Shuri's business how this girl chose to spend her time.

"Hello? Excuse me?" Shuri poked the girl which caused her to rouse.

"Class is over. You should vacate the room. Unless you have another class scheduled here?"

The girl sharply inhaled and rubbed her eyes, "Oh shit. I didn't realize I knocked out. That lecturer was so boring, talking in Times New Roman font and all that." She chuckled to herself.

Shuri didn't humor her with a laugh. Clearly she doesn't have her priorities in check if she willfully fell asleep in classes as she does.

Having enough chit-chat, Shuri walked out of the room and headed to her next class, but she heard hurried footsteps following behind her.

"My name is Riri by the way! And sorry again about this morning. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Shuri looked down at the girl, "No. I'm not dead, so we can put that whole thing behind us."

"Oh, okay. By the way, I like your accent, where is it from?"

"I'm from Wakanda." Shuri simply stated.

"That's cool! But I still feel bad about this morning. Here's what, if you have trouble with any of your school work, I can tutor you, no charge."

Shuri nearly faltered at the proposition and couldn't help the smirk that formed on her face.

'She wants to tutor me? Someone who is unable to stay conscious during a class session.'

What a laughable proposition.

"I have not seen you here before. Are you new?"

Riri haughtily rubbed her pointer finger under her nose, "Yea. I just transferred here on scholarship."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks!"

Shuri stopped at the door to her next class, "This is where we part ways. I'll see you around."

"What a coincidence!" Riri pointed at the door, "This is where my next class is!"

Shuri pushed open the door, "After you."

Riri found herself a seat and Shuri opted to find one higher up the rows. She preferred a more secluded space for optimal performance.

However, as class went on, she couldn't help but stare at Riri during the duration of the class.

She didn't take notes, she looked bored and at times she had her head on the desk, which gave the impression that she was sleeping.

Was Riri just here for attendance?

It's such a shame that a scholarship was wasted on her. Granted, she didn't know her that long but just off her disposition in class, Shuri had all she needed to know about the girl.

As the weeks progressed Riri made quite the name for herself. One, she was quite loud and rowdy. Getting into it with entitled white boys. Something about them not paying their dues.

Shuri was fairly certain it was perhaps an issue with scamming. As far as she knew, Riri charges for doing other people's assignments. But as far as she's observed the girl learns nothing in class. Having not seen her take a single note since she came here.

Hm. Well, she doesn't have to be good at the work if you think about it. She is charging them to do the assignment, it doesn't have to be correct. Shuri respected the hustle. Taking advantage of lazy students to make ends meet is one way to do things.

Hopefully Riri knew what she was doing. She had everything to lose with that scholarship and everything.

Not that Shuri particularly cared. Exams will chew the poor girl up and spit her out in due time.

Midterms rolled around soon enough and a tale as old as time, Shuri was ready for them. It just so happened that Riri and her shared almost every class she was enrolled in this semester. So they saw each other quite frequently but with very little interaction.

It wasn't that Shuri was avoiding the girl but they definitely wouldn't have anything in common so it made no sense trying to interact further. Saving herself the trouble made the most logical sense.

To Shuri's surprise, though it shouldn't, Riri was the first person to leave the room after submitting her paper. That was to be expected of someone who barely paid attention in class. She gave a mental clap for her not staying and wasting her time.

It went on like that for the rest of exams as well. Within the first hour or less, she was the first out of the room. Pity.

And yet, Riri didn't look like she had a care in the world. She joked around and carried herself with that same laid-back air about herself.

It befuddled Shuri, but as the Americans say, if Riri liked it, then she loved it.

The next week rolled around as results were finally posted from midterms.

Pushing, shoving, crowding,loud murmurs and squeaking of shoes against tile and or hard-wood floors. All tell-tale signs of students who are eager, desperate, essentially feral to find out about their academic standing.

Sighs of relief, woeful groans and the occasional hiccup leading to wails of horror wafted through Shuri's ears.

This was not new to her, nor did the reactions of her colleagues phase her. Shuri staggered sideways as a worried student fought and shoved their way to the front of the crowd in hopes of finding their name at a decent rank.

Shuri had no need to fight her way to the front row, however. Her eyes automatically zoned in on the name at the top of the list.

However, her mouth hung in shock at the name in bold font.

'Riri Williams.'

Her eyes dropped to the second rank where her name was placed, 'Shuri Udaku.'

"Impossible." Shuri licked her lips in disbelief.

"Holy crap! I'm number one here too! That's 5 outta 7. " Someone said beside her.

Shuri looked to her side and regarded Riri who had a satisfied smirk on her face.

"You were this close, huh?" She looked up at Shuri, "You're a decent rival."

Shuri's eyebrow twitched behind her shades.

This...this girl who never pays attention in class, who blusters and boasts around campus like she owns the place. Never takes notes. She bested her in academics.

Clearly the lecturers were off mentally because there was no way she topped her 5 out of 7 times.

Shuri shoved her hands into the pockets of her tracksuit and walked out of the classroom. Much to her surprise and slight annoyance, Riri was by her side.

"Bet you wished you took me up on my offer in tutoring you now." Riri boasted.

Shuri scoffed, "I don't need help with tutoring."

"Says the girl that's second to me." Riri sing-songed.

Shuri stopped and turned to Riri. She raised her sunglasses to look at her properly, "I suggest you don't get too comfortable. Luck was at your side this time around."

She didn't know why she was so agitated. Yes, actually she did know. It was because Riri beat her.

"Nah, I don't believe in luck." Riri crossed her arms, "It's all skill and brains. My offer still stands, I'll tutor you free of charge. My dorm's always open."

Shuri gave her a once over before replacing her sunglasses, "You'd love that, wouldn't you?"

She has an attitude, beauty and brains. A trifecta.

Riri shrugged, not trusting herself to answer.

A few days later, after their papers were returned, Shuri sought Riri out. Luckily it didn't take long as she was munching on a sandwich under a tree.

"I want to compare grades." Shuri demanded as she plopped herself down opposite Riri.

"Well hello to you too." Riri eyed Shuri.

"Yes hello, now let me see your papers. Quickly."

Riri rolled her eyes but did as was told. Shuri removed her shades and went over each question. Her frown deepened with each paper she compared.

Riri bested her by varying percentages. Ranging between two or point five.

Shuri threw the papers on the grass and rubbed her forehead, "And here I was thinking you were an idiot and would eventually drop out."

"Excuse me?" Riri narrowed her eyes. She really didn't want to get into it with this girl.

"I want to extend my deepest apologies for judging a book by its cover. Because you never showed an interest in class up until this point, I was under the impression you would have flunked out. But your grades say otherwise."

"Uh. Thanks. It's light work for a genius, you know?"

"So I assume you knew all the material before hand?"

Riri nodded, "Yea, I went over the syllabus before each class and brushed up on what I needed to know and just show up for attendance. It's not that hard."

"At least I was right about one thing." She stretched herself out on the grass and cradled her head in her palm.

"Don't get comfortable though. That was only a one-time thing. I had gotten complacent is all."

"If you hadn't gotten complacent then you wouldn't be so tight about me pulling the rug out from under you. That sounds like a you problem."

Shuri exhaled through her nose. She was right. She shouldn't take out her frustrations on her. Clearly she was intelligent. Riri had more depth to her than Shuri gave her credit for, so it was indeed a 'her' problem.

"You look good without your shades. I mean you look good with them on too, it's just that you look better with them off."

Shuri laughed, "Thank you. I love your straightbacks."

"Thanks." She took a bite out of her sandwich, "You know I assumed you had social anxiety or something."

"Why is that?"

"You always sat to the back of the class and with your shades on too so I assumed you don't like to make eye contact. And you don't talk to anyone. Only time you did was when I initiated a conversation with you."

Shuri nodded, "I get why you may assume that. I just tend to be in my own world and nobody approaches me. I've been told I am intimidating and that I stare a lot so I wear my shades. But it's mostly because I think I look cool with them on. Don't you think? I look mysterious and all that."

Riri braced herself against the tree and wheezed in laughter, "Because you look mysterious?!"

"And cool." She clicked her tongue, winked and waved finger guns.

"You're corny as hell, Shuri."

Shuri's mouth gaped while holding a hand over her chest, "I am not!"

Riri smiled and shrugged as Shuri gathered the papers and neated them.

"Well, I'm glad you came along, you'll make things more interesting for me, seeing that I met my match and all."

Riri gave Shuri a look, "Are we still talking about academics here?"

Shuri smoothed a hand over her undercut in contemplation, "Do you want me to be talking about something else?"

"If you wanna say something, you should say it with your chest. I don't care for beating around the bush." Riri said matter-of factly.

"Okay. Seeing that I clearly don't need your tutoring I'd like an alternative offer in you making it up to me. Since my family could have been mourning my death and all that."

"Go on." Riri encouraged.

"We should go out on a date together." Shuri looked at Riri and waited on her reaction.

"Okay, sure. We can do that." RIri grinned.

Shuri fist pumped in glee, "Good how's tomorrow after our last class?"

"Sounds good."

[alaydabug2]

Yeah so I decided to take a happy song and make it sad again 🙂

Enjoy ☺️

(Keefe pov)

"Come on," Ro groaned. "Are you really not going to tell her?"

"No! Stop bugging me." Keefe turned around in his chair. "She's with Fitz. She's happy. If she wants him, who am I to tell her otherwise?"

"Don't you think you should at least let her know that she has another option."

"No. I'm not going to do that to her. That's going to complicate things, and I can't lose her."

Keefe sighed and went back to trying to draw the scene he was working on. It was when he had pranked his father the other day, covering him with goo.

"You've already lost her," Ro muttered. "She's with Captain Perfect."

"Ok and? That's none of my business. I need to stay out of it."

She rolled her eyes and stalked off.

-------------------------------

"I can't believe it!" Keefe faked his smile. "I'm proud of you, dude. Finally manned up and proposed."

The war was over. It had been for quite a few years now. Sophie and Fitz had stayed together through it all. He didn't want his friends to hurt, but that small, extremely selfish part of him hoped that they'd break up. Give one more chance for him to shoot his shot. It never came.

"Thanks." Fitz's grin was so elated and genuine, Keefe felt awful for being jealous. Not that he'd ever tell him that.

He was happy for his friends. He truly was. But the emotional turmoil in his heart...

But... he was too late. And he knew that. The only thing he could do now was grit his teeth through it all and pretend he didn't feel his heart breaking apart every time he saw them together. Keep his tears in until he was safe in his room and cry himself to sleep.

It was torture. But he could do it. He'd been doing it for fifteen years at that point.

No, he couldn't....

-------------------------------

Day of the wedding came. Ro had come to visit for it. Instead of the gloating he was expecting for never saying anything, there was a soft look on her face.

"You alright?" She asked.

Keefe shrugged. He adjusted his tie. "I'm ok," he lied.

"No, you're not."

"I'm happy for them," he insisted.

"That's not what I asked." She moved closer. "I asked if you were alright."

He cleared the thickness from his throat. "I have to be. I'm the best man."

Ro pursed her lips. She let out a sigh. "Ok, then. If you say so."

He played off the water in his eyes during the ceremony as tears of joy. They were anything but. He forced his lips into a smile. He had to make it through the ceremony. He couldn't have a breakdown at his best friend's wedding over the girl he was marrying because he loved her.

Gosh, he loved her. It physically hurt to watch. A constant beating to his heartstrings.

Then, it was announced for the bride and groom to kiss. Oh, he couldn't watch. It made him feel sick.

He had to, though. Had to pretend it was all alright. Cause he couldn't let all that hard work of pretending for years go down the drain. Two very important friendships depended on it.

He still couldn't stomach it, though.

The reception was next. He found a quiet table to sit at far off in the corner. In the distance, Sophie and Fitz were having their first dance. He could feel the waves of joy coming off of Sophie from where he was sitting.

They were happy.

That's what he had to keep reminding himself to keep him sane. They were happy.

He picked one of the dandelions out of the vase on the table. He gently blew on it. He stopped himself when he was about to make his wish.

For so many years, he would wish for Sophie to miraculously change her mind. But... that ship had sailed. It was hopeless now.

Instead, he wished he could get over his feelings. But he knew there was no hope for that either.

He could feel his composure breaking. A stray tear fell down his cheek. He smudged it away and fled to the bathroom.

He could only make it to lock himself in a stall before breaking out into heavy sobs.

All hope was gone. The girl he loved was with his best friend and he couldn't do anything to change that.

[cheemscakecat]

Can’t find it, but I saw someone draw Fiddleford erasing Ford’s memory into goo and it gave me pain. Here’s my reasoning for why that didn’t happen/wouldn’t happen.

Fiddleford isn’t nearly as athletic as Ford. Now, there are probably Blind Eye members more capable of chasing after Stanford if they were trying to forcefully erase his memories, but that doesn’t mean they’d be successful. The man may be depriving himself of sleep, but he’s built up enough brute strength and endurance to escape. He made it home after collapsing in a truck stop parking lot, and managed to fight Stanley in the portal room.

The Blind Eye members wouldn’t know the layout of the forest and mountains as well as Ford. He spend years out by himself in nature, trying to drink in every detail. Even the members who know the forest because they grew up there haven’t looked at the forest the same way as him. These are people scared of the supernatural who willingly joined Fiddleford’s memory erasing cult. They aren’t going to be experts in Gravity Falls guerrilla warfare.

The memory gun eventually made the Blind Eye members forget who their founder was, and the forced use on the townsfolk made everyone stupider. The young people like Soos and Wendy haven’t had their minds erased as often, so they aren’t affected like the adult population. While pre-portal journey Ford would be up against the first generation of cultists before they forgot Fiddleford, I still feel like the effects of the memory gun would hamper their efforts to hunt him down. Especially if he goes into the mountains and woods full of creatures these cultists have been trying to forget.

Bill would be annoyed like a bratty toddler if Stanford lost his memories, so he’d oppose it too. Not out of care for the man [shipping them is extremely gross], but because he’s impatient to get that portal running, and takes too much delight in tormenting Ford. Knowing this group of people is afraid of the supernatural, should Ford be captured by the cult somehow, Bill would intimidate them into letting him go. Or beat them up using his body.

5. Ford was becoming aware of Fiddleford’s use of the memory gun before he left the project. He was already getting [rightfully] paranoid about Fidds before the reveal that Bill was evil, but that paranoia only got worse after the fact. He’s no coward about it; the man still went into town and was chasing Blind Eye members to try and find out who they were. But yes, Ford is smart and anxious enough to watch his back in town, in case the Blind Eye tried to get him.

6. Fiddleford wasn’t just the founder of the memory erasing cult, he was also the most addicted to using the machine on himself. Which explains why he lost his mind and became homeless so quickly, while the other members like Ivan are still sane enough to run the cult. Pre-portal journey would also be the time when memories about Bill were the freshest, so it’s safe to assume Fidds was using that ray on himself plenty. Even though both men were in a deteriorating metal state, Stanford was not as unwell or near the point of insanity.

7. Ford was always better at dealing with the stress of dangerous anomaly attacks and horror, which served him well in those thirty years beyond the portal. He also survived for 30 years while an outlaw, homeless, lost, and still at risk of possession [until he met the Oracle]. If it got bad enough in Gravity Falls and the cult was looking for him, Ford could survive in the wilderness just fine. Or escape to another town in Oregon or the surrounding states. But he’s probably return as soon as he thought they had given up to make sure the portal was secure.

8. For Ford to be turned into a shell of himself like in the drawing, he’d have to have something integral to his identity erased. Something like “the supernatural” or “weirdness” itself. But A. That would probably break the memory gun or require an hour’s worth of memory canisters. And B. That would so obviously send the poor guy back to when he was a toddler that Fidds would immediately realize he messed up. Why a toddler? Because he hadn’t met the bullies at school yet, and extended family would find him more cute than weird.

But yeah, if Ford started talking like a 3-4 year old who thought he’d been kidnapped, there’d be no way to argue that he’s okay. They’d have to try to sort through his dense paranormal memories in that pile of canisters, trying to undo the damage.

9. If they did mess up Ford’s mind that badly, Fidds would feel terrible about it and try to fix it. I imagine Stanley would be contacted using Ford’s old mail, and knock some sense into the cultists on his way to revive Stanford’s mind. And the erasure wouldn’t stop Bill from being terrible to Ford, so it would once again prove that Fidds was wrong to erase his mind in no uncertain terms.

10. Even at the height of his cult arc, I doubt Fiddleford would be so full of it/stupid that he erased “the paranormal” from Ford’s mind. They knew each other for years, he should know that it’s something Stanford cherishes, and has ever since he was a child. Which ultimately means there’s a nil chance of Ford getting lobotomies via memory gun, even with Blind Eye Fiddleford on the prowl.

So yeah, TDLR I must not be over that ancient AU where Dipper gets his entire mind wiped and the cult just keeps him like a servant. Kidnapped a 12 year old boy. [Ivan wasn’t that evil bro].

[epicqtefail]

Libby I love your art and your blog and your sense of humour <3 every single time you call one of your doodles shit a part of me withers away and dies. now, I don't want to die :( so please reconsider your approach to your art (also imagine me - the anon icon, shades and all - sprinkling you with some water like you would a misbehaving cat every time you're unsatisfied with your art) unfortunately your blog has one side effect, that I didn't even consider before. I've been memefying Connor. Because of your comics. Can you imagine how much of a shock it was to play dbh again after listing thru ur blog like it's the morning newspaper, only to find that the weirdo filled with beans - the Connald McDonald - and the resident bullet dodging badass are the same person?

well i'm gonna have to do what you say because a) i don't want you to die, and b) you called me by name and made me feel like a friend :^]

oh geez i'm gonna ramble but first LET ME ADDRESS THE MEMEFIED CONNOR SITUATION! IT'S NOT MY FAULT, HE'S CANONICALLY JUST LIKE THAT AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL! honestly, i've found him one of the most difficult characters to exaggerate traits from because his baseline is already at a level i find hilarious. sure, he's a bullet-dodging badass but if he didn't manage to dodge one of those bullets and baked beans in tomato sauce spilled out of him, would you be surprised? be honest. that wouldn't even be one of the most batshit things that happens to him. this guy gets shredded by a combine harvester in the middle of urban detroit. he's like some kind of messed up Looney Tunes meets Final Destination character. the offspring of Legolas LOTR and some nightmare clown.

but in regards to my attitude toward my art,

and idk if this makes it better, but i'm very much at peace with making "shit" art. and i'm using inverted commas because i don't believe any art can be shit really, and i do sometimes apply that to my own art too. Mostly, when I call my doodles shitty it's out of self-consciousness, to let you know that I know i've fucked up somewhere with this one. But i still think it was 100% worthwhile to draw anyway!

And i'm beginning to feel less self-conscious about the things i draw these days, because people in this community are really kind. I know my art isn't conventionally skilful, and that's fine! i just want to put characters in scenarios, and my dissatisfaction tends to come from 3 places; it doesn't convey the emotion i want it to, the look of it or the attempt at humour is too embarrassing (it's always gonna be some level of embarrassing), my style is annoying and it will make everyone hate me (insecurities that i only ever apply to my own art btw). if i can avoid these 3 things but the drawing/comic is an absolute mess, it's still a success lol. and i get genuinely choked up when someone says they still like it anyway, I can't even describe how much that means, and how nice it is that any art can be appreciated. i don't mean to sound sickeningly or falsely modest but a few years ago i couldn't have imagined someone sending a message to say they enjoy the stuff i make. it blows my mind and turns me to goo. So, thank you so, so much.

But i know i need to stop with any kind of self-depreciation, because i'm aware it can translate to 'this art looks bad and anyone else who draws like this draws bad too' when every artist (it seems) believes their art is the only bad art in the world and everyone else's is great lmao.

Thank you for the lovely message! you're the best

[denzartriste]

MY FAVOURITES!!!! THEM!!! THEY ARE THE FIRST I DREW AND THE BEST ONES!!

Fundy's text: Fundy (animorpher), still can't control instincts very well, half morphs into a fox at work, Who needs testosterone when you have fur, [notes to myself: This under half+fluff, this bang shape]. Pin saying "this man hates purple."

Purple's text: Purpled (alien), Species physically adapts very quick. Very suited for combat+camouflage, Knife in pocket, Purple parts in hair are antennas, very few of them alive at a time (used to be much more). Skin cannot be broken or harmed - it acts as an armour and can be peeled at knuckles+chest. Dies and is reborn every 5-10 years to strenghen protected skin <- takes a couple of months to fully relearn english. How skin peels - antenna's are not skin and can't be peeled - They can be damaged normally though. [he also has a pin on his bag that says "This bitch loves purple", a joke gift from tommy]

Charlie my BOY I LOVE HIM (Quackity's also here i guess /silly)

Quackity: Quackity (guy), Just some guy, bit of a dumbass, Gets preformative/dramatic when feeling any sort of negative emotion. Hides hair in beanie [note: I'm canadian i say tuque i wrote tuque at first but then i decided to conform pensive face /j] - glass eye+gold teeth -Fancy fucking shoe haver

Charlie: Charlie (guy...?), Mimics people to look more "human" <- the world is his moodboard! Gooby goo! Zoopkeeper mainly. "Normal self", Socks+ sandal inspo from Fundy, Eye accessory from Sam, nose like Foolish's, Hair from Q, Hoodie inspo from Purpled+Fundy. Sad edition (ft. hoodie), Totally real Big Q

Sam's design is so much of a work in progress you dont understand im hindered by the skill im at i cannot draw his body. I just gave him a fucking cloak, anyway-

Sam: Sam (Hork-Bajir), Janitor+Tech guy, former controller (he got better)(and is on the run), Purpled+Fundy think he's currently a controller (previously Foolish too), Eyes on sides of his head, Herbavour, [arrow pointing towards flat teeth] ?maybe, Body/posture, Blade like body (farming scythe specifically), Cloak to hide body, leaning forward on arms, gas mask constantly letting out smoke

Foolish: Foolish (Andalite), Complains about his body - Fundy just thinks he's trans, Doesn't understand fashion but he tries! (Fundy just think's he's trans), Had a book 6 plot w/ Sam, Uses stalk eyes to keep an eye on dangers, About to trip

Pardon me for all the text lmao i just wanted to make sure people understood the notes. Gonna talk more about them in the reblog :]

[kitausuret]

Know Your Venom

A handy guide to differentiating all those spider-y symbols! (Part 1 of 2)

(Venom #150 "Malled!"; Michelinie, Lim)

Hey there, true believer! Are you tired of looking at comics with your favorite black-and-white wicked webslinger and not knowing who's beneath the goo? Fortunately for you, I'm here to help! We'll take a look through the years and hopefully give you some pointers on how to tell who's who. This isn't a foolproof guide by any means, but I hope it's helpful!

So, let's start at the beginning.

(Marvel Super Heroes Secret Wars #7-8; Shooter, Zeck)

It's very important to me that people understand that the original black suit costume came from Spider-Woman (Julia Carpenter)! That's why I often, and will for the rest of this guide, refer to it as the Carpenter Symbol. Know your roots!

For the most part though, we see this design used as a mockery of Spider-Man by the first Venom, Eddie Brock.

(Amazing Spider-Man #299, #331, and #362, by Michelinie and McFarlane, Larsen, and Bagley respectively)

The earliest artists for Venom all drew the Carpenter Symbol very close to how it originally was designed. You see this continued pretty much to this day, and so if you see a stocky guy in this look with biceps the size of his head - that's probably Eddie.

Early comics are easy, because the only other person to bear this symbol is Anne Weying, and her She-Venom look is. Well. Distinctive.

(Venom: Sinner Takes All #3; Hama, Luzniak & Palmiotti - Venom: Along Came a Spider #3; Hama, St. Pierre)

A few artists will draw the legs of the spider-symbol either much, much closer together (sometimes if the shot is tiny enough they'll just look like a solid mass), but others like Ron Lim will at times draw them further apart. For the most part it's pretty consistent though.

(Venom: Lethal Protector [1993] #5; Michelinie, Lim)

And then... we get into the 00s.

(Venom [2003] #16-17; Way, Skottie Young)

The above looks are pretty unique to how Skottie Young does Venom. And even then, Young's Venom nowadays looks less... like that. I'm not going to share a lot from this series, but we start to get a beefier-looking Venom. This would continue into Spectacular Spider-Man (2003) by Paul Jenkins and Humberto Ramos.

(Spectacular Spider-Man (2003) #3, #5; Jenkins, Ramos)

In some ways, you can kind of explain the inconsistency in the symbol by the fact that Eddie and the Symbiote's symbiosis was crumbling - but it's also just. Not that well-written as a Venom story.

And then we get into other hosts.

I feel obligated to point out that Trish Robertson was the first host of the Venom clone that would eventually become Mania - she literally only appears in Venom (2003) but she's almost indistinguishable from Venom.

(Venom [2003] #16; #18. I'm not going to describe what's happening in these panels, I took too much psychic damage just gathering them.)

Best I can give you is; Trish!clone!Venom is slightly more grey-purple and that's all I'm gonna give you on this topic.

Angelo Forunato was only alive for 2 issues, and he has one look:

(Marvel Knights: Spider-Man [2004] #7-8; Millar, Dodson)

He's the first Venom we see fully deviate from the Carpenter Symbol. He also has really distinctive eyespots and the first instance of seeing an actual eyeball in the spot. The legs of the spider-symbol are fully separated from each other, and even extend down to the thighs.

The symbiote, displeased with Angelo (and having thrown him off a roof), next went to Mac Gargan, arguably the third or fourth most important Venom to carry the name.

(Marvel Knights: Spider-Man #10-11; Millar, Dodson)

Beyond! is an interesting case in that it's the first time we see Mac!Venom with the Scorpion tail, which we don't really see again. It's an odd duck of a series overall, but it is kinda fun to see Mac utilizing some of the shapeshifting abilities. But, more to the point of this guide, you can always tell him apart by the white spider-legs going over the shoulders and up the arms.

(Beyond! #5; McDuffie, Kolins)

Thunderbolts is when you really start to see deviations from the original Mac look. This series especially leans into a very grotesque-looking Venom, but usually there's still some semblance of the original symbol. That's what to look for. But if you see a chonky boy and it's in that mid-2000s art style? You're probably looking at Mac.

You also get variations on the way the spider-legs are drawn. Some artists make them a little skinnier.

(Thunderbolts #114; Ellis, Deodato Jr. - Thunderbolts #122; Gage, Blanco - Amazing Spider-Man #570; Slott, Romita Jr.)

Here's where it gets tricky.

During Dark Avengers, Mac adopts the Carpenter Symbol (and a slimmer look) at Osborn's behest, and immediately starts looking anywhere between your classic Black Suit Spider-Man and Eddie's look as Venom. Your best bet during this era is to use context clues. Based on the art style for this era, if you're thinking "that's probably not Eddie", you're right. Eddie's running around as Anti-Venom.

(Dark Avengers [2009] #1; Bendis, Deodato)

And, yes, that means that this scene... is Mac Gargan. No other Venom would let Norman Osborn boss them around. Please, for the love of God, get this one right.

(New Avengers Annual #3; Bendis, Mayhew)

Mac keeps this look all the way up until he and the symbiote are separated, which leads us to...

Flash Thompson, AKA Agent Venom.

(Coming in Part 2!)

[siderealmaven]

2025 Tarotscopes

originally posted to @siderealmaven's Patreon blog

💜 HAPPY NEW YEAR! 💜

Hi, hello my lovely readers and welcome to 2025! Congratulations on making it through another post-covid year (because let’s be honest, things are as hard as they’ve ever been.) 2024 had some great and terrible astrology and 2025 is only going to turn up the heat as Jupiter, Saturn, and the Nodes will all be changing signs. While this can bring some chaotic energy, it’s also a wonderful opportunity for change. The cool thing about being an astrology nerd is that if you know the winds will be shifting, you can adjust your sails accordingly. I won’t bog you down with the all of the details, but I am here to let you know what to expect for the year ahead with some classic Sidereal Maven tarotscopes.

In order to get the most of out these tarotscopes, please read for your Sidereal RISING and MOON sign. If you happen to have a stellium in one sign (3 or more planets, including rising + POF) then you can read for that sign as well. Not sure if you have a stellium? Check out this post.

You can also learn how to calculate your sidereal birth chart here.

Deck used: The Wild Unknown Archetypes Oracle by Kim Krans*

*(I know this is technically an oracle deck but oraclescopes just don't sound as cool!)

♈️ Aries

Card: The Vision

Shuffled Song: The Middle by Jimmy Eat World

Have you ever felt like you were meant to be doing something more with your life? I mean in a making a meaningful impact on the world and making it a better place kind of way? Well that’s because you are, Aries. The first fire sign of the zodiac was always meant to live a life uniquely their own and inspire others to do the same. But what does that Ultimate Dream look like for you? What your vision for yourself and your life? Forget what you have been told is impossible or the voices that whisper you are unworthy of your wild imaginings. These visions come to you for a reason and it is not another’s place to decide if it can happen or to who. In 2025, your job is to clean out whatever is getting in the way of your creative process. That listless, aimless feeling that leads to reckless, impulsive decisions needs to be redirected towards making your life your own again. The next time you feel like you need to act, ask what action will bring your vision closer to reality. Trust that every step, no matter how small, is getting you there. When you’re feeling stuck, think back on what inspired you as a child, what art draws you in over and over again. Here lies the answers you seek.

♉️ Taurus

Card: The Dead End

Shuffled Song: White Noise by PVRIS

Have you ever got the end of a book or movie only to feel like it ended too soon? Now you’re left staring at a blank page or screen, none of your questions answered, overthinking the ending and desperate for more. That’s what the Dead End card is like, Taurus. It doesn’t matter how many times you hit rewind, the ending is going to be the same. Whatever is “ending” in your life this year is a way of seeing and identifying yourself, a way of living and being. Your beliefs, attitudes, and goals are shifting in a way that can feel unplanned and uncontrollable. After all, you’re someone who likes to know what is coming next. Perhaps you’ve planned on this for so long you never considered you’d need a back up plan. Well, you do. In 2025, your mission is to make peace with the Dead End, the path that can be traveled no more, the door that cannot be opened. Yes you can be angry, you can grieve, but don’t stay here. Take time to make sure you’ve understood the lesson and open your eyes to the other paths opening up around you. Whichever one you pick, relief awaits you on the other side.

♊️ Gemini

Card: The Healer

Shuffled Song: All Star by Smash Mouth

No one pulls this card unless they’ve been wounded, Gemini. I’m sorry you’ve been feeling down in 2024, but the bright side is your 2025 is going to be spent focused on your healing. Don’t groan, that’s a good thing! It’s time to rip off the band aid and let that thing air out. I know you’ve read thirty-two articles online about to deal with it and that despite it all, you still feel unsure if you’re truly ever “healed.” If you think healing means looking, feeling and being exactly the same as you were before it happened, then I hate to break it to you. You’re not allowed to go back to levels you’ve already passed through and you have to move on to the next one. That means following your intuition about what is going to make you feel better and trusting yourself to know what you need. The process of healing is less about achieving perfection and more about remembering what good feels like. To do that you will have to look within and get some fresh air (so get off the internet!)

♋️ Cancer

Card: The Heart

Shuffled Song: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun by Cyndie Lauper

When was the last time you felt your heart touched, Cancer? Perhaps it was while listening to a certain song or the laugh of your favorite person. Maybe it’s mid brush stroke while painting or that one scene from that one movie? You know the one. I’m talking about the kind of genuine, spontaneous love that shoots you right in the chest and makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Your mission in 2025 is to remember and reclaim this feeling. This requires looking past your frustrations at daily life and underneath the grief that seems to creep up on you at night. There are always going to be things to be upset about, to grieve and scream about. And I’m not saying you shouldn’t… but I am saying, you have to balance that out with something soft. Something silly and lighthearted. There needs to be routine, fool proof ways to re-energize yourself in your life. What can you do every day to make yourself smile? Prioritize it! You don’t just deserve it, you need it.

♌️ Leo

Card: The Judge

Shuffled Song: Everybody Wants To Rule The World by Tears For Fears

Have you ever felt yourself being judged, Leo? Of course you have, we all have. But at what age did you realize that your biggest critic was the voice inside your own head? Have you noticed the way it sometimes leaks out of your own mouth and begins to judge others too? It might feel automatic, predestined, happening before you can stop yourself and then all the sudden you watch the word “respect” crumble before your eyes. The thing you work so hard to earn and keep. In 2025, your mission is to get to the bottom of this voice and determine: who’s voice is that? Is it one or multiple? And was it ever truly you? Think about how every time you’re about to break a rule, you hear your parent’s voice in your heard warning of the consequences. That’s not your voice, it’s theirs. The next time you find yourself judging yourself or others, stop to ask: who’s voice is that? Do I believe this enough to repeat it? Is it your belief or theirs? And if it truly does belong to you then think carefully about how you voice your opinion, to who, and in what context. Your words carry the strength of a lion and they will be felt. Make your voice one of discernment, advocacy and compassion.

♍️ Virgo

Card: The Ring

Shuffled Song: Crimson and Clover by Joan Jett & The Blackhearts

When’s the last time you grounded yourself, Virgo? It’s easy to become disconnected from ourselves between the work that calls us, the work that demands we show up, and the constant cycle of daily routines. Despite knowing you need something more satisfying, you’ve probably spent all of December planning out your 2025 down to the last detail. While I admire your ambition, I have to wonder, did you schedule out some time for connection? For visiting with family, hanging out with friends, for nature walks and your neglected hobbies? Probably not. Your mission in 2025 is to make connecting a priority. You get to choose how and who; friends, family, teammates and community members, even the earth, even yourself. But you have get out of your head, out of your calendar and out of your phone. Otherwise, you risk staying in the cyclical montage training scene that is only supposed last a few moments before the daring protagonist sets out on their quest. So go head, buy yourself some new shoes and get outside! Adventure is waiting.

♎️ Libra

Card: The Box

Shuffled Song: No Wind Resistance! by Kinneret

Do you ever feel like the walls are closing in on you, Libra? From the expectations of others, to the social constructs that dictate what is and isn’t allowed, to the rule of law that sits ominously over our shoulders, it might feel like “breathing room” is just a myth. Perhaps you’ve gotten comfortable with the walls that have been drawn around you year after year, maybe even erected a few of your own. But in 2025, the dissatisfaction that comes with stagnancy could turn into some serious zoochosis. At some point, structure and order fails to meet our needs and continuing to conform to it puts us at risk. This year, your mission is to break free of the box that you’re in. This isn’t easy; you will have to come into new levels of self-awareness and have the courage to face the mirror. You might even find that some of the limitations that have been holding you back are self-imposed. As frustrating as it can be, try not to be too angry at yourself. The box that restrains you now once kept you safe.

♏️ Scorpio

Card: The Bardo

Shuffled Song: The First Cut Is The Deepest by Sheryl Crow

Just when you think that all has come to an end, a light appears in the dark. Ever so slowly it grows into a glowing beam of truth, enveloping you in divine truth. You have entered Limbo, Scorpio. It’s that liminal space between one life and the next. The version of you that has passed and the one that is slowly becoming. Whether you’re grieving the path that just dead ended or frustrated over how long it’s taking to jump into the next thing, 2025 is all about learning to embody the inbetween. On the surface this period of time may feel like it’s full of nothing but shadow, but you must dig beneath the surface of your grief and listen carefully. Right now, you have just the right amount of distance from what has happened to see it and yourself more clearly than ever before. This puts you in a wonderful position to decide where you’re going next. To forgive yourself, to love yourself, to heal the wounds left behind. Pay close attention to intuitive messages you receive during this time and allow them to gestate without needing to act immediately. You’ll know when you’re ready to move forward.

♐️ Sagittarius

Card: The Father

Shuffled Song: Ignorance by Paramore

What does it mean to be a good father, Sagittarius? Ideally, a father is supportive, wise and honest. He leads by example and nurtures a healthy self esteem in his offspring. He is a protector and guardian to his family. But as we know all too well, every father, no matter how good or ideal, whether by choice or by nature, eventually abandons us. We must all grow up and learn how to lead ourselves, which is impossible in his presence. Your mission in 2025 Sagittarius, is to stop letting the wins and failures of your father(s) define you and what you believe is possible for your life. Instead of internalizing the limitations of those who came before you, understand that recognizing these limitations is the first step to overcoming them. Regardless of your relationship to your father(s), they gave you what you need to succeed and surpass them. Ancestral wisdom is available to you at all times when you’re willing to learn from others. And remember; even their absence holds a lesson.

♑️ Capricorn

Card: The Crone

Shuffled Song: Gooey by Glass Animals

The entire world is on fire, but it doesn’t phase you, does it Capricorn? You were the first to point it out and the last to learn how to ignore it, because there was no changing a world determined to burn itself down. “It is what it is,” becomes your go-to motto in these trying times. While refusing to assign moral judgements to things and minding your business can be effective strategies, you need to be careful of allowing your jaded attitudes to ostracize you from your community. Your wisdom should be used to help and guide, not withheld out of bitterness or spat in frustration with a side of condescension. Your mission in 2025 is to learn how to embody the role of the Elder; this requires you to stay connected to the part of yourself that believes in the youth and their ability to create a better world, when armed with the right knowledge and tools. Use your experience as a means of preparing them for what comes next, not tearing them down. And most importantly; keep your compassion alive.

♒️ Aquarius

Card: The Self

Shuffled Song: I Got You Babe by Sonny & Cher

How well would you say you know yourself, Aquarius? There are the assigned identifiers of course; gender, sex, race, class, ethnicity, etc. There are the roles you play: child, parent, sibling, friend, employee, coworker, etc. Then there are the labels for what you do; job description, hobbies, and such. There are the things you like; movies, books, songs. But what about the You underneath all of that? I’m talking about the self you are when no one else is around and there are no expectations for you to be anything. Your mission in 2025 is to get close and intimate with your deepest, most authentic self. The great news is that you just spent this last Saturn cycle learning all about what is NOT you, but the bad news is it might have left you feeling tired and lacking purpose. When feeling overwhelmed by the world and everything it wants you to be, retreat into yourself and ask: What do you want? What makes you happy? And how can you choose it as if no one else will see?

♓️ Pisces

Card: The Maiden

Shuffled Song: But Daddy I Love Him by Taylor Swift

Do you remember your first love, Pisces? Back when you were too young to anticipate heartbreak and every longing glance held untapped potential. Some say that first loves are the only true loves, as one can never open their heart again the same way after it’s been broken. And yet, we can and do learn to love again, over and over. Your mission in 2025 is to fall in love as if it was the first time for the second time, but first you’re going to have to admit that you want it and get over your fear of trusting again. Recognize the moments in which you choose to daydream instead of connect, when you choose to pretend instead of act. How you might try to deny instead of live in the truth of your desire and past hurts. When you feel like running, ask a question instead. When you don’t feel good enough, remember you are inherently worthy. And when you start to feel too old to feel young again, remember your inner child lives within you always. (And they’re begging to be let out!)

Thank you for reading! I wish you many blessings in 2025 💜

[impala-dreamer]

His Return

A Supernatural Story

~Walking alone at night can be deadly.~

Vampire!Dean Winchester x Reader

1,780 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Major Character Death, Vampirism. 

A/N: First published to Patreon July 2022. See what you're missing?

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works  

The night is cold. Steely wind nips at your cheeks and you draw your coat a little tighter across your chest. Moonlight leads you home, beaming down through the haze of midnight and you free it from oil-slicked puddles as you walk down the alley.

You’ve walked this way a thousand times before, but tonight it feels different- there’s something lurking in the corner of your vision, some hidden danger that sturs your senses and makes every hair stand on end.

A flutter of wings catches your ear and you turn with a gasp; just a pigeon fleeing the dumpster. You laugh at yourself and continue on; there’s work to be done tomorrow and not much more time for sleep.

Another noise strikes your attention and you spin again, nerves on edge, mind reeling with illogical fears. It’s the heavy footfall of a boot, familiar yet unscheduled, but when you turn, there’s nothing behind you except the night.

“Stop being such a pussy, Y/N,” you laugh at yourself, turning back to face the shadows and your shortcut home.

One step and you’re slamming into solid muscle.

“Holy shit!” you scream and try to run, but a hand clamps down around your elbow and holds you steady. The grip is strong and cold, and you look up with fear in your heart.

Green eyes sparkle in the moonlight.

“Dean?”

A soft smile curls his plump lips. “Heya, Y/N/N.”

It’s been forever since you last saw the hunter; a few years in fact. He’d been the only one to believe you when you ranted to the police about how a monster had taken your little sister. Sure enough, by week’s end, you were standing hip to hip with the strange fake Fed, covered in blackish goo and sharing a victory kiss beneath the stars.

He left before dawn that night, speeding away in his giant black boat of a car. To see him returned was both welcomed and jarring. Something had to be amiss.

“Holy crap- you scared the shit out of me!”

His hold on your elbow vanishes and he stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets. He dips his chin and looks at you through perfectly thick lashes. “Sorry about that.” He smiles and your heart melts a bit, remembering what those lips could do. “I saw you walkin’ alone and thought- well… You really shouldn’t be walking alone this late at night, Y/N.”

A laugh tickles your throat. “I’ve done a lot worse. As you remember.”

He laughs with you at that, a little chuckle that lifts his broad shoulders. “That I do. But still- it’s… dangerous out here.”

Reaching into your bag, you pull up your secret weapon. “I’ve got pepper spray and a mean right hook.”

Dean looks away and back; a slick smile tugging on his lips as he wipes a hand down his cheek. “Oh, that I remember well.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that…”

His eyes flash over your face and your breath catches in your throat. “Don’t be. I was impressed.”

Pride swell in your gut but something’s still wrong. “Why are you here?” you blurt out, staring up at him as if he’s some ghost from the past, and well, he is. “I mean- it’s nice to see you but-”

“Seeing me is like a bad omen, huh?”

He looks away and you feel bad. “Not like that, but- kinda? I mean- you only show up when monsters are lurking.”

Dean lets out a deep laugh as if he can’t help it and his green eyes turn back to dig into yours. “Monsters…” He sighs heavily and shakes his head. “I don’t know about that.” He licks his lips slowly and your mind is shoved back in time, right back into the backseat of that damned Impala. “Anyway- why don’t we get you off the streets, huh?”

“Do I remind you of a working girl, Mr. Winchester?”

He smiles and you swear he’s trying to kill you with it. “You know what I mean.” He crooks his elbow and holds it out for you. “If I remember correctly, your apartment isn’t far-”

“Correct.” Your hand slides a bit too easily onto his arm, fitting perfectly in the hollow of his elbow.

You turn together and head into the shadows, not caring about the puddles underfoot or the cold wind attacking your cheeks. Dean seems to shield you from more than just the wind- you feel safe in his arms, careless and free.

“So, just passing through town?”

He nods, looking straight ahead. “Something like that.”

“Sam with you?”

He isn’t revealing much, hiding all behind a soft smile that crinkles around his eyes and turns your mind to mush. “No. Sam’s- not with me.”

“Oh well. I hope he’s doing OK…”

“I don’t wanna talk about Sam.” Dean stops at the foot of your stairs, memory guiding him straight to your building. He grabs your hand and you spin with him, falling against his chest as he tugs you close. “Do you?”

Staring up at him, you lose all sense of time and space and it’s just like it was a few years ago. He’s strong and tall, mysterious and beautiful; a hero there to guide you back to the light.

“Ya know,” you whisper, pushing up on your toes to try to reach his lips. “I really couldn’t care less.”

Dean dips his chin and brings his lips close, hovering there, giving you the option to pull away. With a smile, you do the opposite, pushing in and kissing him hard.

He exhales against your cheek, tips his head to the side, parts his lips. His tongue juts out, swiping over your bottom lip and you hum at the memory of it. His left hand finds the nape of your neck and he holds you there with freezing fingers that seer into your flesh.

Pulling back, you’re stunned to find his eyes open and focused; every ounce of his attention on you.

“Do you- wanna come up?” you ask, surprising only yourself. Dean seems to know you’d offer, waiting patiently for you to catch up.

“I’d love to.”

He follows closely up the three flights of stairs and you rack your brain to try to remember what panties you have on; if it’s the lacy bra or the junky one.

Your breath is fast with climbing and nerves when you finally reach your door, but Dean is steady, appearing behind you almost too quickly.

“The- the place is kinda messy. Sorry. Wasn’t expecting- um… you.”

Dean swallows visibly, his upper lip twitching as you push open the door. “Don’t worry about it.”

His tone has changed slightly; the feel of him ass well. Gone are the familiar shy smiles, the feeling of being wooed. He seems stiff, focused.

He stands back as you step inside.

“Well,” you laugh, watching him hover in the doorway. “Come in.”

His boot is hesitant to step over the threshold, but he does and he breaths in the room, scanning the apartment quickly.

“Nice place.”

The door shuts and locks behind you.

“Thanks. As I said, usually not so messy-”

Dean holds up a hand and waves you off. “It’s great.” He spins on his heel and soon you’re back in his arms, cradled delicately against his chest. “Just like- you…”

A smile bubbles up from deep inside and your cheeks burn. “Dean- did you come back here just for me?”

His fingers tangle in your hair and he tugs, lifting your shy eyes to his. “And if I said yes?”

Your answer is a kiss that closes your eyes and makes him moan. You lean closer, pressing yourself against him. Hips and chest and thighs all crashing together as you give yourself over to him with a push of your lips.

He responds instantly. The hand in your hair tightens, the other digs into your lower back, locking you to him.

It’s a mad rush to the bedroom; so hard to walk and shed clothing between maddening kisses.

He lays you down, drags his calloused fingers down your naked body, teasing and pinching and driving you wild. His name falls from your lips in desperate moans as he licks at your skin; plump lips planting bruises from throat to hip. He’s feverish- grasping at every inch of you like you’re water in the desert.

“Need you,” he whispers, throat dry and torn.

You push a hand through his hair and bite your lip. “All yours…”

He presses inside, spreading your thighs wide with his hips. The stretch is deep and exquisite and you toss your head back against the mattress, savouring every inch of him as your body tightens.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.”

He stares, eyes hard and wild. Still thrusting slowly, Dean drops down, covering your body with his. The crush is heavy, knocks the breath from your lungs. A big hand wraps beneath you, a cool hand covers the nape of your neck. Fingers, long and deft, lock around your jaw from beneath and turn your head to the side.

You gasp, struggling to breathe beneath his weight as pleasure and fear collide in your chest.

“Dean-”

“Be still,” he growls, lips tickling your ear. He pulls back for a moment and the corner of your eye tricks your vision. He bares his teeth; tiny fangs dropping like magic before he attacks, sinking them deep into your throat.

Your heart pounds, pumping blood to meet the heavy pull of his beautiful lips.

“Dean!” You claw at his shoulders, strangled and desperate to be released.

The pull is strong and the room starts to spin.

He thrusts harder, moaning loudly as he drains the life from your veins and nears his climax.

The numbness starts in your fingertips, works its way up your arms; the muscles protest and relax, leaving you limp and empty beneath him.

“So fucking perfect,” he groans, swallowing the last drop just as he cums. His timing is perfection and he cries out in ecstasy; his entire body vibrating with your blood and his pleasure. “Just like I thought you’d be.”

He doesn’t bother to clean up, just drags his jeans up his thick thighs and tugs on his layers of flannel and canvas.

“Another fun stop on the Dean Winchester Memory Tour.” He laughs at his mess: your arm is bent wrong; your legs are forever open and your cunt leaks with his cum.

He kisses your forhead before he leaves and your eyes stare into the shadows.

“I told you it was dangerous to be walking alone…”

He doesn’t bother to shut the door behind him.

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