#I HAD to draw this it’s been stuck on my brain ever since I first saw them

[latteandjacks]

What a good old married couple

Ocs belong to @sm-baby, I really like the Seven evil clones series!

[jays-bonnie-on-the-side]

RELAX

PAIRING : stanford!sam winchester x fem!reader

SUMMARY : reader is stressed from studying for her upcoming final and sam helps her relax

WARNINGS : fluff. smut. oral (fem. receiving). fingering. rough sex. unprotected p in v. creampie. strong language.

REQUESTED BY @s4wdvator : "I would love a Sam Winchester fic, I love him, I'm a total Sam girl who also loves Dean hejehjhehe. It would be a Stanford thing!Sam dating Fem!Reader, it could be smutt or fluff!!"

A/N : this was requested by a fellow mutual of mine (sorry it took so long.) hopefully it's similar to what you had in mind, if not, hope you enjoy it anyway! my requests are currently on hold since i have so many ideas of my own that i still need to write, but it'll be open in the future, i promise. this is my first sam oneshot ever, hope you guys enjoy it!

For the past week, you went to class and then straight home. You had a huge test coming up that counted for half your grade. If you failed, you could kiss your scholarship goodbye. So, for the weekend, you decided to turn your distracting phone off so you could study. And it seemed to work... until it didn't.

The room had been eerily silent as you read. You were so concentrated on the material before you that a loud knock made you jump in freight. After a beat or two, your heart calms. With a groan, you push the chair away from the desk and walk to the door. Sam stands before you, a worried expression on his face.

"Y/N," He huffs. "Are you all right? I've been calling and texting you!"

You sigh, moving out of the doorway to let him in. "'Sorry. I've been studying."

He walks in, and you close the door behind him. "Your head's been buried in that book for a week. You need to take a break."

You sit on your bed, replying, "I can't. If I fail, I won't be able to afford to keep going here. Then how will we be together?"

"Hey," Sam sits beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Don't talk like that. You're the most intelligent girl I know. You'll pass the test."

You stand up, facing him as you rant. "But what if I don't? What if I have to leave and—"

"You're not going to leave." He interrupts your spiraling, knowing if he didn't stop it now, you wouldn't stop. "You're going to pass. Then you'll be stuck with me."

A giggle slips past your lips. You could always count on your boyfriend to lighten your mood. A smirk takes over his beautiful face, his gaze shifting from your eyes to your lips.

Sam leans in closer and says, "Take a break. Let me help you relax."

You hesitate for a moment, afraid if you give in, you won't be able to study afterward. "I don't know..."

"I'll quiz you after." He entices.

"Mm... alright."

Sam gets up from the mattress and sheds his jacket. Tossing it aside, he tells you to lay on your belly. Without question, you do as he says. You stretch across your bed, head tilted towards the wall, eyes closed, as you slowly inhale. The bed dips as Sam climbs on before sitting on your ass. His large and magical hands grip your tense shoulders. You exhale in euphoria as his fingers dig into your muscles just right.

Tingling sensations rid the worry from your body. Your teeth sink into your lip, trying to suppress moans. Part of you didn't want to admit how much you needed this. His hands travel below your shoulder blades, toward the middle of your back. He works your back exactly how you need it, causing breathy groans to slip past your lips. It continues for a few minutes, and you're in another world.

Your brain becomes unaware of Sam sliding off and kneeling between your thighs. His hands begin to massage your behind, quickly drawing your attention. Part of you knew you should stop him, but the other didn't want to. Instead, you let his hands slither under your loose-fitted shorts and focus on your ass. His thumbs massage closer and closer to your lips, occasionally brushing against them.

It was all you could think about. You need him. You craved Sam's long and slender fingers inside you. The more he teased, the wetter your pussy got. You open your legs wider, giving him access like any other time.

A whimper falls from your mouth as your boyfriend gently rubs over your slick entrance. Wetness lubricates his thumbs, and before you beg him to, he slides them in. You gasped, but just as fast as they were in, they were out. He brings his fore and middle fingers to your entrance before gliding your slick towards your clit.

He rubs your bundle of nerves a few times, only making you wetter. The moans held back were now audible. His fingers slide back to your core, and without missing a beat, he plunges them in. Your body tenses as he dives deep, the tips of his long fingers hitting your cervix. A pained yet pleasurable moan echoes in the small room.

You were so thankful your roommate decided to go out. Sam slowly draws his fingers in and out. Once they're covered in your wetness, they disappear from your core. You open your eyes and look over your shoulder, missing his touch. The sight you saw somehow made you wetter. He had his fingers in his mouth, his cheeks hollowing around his digits, sucking them clean.

He slowly pulls them out, and you watch with admiration. Sam flips you on your back, granting you a better view. He pulls your underwear down, leaving you in the oversized shift you stole from him. He tosses them off the bed and gives you a mischievous smirk. His head dips between your thighs, and your hand quickly grabs his hair.

His mouth closes around your clit, sucking hard enough to make your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your walls clench around nothing, making you miss his fingers. As if he read your mind, he fills you with his slender digits. He steadily increases his speed until he reaches the pace that makes your toes curl and your back arch. Your grip on his hair tightens as his teeth graze and lightly bite your clit before soothing it with his tongue.

The pressure in your belly quickly builds, threatening to burst. You force your vision to focus right on your boyfriend. As if he sensed your stare, he gazes up at you, a smirk upon his lips. You throw your head back as he harshly sucks on your sensitive nub. His knuckles pound against your skin, leaving bruises where your pussy ends and your legs begin. It all became too much, and before you knew it, you came on his fingers.

Without missing a beat, Sam removes his fingers and drags his tongue across your soaked entrance, licking between each fold to get every last drop. Once he finishes, he sits up and unbuckles his belt. As relaxed as you feel, you wouldn't mind a good fucking. He unzips and pulls his pants to his knees. You dampen and bite your bottom lip as his member springs free.

There were several reasons why you fell in love with Sam, and his dick was one of them. You'd never objectify him, but if others understood what hid beneath his boxers, they'd try harder to steal him away. The first time you'd seen it, you wondered how he planned to fit his entire cock inside you. It took a few tries before you could finally take him all in, and man, was it worth it. You hated to admit it, but he had you dick-whipped.

"Like what you see?"

"Mhm. Now, shut up and fuck me," You demand before pulling his neck down and connecting your lips with his.

You could taste your sweet juice on his tongue. The thought of you tasting your cum on another man's lips repulsed you, but on Sam's, it only fed your lust. He presses his body against yours, his tip tracing your inner thigh. You moan into his mouth, practically begging for more. Sam breaks the kiss but remains close enough that his breath fans across your lips as he speaks.

"You ready for me?" You nod eagerly. He reaches between your legs, aligning his long member with your entrance. With eyes closed, you anticipate the slight but brief pain that'll come with his penetration. He holds down your hip with his left hand, feeling how tense you are before whispering, "Relax."

That's exactly what you did. Or at least tried to, anyway. You take a few deep breaths, willing your mind and heart rate to slow. Once Sam feels your body loosen, he pushes himself into your tight cunt. You whimper as his dick stretches your walls, both pleasure and pain fighting for dominance. He fits half of his appendage before pulling out. With every thrust, he goes deeper and deeper until his entire cock fits inside your small hole. Soon, the pleasure had won.

You were a moaning mess underneath your boyfriend. His hips moved skillfully, pushing you towards the edge. You clutch his shirt, hanging on for dear life as he rails into you at a hard and fast pace. The tip of his member brushes against your cervix when you wrap your legs around his torso, giving him a deeper angle. The sounds of skin clapping and your bed creaking to the rhythm of each thrust fill the quiet room.

He dips his head, finding comfort in your neck. Sam nibbles at your skin before sucking harshly, leaving a mark. You try arching your back, but his weight won't let you. Tears pool in your eyes as the pleasure becomes overwhelming. His hand snakes between your bodies, and his thumb rubs your sensitive clit. It was enough for your tears to spill over. You feel the familiar rush and warn Sam.

"Ohmygod, baby, I'mgonnacum," You mumble quickly.

"Let it go, sweetheart."

With his permission, you came undone. You scream as the waves wash over your body. Sam helps you ride out your orgasm, somehow going even harder. Your eyes roll back, and your mouth forms an 'O' as he murders your soaked pussy. It was pure luck you liked it hard and fast like he does.

You knew from experience your lips would be swollen after this, and hell if you didn't consider it a trophy. Suddenly, Sam's thrusts stopped, and you knew what that meant. He was cumming. And sure enough, spurts of hot cum shoot into you as he grunts into your ear. You moan as he fills you up, making you feel full in a different but great way.

He kisses his way to your mouth and shoves his tongue down your throat. You run your fingers through his hair as your body warms up for round 2. After your legs drop to the mattress and shake, you decide to wait a little longer before taking that rollercoaster ride again. Sam pulls away, so you open your eyes and see him gazing lovingly at you. A smile pulls at your lips to match his.

"Are you relaxed?"

You couldn't help but chuckle and answer, "I'm so relaxed."

"Good," He gives you a quick peck. "I should help you relax more often."

"Well, I'll be studying until next Thursday."

"Mm..." Sam traces his lips along your face, tickling your skin. "Sounds good to me."

He kisses your shoulder before pulling out of your dripping cunt and getting up from the bed. You prop yourself on one shoulder as you wonder what he was doing. He pulls on his boxers and walks toward your desk. Your eyebrows furrow as he picks up your textbook. And true to his word, he began quizzing you.

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[gimme-a-man-after-midnight]

my royal roomie (part 2)

Fandom: Aquaman

Pairing: Orm Marius x Reader

part 1:

https://www.tumblr.com/gimme-a-man-after-midnight/693273500438429696/my-royal-roomie-pt-1?source=share

Summary: After a few days of living under your roof, Orm gets to know the little surface dweller he's been stuck with. With time, a stormy night, and a bottle of wine, the prince learns that he has more in common with you than he may think.

Word Count: 4,000+

Warnings: female reader, slow burn, light cursing, mentions of past emotional abuse, divorced parents!reader, dead parent, comic lore inaccuracies, floral inaccuracies??

Author's Note:

hi y'all! here's the full part 2 i've been working on for some time! thanks for the support on the last one and again, so sorry for the late continuation :/ i hope this story is to your liking! happy reading!

After the first one-on-one conversation you had in the living room, Orm didn't come out of the guest bedroom for days. You’d see flashes of platinum blonde out of the corner of your eye, just barely missing him by a few seconds whenever you’d be in the kitchen or outside of his door. You had made many offers through the red painted oak of his room to go grocery shopping together or take him on a tour of the town, but all of your efforts were met with a stern "No thank you." You had lost any hope you had of forming some kind of connection with the Atlantean for a while, cutting your losses by quietly resigning to a parallel existence. What you didn’t expect was the mutual understanding you two would come to on one fateful stormy Friday night, much like the one that brought him to your doorstep.

***

 Heavy traffic from the drive home, a full message inbox on your telephone, and the burnt attempt at roast chicken sitting on your oven rack had you nursing a glass bottle of wine by the living room window. Bad days were normal for anybody, but it didn’t make them easier to deal with on your own - the added stress of the stranger living in your space didn’t help either. You had been living a quiet life ever since you moved back to the sleepy town some years ago, taking up very little space and leaving minimal traces of yourself. Whether it was out of caution or cowardice, you weren’t sure yet. Either way, that silence had brought you comfort at a time where your thoughts were too loud, but now with another person occupying your space the quiet was becoming suffocating. 

Orm wasn’t by any means a bad roommate - he kept to himself, he didn’t make much noise, and he even managed to wash his dishes whenever he knew you weren’t in the kitchen - but he was a man.The last time you had lived with a man, the end of its course felt similar to how you two were living now, and maybe that’s why it was bothering you so much. Tip-toeing around the Atlantean made you feel uneasy in your own home, a situation you were all too familiar with. Typically at this time in the night you would be cooking up some plan to urge the man out of his guest room, but after the day you had, you didn’t have the heart to try. 

Once you took your final gulp of wine, wiping at the sides of your mouth with the back of your hand, you trudged away from the raging display outside of your window. The dishes could be a tomorrow problem, you thought to yourself as you were leaving your kitchen counter behind. You had only made it a few paces out of the living room before your body was overcome with chills, making you draw your blanket tighter around you. The draft through the house was unmistakable, confusing you thoroughly due to you always making sure the doors and windows were shut before bed. As you stepped deeper into the house, you realized the distinct breeze was coming from the direction of the guest bedroom. You had made it a point to allow Orm his space, but your brain was stirring with reasons for what he could possibly be doing in there  - most of them unsavory. 

With a deep breath and a tight fist holding your blanket, you gently rapped at the door. 

“Hey, Orm?”

No response. You knock again.

“I don’t mean to bother, but I’m feeling a bit of a breeze through the house and I can tell it’s coming from here, so I just want to see if everything is alri-”

The door suddenly opened a crack, revealing half of Orm’s face which was already more than you had seen in days. 

“If you don’t mean to bother, then don’t.”

The curt response, although expected, has you taken aback. Already seeing the Atlantean retreat from the spot again, you hold the door in its place in effort to keep his attention.

“Look, I know you wanna be alone, but I can’t help wondering why a cold ass breeze is coming from your room, so I just want to see what’s going on. Please, it’s freezing right now.” You do your best to keep control of your tone, not wanting to let on just how much the cold was getting to you - giving the prince another reason to look down on humans wasn’t on your agenda for the night.

 Almost as if he commanded the storm, the lightning cracked loudly outside as Orm swung his door open, revealing his full disheveled state to you. You jolted in place, practically leaping a step back in defense at the swift move.

“What’s going on is the stench of your burnt dinner was practically singeing my nostrils. I opened a window in hopes that I could find some relief, because clearly you surface dwellers have no trouble polluting not only the ocean, but your precious breathing air as well! I have little care for how cold your fragile body may get, so I suggest you retire to your room at once and leave me be.”  

There was a gap in the yelling match conversation, almost as if the blond was waiting for you to bite back at his harsh words, but the glazed look in your eyes and parted lips made it evident to the Atlantean that your mind was elsewhere. Orm followed your gaze, noticing that it was locked onto the maroon sweater he was adorning, looking at it with equal parts surprise and melancholy. His enhanced hearing picked up on a hitch in your breath and chattering of your teeth, confirming to him that you were clearly shaken.

After the long silence, you mousily spoke.

“I didn’t leave that sweater out for you.” 

 The arbitrary words silenced Orm, his expression turning to one of confusion as he looked down at the knit fabric on his chest.

“...where did you find it?” 

Your voice didn’t change in volume when you made your inquiry, but your tone was somber. The candid emotion made the Atlantean clear his throat awkwardly, unsure of how to handle such vulnerability from his host. You couldn’t even fully appreciate how much messier Orm looked in comparison to when he first arrived - looking like a 90s wet dream with his ungelled hair, clenched jaw, and broad shoulders peeking out of his loose fitting clothes. No, it was the clothes that were holding your attention hostage.

“It was deep in the wooden wardrobe of my room…the garb you set out for me wasn’t suitable for the storm,” Orm says, arms crossed in a defensive manner as he anticipates your response.

A part of you wanted to laugh at his retort, the corner of your lips quirking up for a millisecond before melting back into the numb expression you had prior. 

“Are you going to ask me to change? Because I don’t see why I should relent,” the blond goads, pulling a haughty expression that comes all too naturally.

Orm wasn’t sure himself why he wanted to urge a response from you - why he wanted to learn more about this sweater that was clearly jumbling up your thoughts enough to render you so silent. He tried to chalk it up to plain boredom, tried to reason with himself that all his time in self-isolation was making him yearn for more. Still, even with those excuses lined up to justify his actions, he couldn’t explain why seeing the down-turned expression on your lips felt so unnerving. This woman in front of him now was like a shell in comparison to the buoyant, eccentric character he had been previously introduced to - and for some bizarre reason he didn’t like it. 

Your thought process, on the other hand, was going in a completely different route. The glaringly red knit in your line of sight brought back too many memories that you had made efforts to bury. The cursed sweater in combination with the Atlantean prince’s snark makes your breath quicken and your mind wander to the whisper of a past life that still takes up space in your home. You couldn’t decipher if your shivering was coming from Orm’s open window or from your body trying to eject all of the feelings evoked from seeing that damn sweater.

“I-I…you…you shouldn’t-” you shakily exhale, your eyes surveying around your surroundings to try and focus on literally anything else. You backstep, hoping that physically running away from the situation will do you good, but your eyes lining up with the red-clad chest and the sound of the booming thunder makes you falter. Your hand clutches at your chest, the white knuckled grip on your blanket alerting your roommate.

The prince's body calls to action, making Orm take an instinctive step forward, reaching out as if to try and steady you. 

“What is happening with you? Why are you so high-strung? Do humans go into cardiac arrest so easily?” 

You couldn’t hear his stern questioning, your mind flitting to images of firm fists slammed against tables and nights spent alone, buried deep under your covers in the hopes of being swallowed by the sheets. It was like the space in your lungs was being taken up by a vice grip, and your ability to think - to form a simple thought that didn’t make your heart hurt - was completely ripped away from you. Even after four years, the memories of him still have so much power over you in a way that’s paralyzing.

“I-I just - I need - I need to breathe!”

With that final exclamation, you scurried away from the Atlantean, quickly making it back to your room before slamming the door shut behind you. Orm was left stunned outside of his door, his eyes trained in the direction of your room down the hall. 

What the hell just happened?

***

Arthur was done - so done.

The newly crowned Atlantean king had so much on his plate already, what with his upcoming engagement underway and him having an entire kingdom to look after. While he did appreciate his little brother feeling comfortable enough to call him at such an ungodly hour, the words the blond uttered made him want to pull his hair out. 

“I think I broke her - your human.”

“Bro, what?”

It was too fucking early for this. 

“Don’t call me - agh, nevermind - something’s wrong with your human and I’m not sure how to approach the situation. Is this really an environment you believe me to find enrichment from? My host is clearly on the brink of some sort of breakdown and I-”

“Wow, I never took you for someone that was so easily shaken, brother.”

Arthur’s poorly timed quip makes Orm stare back at the projection call with a blank face.

“First off, she’s not my human, she’s her own person. Second, what did you even do? She’s not one to just collapse on her own - although she is a serial overthinker and could definitely talk herself to an early grave...”

Orm, frustrated with his half-brother’s lack of support, rolls his eyes over the call.

“Okay, okay, but seriously. Something must’ve set her off or triggered her to react in a way. You sure you didn’t do anything?” 

“All I did was answer the door when she knocked. When she saw me at the entrance, she saw the sweater I was wearing and was overcome with emotion. That’s hardly my fault.”

Orm can see Arthur’s brows furrow in thought at the information, almost as if he’s assessing whether he’s been given the whole story or not.

“Well…where’d you get the sweater?”

“I hardly think that matters-”

“Just answer the question, bro-”

An exasperated grunt leaves Orm as he grips at the sheets beneath him in an attempt to contain himself. A part of him regretted bringing up the matter at all, communication with his half-brother being much too awkward to bear. 

“I got it from the wooden wardrobe inside of my chambers! It was much more practical to wear than the flimsy garb-”

“Shit,” Arthur cuts him off, the hologram shifting as the man rubs at his eyes. “The wooden wardrobe with vines on the sides?”

It was Orm’s turn to be taken aback, unsure of how he knew the detail from off the top of his head.

“Yes, that’s the one.”

A muffled sigh comes from Arthur’s end, the image changing again as the king shuffles out of bed quietly to not disturb a sleeping Mera.

“Listen, dude. It’s not my place to speak on her business like this, but all I can say is that the wardrobe - that room - holds a lot of memories that are painful for her. I know you didn’t mean to bring them up, but that wardrobe is off limits. Just try and apologize for now, but don’t pry.”

“But why should I-”

“Orm, seriously! I get it, you don’t like being there - that you’ve spent every day in your room ever since I dropped you off, but she’s been trying. She’s been doing everything she can to get you out of your shell and you’re not giving back anything. There has to be some give here, and that can start with you saying sorry.” 

Orm was surprised by the fact that Arthur knew of his daily whereabouts already, undoubtedly asking you for updates on him. However, what surprised him the most was that even though you have seemingly complained to his half brother, you never once suggested kicking him out - never demanded he leave your house and have Atlantis deal with him. You truly were a peculiar little thing. 

“...fine. But don’t expect me to continue such niceties with her.”

A belly laugh could be heard from over the call, surely out of amusement for the prince's unwavering coldness.

“Good. Now hang up, you disrupted my beauty sleep.”

With a scoff, Orm presses on the green gem of his wristlet and heads off to the direction of your room.

***

When Orm knocks on your door, he expects a big fuss - bouts of yelling, arguing, or cursing that’ll leave his highly sensitive ears ringing. What he doesn’t expect is everyone of his knocks being met with silence - deafening silence now that the storm has subsided. 

“Hello?”

The prince feels weirdly small waiting by your door for your answer, having no clue what he’ll be met with on the other side of him. (It also gives him some insight on how you must feel every time you knock on his door to chat, although he’d never admit to having similarities with you,)

“Are you ignoring me?” 

More silence. 

“Oh, enough of this childishness.”

With a deep breath in, Orm turns the knob of your door and lets himself into your room. He’s met with colorful tapestries embellishing the walls, big rugs covering the hardwood floor, and twinkling lights surrounding the bed frame. The scene that you set for yourself in your room makes Orm think about his home - the way that the colorful bioluminescence would sparkle throughout his kingdom. 

When the initial first impression of your room wears off, he notices there is no one in the bed. No squirming presence under the sheets or anyone sitting on top of the bed to give him a stern talking to. Where did you go?

The blond takes a tentative step inside, stepping over the fuzzy carpets to keep from disturbing their arrangement. When he walks past the bed frame and closer to the window, he sees a lump of a human wearing a large blanket over their shoulders and some type of bulky headgear that covers your ears and emits sound. You were completely enthralled by the scene outside of the window that you hardly notice Orm stepping up next to you. 

A sudden hand on your shoulder has you jolting upward with a yelp, your hand instinctively slapping away at the intruder before you turn to look at where they came from.

“Jesus fucking christ!”

Orm gets into his own defensive position as you scramble to press your back against the wall, looking at you as if you were a trembling animal.

“My god, woman!”

“What are you doing in here you scared me half to-”

“I knocked but there was no answer so I-”

“Oh, so you decided to just welcome yourself in?”

Orm purses his lips in frustration, not thrilled at being met with the uproar he had originally expected. You sigh to yourself in disbelief, willing yourself to be quiet since there would be no productive conversation if you two kept yelling at each other.

“Next time just take the hint that I’m busy if I don’t answer, okay? You can’t just barge in here when you want, it’s not cool…”

The Atlantean has some sense to feel a shred of shame when you speak, although your words are hardly convincing when your eyes don’t turn in his direction for even a second. You look so timid standing there in your corner with the blanket consuming you completely - not at all like the spitfire that called him an “asshole” and warned him not to “test her.” (He secretly felt some relief in your loud exchange mere moments ago, because it meant that version of you was still there.) 

“I…I apologize for intruding.” 

Your head whips up to finally meet the man’s piercing blues, your mouth left slightly agape at an actual apology leaving the arrogant Atlantean’s lips.

“Uh…it’s okay...although, try not to do it again.”

Another moment of awkward silence passes.

“So…why’d you come in here?”

You ask this question as you take a seat back on the floor, resuming your position of staring out of the window only this time without your headphones. You pat the spot next to you on the floor, urging Orm to sit next to you. With a small eye roll, the blond begrudgingly joins you on your multi-colored carpet, opting to rest his arms against his knees as means to shield himself from you.

“I came here to apologize, not just for barging in, but for what happened earlier. I shouldn’t have gone through the wardrobe without your permission even if I needed different clothes. I should’ve asked you instead of rifling through your belongings on my own accord.”  

His apology, although rehearsed, seems genuine enough for your shoulders to relax. Your eyes follow the droplets of rain slowly trickling down the glass of your window, racking your brain for the right thing to say. 

“It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong, I just…I haven’t revisited the memories that room brings in a long time. You putting on that sweater unearthed them today, and it got me bad. See, I was having a shit day already what with keeping up with the shop, and then an accident causing traffic on the way home, and the wine that I usually like being out of stock-” 

Your rambling gets cut off by a soft chuckle coming from the man next to you, a sound that seems so uncharacteristically happy for his usual demeanor. The corners of your mouth perk up in disbelief, the expression making Orm quickly look away from you. 

“Huh. So that’s what your laugh sounds like. It’s nice…”

Orm didn’t understand why he reacted in such a way, you weren’t saying anything particularly funny…

…It’s just the way your eyes became so animated as you spoke more, your hands gesturing stronger as you explained further - it was amusing to him. So different from the usual company he keeps, always firmly placed brows and crossed arms from the high council members he consulted. Even the Atlantean women, although much more pleasant company, were more regal in comparison to his surface dweller host.  However, what you did have in common with those women was your tenacity. Even with his cold attitude towards you, your kindness was unwavering - a few times a day, without fail, you’d knock on his door with the promise of food and semi-entertaining company. He’s starting to regret only agreeing to the food.

God, he must be going stir crazy.

“What is it about the sweater that made you react in such a way?”

This was when you noticed that Orm was no longer wearing the offending material, choosing to wear the simping cotton T shirt you had given him. It may have been nothing - a simple delusion on your part - but the weight on your chest felt lighter at the idea that the Atlantean took it off to bring you comfort. 

“It - uh,” you stuttered, “it belonged to my ex-boyfriend. All of the stuff in that wardrobe did, actually. We painted the vines on the side of it together…” 

Orm’s arms flexed tighter around his knees at your words. He didn’t know how to respond, feeling significantly awkward due to adorning your ex lover’s clothing, so he decided to just shut up and let you continue.

“When I was 14 my parents got divorced. My mom wanted so badly to make it work, but my dad didn’t like his life here in Amnesty Bay - a part of me felt like he also didn’t like his life with us in general. I mean, he never had a problem making his grievances known, so…” 

Now, this was something the blond was familiar with - uncomfortable family dynamics. The realities of his parents’ marriage were never shielded from him growing up - he often witnessed the brutality of his father whenever his mother, Atlanna, would make her opposing opinions known. He often felt conflicted about which side to take - the one of least resistance that prioritized the well-being of his people or the one that looked out for the well-being of everyone, Atlanteans and surface dwellers alike. Hearing you now, speak your piece on your own upbringing, comforted him in a way he didn’t expect.

“The divorce was messy. Lots of nights spent being pulled in every direction, but with no real place to find peace. After everything settled, my dad ended up moving to New York while my mom remained here. They agreed that for the school year I’d stay with my mom, so she’d have some help at the flower shop, but I’d visit him on major holidays…”

The blanket around you suddenly feels too thin, a chill running over you as you recount your tale. You take a sneaky glance over your shoulder to check if the blond was still listening, and you were surprised (and delighted) to find that his steadfast gaze was at the side of your face. 

“...At some point during my years at university, my mom stopped asking me to visit - demanded that I only live with my dad when I was out of school. You can imagine Arthur had his qualms about that…”

You chuckled to yourself at the memory of a young Arthur blowing up your home phone upon hearing the news. 

“It would only be for the same visiting time as before, so there wasn’t much fuss on my dad’s end, but my relationship with him had become so different after the divorce that it wasn’t ideal. It…It hurt to hear my mom reject me like that.” 

Orm’s mind flashes back to the rain soaked figure of his mother, presenting herself to be siding with his half-brother after his defeat. The sting of her counteraction still lingers in his chest.

“When I had started dating my ex during my third year, I found out the reason my mom was keeping me from home - she got sick…cancer. All of the overworking to pay the bills, lack of support, and the hereditary traits…she got really sick. I guess she didn’t want me to see her in so much pain…” 

Orm watches as you turn away to stubbornly wipe at your face, a sniffle coming from your direction. He hadn’t expected you to willingly speak on your background when he asked about the sweater, but a part of him felt guilty for being the cause of your current distress.

“When she died, I moved back here to look after the house and take over the shop…but my ex had moved in with me. Darren.” 

More tears fell from your cheeks at the same speed as the rain running down your window.

“Darren offered to help me with the business, help me get on my feet. A part of me knew that he was going to hate the life we were starting together based on talks we had about the future, but I ignored it all when my grief became the only thing I felt for a long time. He always wanted more - more than our little town, more than the flower shop…so when an opportunity presented itself to have a life on his own, he took it. Just like my dad did…” 

 Orm’s heart drops at the end of your retelling, knowing the feeling of rejection and abandonment all too well. His father would be rolling in his grave if he knew what feelings this little surface dweller was stirring in him. The gap between the Atlanteans and the humans was closing in his mind, and Orm wasn’t sure if he cared to stop it. All he wanted at this moment was to stop you from crying. 

“I’m sorry for putting on the sweater…and for being an ungracious guest these past few days. I’ve been a real dick.” 

You can’t help but guffaw at his choice of words, using your fist to mask the unsightly sound as a cough. 

“That’s not a very princely thing to say…” 

Orm’s head tilts back as he snickers, feeling slightly proud of himself for inciting a better mood in you.

Ah, that laugh again, you think as you admire how ethereal the man looks in his relaxed state. 

“Perhaps my brother is to blame for my much more…colorful vernacular.” 

“Perhaps,” you hum in agreement, “or you’re just not as much of a dick as I previously thought…sorry for coming on so strong that first day.” 

Orm’s blue eyes shine at you with something unfamiliar - different to the cold, distant stare you were first met with. You find yourself wishing to always be at the receiving end of his kind eyes. 

Orm clears his throat before uttering, “No need to be…I was the one that misjudged you before ever seeing you.” 

A silence falls over you two, a comforting one built between new comrades. Your (e/c) gaze meets his as the storm calms outside of your window, signaling the start of a new chapter for you and your royal roommate. 

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

title: we’re oranges and apples now

paring: grayson hawthorne x reader

synopsis: you and grayson broke up years and years ago after a long and happy relationship but one day you meet again in the future and the memories come flooding back…

parts: we’re apples and oranges now (your pov)

warnings:

a/n: this is we’re apples and oranges now but reversed in Grayson’s POV, you’ll notice this mirrors the other fic quite a bit, this is intentional!!

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @peterlcsingwendy @lxvebelle @xoxo-vee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zoyaaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77

Grayson’s POV

I was wandering around the shops cluelessly. Cluelessly is never a word I thought I’d describe myself with. Grayson Hawthorne was not a clueless man but nowadays I seemed to becoming less and less like Grayson Hawthorne than ever. I check the list of items I’d been asked to purchase and gather most of the things I need. I find myself in the fruit aisle, picking up various berries when I spot some oranges. Not my particular favourite but I decide to get some anyway. As I’m picking some I’m suddenly aware of someone beside me. I glance from the corner of my eye. She’s recognisable in an odd sort of way. I couldn’t quite see her face but something about her presence, the way she’s breathing, her careful movements, it’s all so familiar. It’s like I’d seen her so many times but couldn’t place my finger on who she is. I ignore the puzzle my brain is trying to make this and focus on the oranges in my hands. She’s buying apples, placing one by one in a brown paper bag. I’m just about to put the final orange in the bag when suddenly I feel her bump into me. I see hands fly to her mouth and her eyes widen.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry!”

Her voice hits me like a train and I realise who she is. Why she was so recognisable. The left side of my chest fills with warmth that spreads across my whole body and suddenly my heart is pounding. I’m frozen for a second, not knowing what to say until I blurt out her name.

“Y/N!”

I stand up properly to make sure it’s really her. She’s stood there still, not moving, not blinking, I don’t even know if she’s breathing. She seems to be ina state of paralysis for a few moments. She looks up finally and murmurs my name.

“Gray?”

I chill runs down my spine, it’s been so long since I’ve heard my names from those lips. Her lips. The ones I used to kiss and now look at us. Too flustered for each other’s good in the fruit aisle of a grocery stores. Her hair spills around her face, framing her beautiful features. It’s like I’m looking at her for the first and last time all over again. The odd feelings of desire and pain mixing up into some messy soup in the pit of my stomach. As our eyes meet, a lifetime of love flashes before me. Memories that had been buried deep into the darkest parts of my mind begin to resurface and play like a mini movie. Over and over and over, like the film tape was stuck in the camera and no more of the story could make it through. She looks just like I remembered yet not quite. The months I’d spent moping over her, dreaming of her features, once drawing her just from memory. And now she was here infront of me. I wonder what she might be thinking. If she were thinking about the past we’d been through or the present were in now. Or maybe it’s neither, maybe I’m not even on her mind.

“Wow it’s really you,” I say. I want to smile, but I can’t will myself too, it feels in my gut like some sort of betrayal… but I don’t know who to. My wife? My children? Myself? Her?

It’s so odd seeing her again. Part of her was always somehow engraved into the side of my heart. Even when it was all over, the scarred name was still there and right now I can feel it throbbing. I don’t know whether the pain is good or bad but it just feels so natural for it to occur. I’d thought I was over this, over her, over the feeling but now I can see her again I don’t feel so powerful over my own swarm of thoughts as I did when she wasn’t staring at me with those angel eyes. She’s everything I’d remembered. Perfection doesn’t even begin to outline what she looks like. She looks a little older, a little more mature but I dare say it’s made her even prettier. She has the same gorgeous eyes, bright smile, soft hair. All those nights I’d spent gazing at her while she slept, tracing the very features that I stare at now. Then I’d taken them for granted, assumed that I’d be able to do that forever but now I just take them in slowly, processing this might be the last time I see them.

A question plays on the tip of my tongue, but it had already died long before in my throat, so I don’t ask it. Even though my heart is screaming for me to just be brave for once, my brain declines once again. My eye flicker down to get a glimpse of her left hand. I am guilty, but I have to know if she’s found someone new. Someone who’s given her what she deserves, the things that I couldn’t. But her left hand is gripping the basket so tightly that her fingers and any rings are hidden behind the handle and the white of her knuckles. So I’m left staring at the items in her basket. Baby bottles and blankets. My heart plummets down to my stomach. Was she expecting? Or had she already had her child? It’s funny, I’d always thought if she’d ever had a baby it would be mine. Suddenly this revelation makes me angry. She is having it has had a baby with someone. She’s a mother and not to my children. It stings so much more than it should. Like antiseptic on a fresh wound. But what hurts more than that is that I don’t know these things about her anymore. I don’t know her life, all the exciting moments and even the painful ones. And I’m never going to. It’s never going to be what it was and it’s all my fault. I let it all slip away and now I’m full of regret,

And then the blow of guilt hits me out of no where again. As if a shell has exploded right in front of me and I’ve been blown to smithereens. I should’ve be feeling regret. I have my own a life now with a woman a love, who is now called my wife. I have kids and a car and a steady income. And she has her life. I’m selfish, I’m so bitterly selfish for wanting what I can’t have when I already have so much… and yet it still doesn’t stop me.

Her hand shifts hold on the basket and then I see it. An engagement ring and a wedding band. Classy and classic. I expect nothing less, of course. That’s her taste. It always has been and I’m glad she’s find someone who respects that, who acknowledges it. But it’s grating at me… if we had still been together would she have gotten the same set or would it be different. I wish I didn’t care this much. I shouldn’t care this much. It’s a piece of damn mental and yet it’s suddenly the only thing on my mind. I’m ridden with a horrible vicious jealousy, spreading like an ugly rash all over my skin. I’m jealous of whatever man put these rings on her finger, whatever man got the luxury of calling her his wife. I’m disgusted in myself for feeling this way because she looks happy. Happier than ever. And I want that for her more than anything. She deserves to be the happiest girl in the world. But I wish I could’ve made her this happy. But I failed. And this is my punishment. I have my own life now and so does she, so I keep having to remind myself. Why is the concept so hard for me to grasp?

I wonder about her husband. It’s hard to picture her with someone else. I think about all the things I hope he is to her. Was he the kindest soul on the planet? Would he do anything and everything for her? Did he treat her like she deserved more than the world? I hoped, I prayed he was. And even though I’m trying to forbid it to, my mind still wanders on… Was he anything like I was? Or did I scar her so badly that he was my opposite? What made her choose him? Fall for him harder than she’d fallen for me? What made his love worth fighting for?

I look back to her face and inwardly sigh. I doubt she was doing this. Mulling over me and my life like I am hers. Overthinking every detail, wondering who she’s married to and why. She’s too kind, too mature. I only wish I could have the decency to do the same, but it’s pricing difficult. Though, I catch her eyeing my wedding ring. And suddenly a pang hits my stomach and I want to tell her so many things that I can’t. I wish I could tell her I didn’t dare engrave the initials in the metal, like we’d one discussed. I didn’t for one second think of doing that with anyone but her. I wanted to tell her that I drove all the way out to a jewellers in another town just so I wouldn’t go to the same one we once did. I wanted to tell her that I kept the promise rings we’d made together and I still have them in a box under the roof of my house. But I stay silent because I am a coward.

“Yeah, gosh, hi, how have you been?” she asks. The first thing I notice is how radiant she looks, the brightness in her eyes and joy in her voice. ‘She’s happy’ I think again and that makes me smile a little.

“Good, I’m good,” I reply, “how are you?”

“Yeah,” she nods, “good as well.”

“It’s been a while,” i say, forcing a laugh to hide the resurfacing pain. It was easier like that.

“Yeah it has,” she grins back, her eyes pinned to mine. She looks so delicate in this moment and so unbelievably beautiful, “it’s about time we’d bump into each other.”

“Yeah,” I reply, gazing at her trying to suppress my smile. But it seems to not obey and suddenly I’m grinning like I haven’t in a very long time, not since we were together I don’t think.

A menagerie of memories replay in my head, but it feels like I’m a bystander in every scene, watching another version of myself with her. A wave of deja vu envelopes me suddenly sending tingles down my spine. I don’t like what she does to me, I don’t like feeling so far from myself and yet I miss her so much. And just as if she’s reading my thoughts she says three fateful words that I’ll never forget,

“I’ve missed you,” she says rather suddenly.

Those words hit me like a bus, in the best way possible. In fact I wish to be hit with that bus over and over and over just to feel the impact.

“I’ve missed you too,” I say, hoping she can hear the meaning in my voice, see the emotion in my eyes.

The tide of bittersweetness roll in and out slowly, unsurely, indecisively. And even though the water is only up to my ankles I’m suddenly drowning. Drowning in the most minuscule amount of water because my mind is making it out to be so much more than it is. A unswallowable lump forms in my throat in this prolonged silence. My eyes refuse to leave her face, the very face I left all those years ago. She wears the same expression as that night. One of the worst nights of my life. Her eyes are wide, a borderline of hurt and happiness. I still have nightmares to this day, it’s one moment of us together that I never wish to relive. The silence makes me ache all over, craving her voice once more. I want to forget about the history and bury it right next to the pain and trauma that have been buried for years now. But making this quiet somewhat bearable is the silent conversation we share. We know each other well enough to do so. A shared moment the saddest of happiness and the happiest of sadness all at once.

A call comes through on my phone and I look down to the buzzing device to see it’s my wife. Guilt surges through me once again.

“Well I’d best get going,” I tell her quickly.

I need to get away. Even though all I want to so is stand her for the rest of time just to hear her voice and see her face. She’s my drug, she always has been and always will be. But I gave up a long time ago and I can’t go back to what I was, to who I was. So I need to run and rehabilitate, so I don’t get addicted again. A coward of a man is all I am, but I least I laid my eyes on her beauty once more before I never did again.

“Yeah me too,” she nod firmly, confidently.

She holds herself with so much more pride now, she knows how much she’s worth and I can see it. I’m glad.

“Goodbye Y/N,” I murmur, savouring the feeling of her name on my lips, “I wish you all the best.”

And I did. Truly I did. I wanted her to have everything she ever could dream of and then more.

“Bye Gray,” she says with a small smile that I never realised how much I’d missed seeing, “I wish you the same.”

We turn and walk our separate ways, apples in her basket, oranges in mine. I take the call from my wife and then wander aimlessly down different aisles not knowing what I was doing or where I was going anymore. Until it had been an hour and I finally made it back home. As soon as I can I get into the shower and break down. A sob silently as the water droplets run down my body, until the lungs ache and my head screams at me to stop. And even then it’s hard to. I can’t shake the regret, I can’t shake the pain, I can’t shake her voice and her face from my brain. I quietly wonder if she cried too… no. She’s far too strong. I pull myself together for the sake of the life I lead now and force myself not to think of her.

The oranges rot in the fruit bowl. I don’t think I would’ve eaten them when they were fresh anyway, I’ve never liked their immediate sourness and then the thick sugary aftertaste left to coat my throat. The next time I go to the shop I buy apples instead of oranges hoping she’d be there too, but she never was. I find myself wondering if the next time she went to the shop she bought oranges rather than apples in hope to see me. But I suppose it will remain one of the worlds’ greatest mysteries and I will never find the answer, no matter how hard I try…

a/n: I gave Gray’s pov a shot?? Don’t know how successful it was, but I hope you enjoyed anyways. Thanks for reading 🤍🤍

TIG masterlist

[jeanboyjean]

and i - ft. jean kirstein

summary: jean (successfully) tries to make you feel better after a recent breakup

content: friends to lovers, fluff, good vibes, jean brainrot to the max, modern au, college au

a/n: for @honeybleed 90s/00s rnb event!! <3 jean fluff hehehe bc i can't get him out of my brain and he is THE comfort character. inspired by and i - ciara. i love this song big time ♡ laughed so hard watching the music video when she brought out the horse lmaooo 🤔 for my fellow jean girlies!!!

1.2k words

"ugh, i hate him," you grumble, sinking into the couch with a heavy sigh.

jean glances at you, concern etched on his face. "what now?" he asks, taking a seat beside you.

crossing your arms, you slump into the cushions. "he just posted a picture of him with that girl. what a fucking asshole."

jean clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval. "why are you still on his profile? you need to forget about him."

with a frustrated sigh, you shut off your phone. it’s been a few weeks since you ended things with your ex, a decision long overdue. the relationship had lost what little spark had been there in the first place, dragging on for as long as the two of you would let it. the final straw had been when you had found the sexts he had sent to a girl in one of his classes. it stings and it sucks but more than anything, your pride is wounded. the sadistic part of you can’t resist the urge to keep tabs on him and wallow in resentment.

"i have forgotten about him," you say defiantly. "he's just unfortunately like the gum stuck on the bottom of my shoe."

jean lets out a low chuckle. his hands fall to his thighs as he pushes up off the couch. "okay, you know what. let's go for a drive."

curiosity flickers in your eyes as you look up at him, wondering where this is going. 

"come on, let's go," he urges, reaching forward to grab your hand. you let him pull you to your feet.

"alright, fine. but you're shouting me coffee," you tell him with a roll of your eyes, a small smile winning over.

"always," he winks in return with a mischievous lift to his lips.

the music blares as you drive, jean tapping his fingers along to the beat. you hum along, watching the scenery pass by with your window down, letting the cool air blow away your tension. the recent events start to fade away and your mind wanders back to your first break up a couple years ago during your first year of university. jean had been there then too, holding you as you had cried and simmered, until you were ready to put yourself back together. 

he had refused to let you mope around, forcing you to go out with him to movies and parties and bars. he had been the one to listen to your problems as you poured your heart out, making his shoulders your personal dumping ground. jean had been there for you through it all.

you deserve someone who loves all of you. the words he had said to you back then, ring clear in your mind. 

there has always been an underlying tension between you two, a quiet undercurrent that flows beneath the surface of your friendship. from the moment you first saw him, standing across the room at a party in first year, his presence has captured your attention drawing you to him like a magnet. you had become fast friends, sharing everything together from your classes, to your interests, to your deepest darkest secrets.

part of you wonders if he’s ever felt the same way. sometimes you wonder what it would be like if you had found the courage to tell him your feelings, but now you’re in too deep, the confines of your friendship too strong. all this time, you’re pining after him while trying to fill the void with other people, only to be crushed over and over. dreams of making a move dance in your mind, but the fear of jeopardising your friendship holds you back. you’re happy this way, if only because it means you can have him in your life. you’ve sealed these thoughts away in your heart and thrown away the key. 

jean's hand lifts from the steering wheel to turn down the music. "what are you thinking about?" he asks.

you cross your arms to hug yourself. "why is it so hard to find someone? am I just destined to be forever alone?"

he flicks your knee teasingly. "maybe you're looking in the wrong places." he turns his head briefly to meet your eyes. “plus, how can you be forever alone when you have me."

you roll your eyes and poke his shoulder before turning away. “yeah, and where should I be looking then?”

he pulls into the car park in front of your favourite coffee shop, shutting off the car and turning to you. he stills for a moment and takes a deep breath, letting it sit for a moment before releasing. a hand pulls through his hair, coming to rest on the back of his neck. "why not me?" he asks, turning to face you.

your eyes narrow at his words. "don't play around, jean."

"nah, I'm serious," he says. there's a hint of uncertainty in his voice but his gaze is unwavering. "you know I would do anything for you." 

you freeze, chest tightening, feeling the air being sucked out of the car. you hear his words but they don't register, refusing to sink in. the sincerity in his words hang in the air, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. in the quiet, jean's confession lingers like a promise. you want to believe him, to let go of the fear that consumes you but you can't help but hold back.

you shake your head, uncertain of the implications. you’ve both said things like this to each other before, never ones to hold back on sentiment, but something about them today carry a weight you can’t ignore.

"but aren't we friends? i don't want to ruin what we have."

he reaches for your hand across the centre console, his fingers intertwining with yours. his thumb brushes against your skin, sending tingles up your arm. “i would never let anything ruin what we have,”  he says, his eyes never leaving yours, gaze tender but firm. “i've wanted to say this for a long time."

with his free hand, he cups your cheek and leans in, brushing your hair aside. "i could have everything in the world, but I would sacrifice it all for you. stop wasting your time with these losers.” 

your heart pounds, breath catching in your throat. slowly, you allow yourself to acknowledge the feelings that have lingered beneath the surface. "jean..." you whisper, the sound barely escaping your lips.

"please. let me show you."

his lips meet yours, and for a moment, you forget about everything else. the world disappears, leaving only the two of you. it feels like a dream as he pulls you in, your chest flush against his. your fingers comb through his hair, your heart thumping in your chest.

everything about him overwhelms you. his scent, the way his hair feels between your fingers. and the softness of his lips, gentle and warm against your own. 

his hands slide from where they’re tangled in your own hair down to hold your arms, squeezing lightly. he pulls back, his eyes searching yours. the moment hangs in the air, the intensity heavy between you.

"are you okay with this?" he asks, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

you nod. a smile stretches across your cheeks as you look up at jean, whose expression mirrors yours. 

it’s more than okay. it’s everything.

you let yourself fall into the moment, unlocking the key to your heart, letting yourself want him. hope flickers in you, anticipation for what this could mean. you finally reach for the love that has always wanted to reveal itself. and this time, it feels real. 

[little-diable]

Insanity - Dean Winchester (smut)

What can I say, I just love Dean. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean and the reader are trapped in a church, moments of silence that force them to finally close that lingering gap between them; or: Childhood friends to lovers

Warnings: 18+, smut (p in v), oral (m), making out in a church, car sex, friends to lovers

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (1.9k words)

divider by @firefly-graphics

“Are you insane?” She drew in a shaky breath, eyes fluttering close as she rested her head against the wooden bench of the church. “Why am I even asking that, of course you are, you Winchesters all are.” 

“We both know you love the adventure, sweetheart, no need to lie to yourself.” Their eyes met, chests heavily rising and falling as they hid away in the church, praying that they’ll be able to catch their breaths for a moment or two. “Come here.”

Dean’s hand found her waist, pulling (y/n) closer to wrap his arm around her. He could read her as if he was the one feeling her every emotion. She had been scared; not about the demon both were currently hiding from – even though Dean wouldn’t call it hiding himself, more like catching a break; not about being hurt in this very hunt; no, hearing the pained groan rumbling through Dean, worrying that he had been hurt, had left her heart racing in her chest. 

“I’m okay.” He whispered the words against her forehead, hand comfortingly stroking up and down her side. There was something between them both couldn’t put into words to express what they were feeling, something neither Dean nor (y/n) had experienced in a long time. They had crossed paths as mere teenagers, bound together by their eternal fate: carrying the legacy of their families. Ever since then the two had been inseparable, not daring to leave one another's side. But not once had they acted upon whatever was crackling in the atmosphere whenever they were close. 

“I know, it’s just,” the words were hanging in the air, sentence left unfinished as Dean’s hand found her chin, forcing (y/n) to get lost in the green eyes reminding one of a forest, basking in the heat of a calm summer afternoon. A heat threatening to burn through her system if she wasn’t able to pull away quick enough. 

“I’m not leaving you, not now or ever, I promise. I’m right here.” She wasn’t sure why she was freaking out, it wasn’t the first time Dean had been hurt in a hunt – and certainly wouldn’t be the last time either – and yet her heart wouldn’t stop racing. Fuck, she needed to get a grip, focusing on the situation they were stuck in, trapped in a dark church in the middle of fucking nowhere. 

“Don’t promise me that, you know it doesn’t work like that.” A raspy chuckle bubbled out of Dean, gaze flickering down to her lips – just for a moment; a moment of weakness; a moment of distraction. Dean felt himself moving before his brain could catch up with his body, screaming at him to pull away, to stay away from the invisible line he had been wanting to cross for years on end. He had always tried to put their friendship first, not daring to even think about losing her in the process of admitting his feelings, preferring to suffer with the love that grew exponentially. 

The kiss was soft, unlike any kisses Dean had ever shared before, it wasn’t rushed, wasn’t filled with lust – at least not yet – guided by his racing heart. Her breath hitched in her chest, unable to pull away as she got lost in the unfamiliar touch, a touch she had been dreaming of since she had first met Dean, wondering about those soft lips. 

Her hands found their way to his hair, clinging to the hunter that pulled her into his lap, no longer focusing on their hunt, on the danger lingering outside of the holy ground. Dean’s tongue begged for entrance, unable to bite down the groan rumbling through him as she parted her lips for him. 

“Fuck, Dean,” her words vibrated on his lips, drawing yet another chuckle from him. His eyes were twinkling, though the green was no longer soft and clear, no longer reminding her of the calmness lingering in a forest, no, a storm was clashing through the evening, a storm so heavy she’d have no choice but give into the strong force. “We need to get out of here.”

“On three?”

“You’re staring.” Dean murmured his words, lips pulled into a smirk as he kept watching the road ahead. She had her face tilted towards him, not daring to stop admiring the man she had kissed about an hour ago. Both were still running on the adrenaline thumping through their veins, grateful that they had managed to get rid of the demon – spurred on by the need to spend more time together, alone without anything or anyone to disturb them near. 

“Mhm, maybe I am.” She placed her hand on his thigh, needing to feel him close, no longer able to keep her distance. Dean undoubtedly grew tense, jaw clenched, tongue stroking along his lower lip to at least try to keep his focus on the road ahead. He was burning for her touch, had tasted her and could no longer stop thinking about the things he wanted to do to her, fuck, he had wanted to take her right there in the church, giving into the inappropriateness of the situation. 

“If you move any higher I’ll stop the car and fuck you senseless right here, I hope you know that, sweetheart.” Dean’s murmurs left her gasping, not expecting the filthy words to roll off his tongue like that. She needed a few moments to reply, eyes flickering to the dark road ahead, pondering over his words as if he had offered her a deal her life depended on. 

And maybe it did, maybe the next moments would decide over the path the two could walk together from this day on. 

“I’m willing to take the risk.” Her fingertips grazed over the fabric of his jeans, feeling his cock growing harder beneath her touch. Dean grasped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles growing white as he kept driving, not slowing down just yet. Perhaps he was testing her, doubting that she’d go ahead and try to suck him off while he was driving; but she was determined, set on feeling every part of his body. 

It took her a few moments to undo his jeans, biting down the proud smirk tugging on her lips as Dean groaned for her, unable to hold back the sounds threatening to claw through him. He raised his hips, allowing her to fully free his cock, successfully managing to wrap her slightly trembling hand around him. Only the sounds of the radio kept echoing through Baby, though the music wasn’t loud enough to drown out the sounds the two produced, filthy sounds only for the two of them to focus on. 

Without a warning she moved closer, lips parted to swallow him down. The back of her throat was burning, struggling to take all of him as she gagged, eyes growing watery within seconds. He felt heavy against her tongue, resting comfortably in her mouth, not daring to pull away from the without doubt best blowjob Dean had ever received. 

“Eyes on the road, Winchester.” Her teasing momentarily ripped through the tense atmosphere, eyes meeting his stormy ones before she took him back into her mouth. (Y/n) felt the car slow down, eventually coming to a halt on the side of the road. No longer did he look away, eyes focused on her, the bobbing motion of her head, the tears rolling down her cheeks, the saliva coating his cock. A filthy mess he desperately wanted to take a picture of, forever his to remember. 

“Fuck, stop.” Dean tugged her off his cock, not wanting to give into his orgasm just yet. Their lips met for a sloppy kiss, sharing the emotions their words couldn’t manage to express. “Get in the back.” 

Quietly she followed the command, stepping out into the cold night only to find her way to the backseat, watching him tug himself back into his jeans for a second as he followed her. Carefully he placed her against the leather seat, towering over her as if he was the devil himself. He’d make her suffer, though not with pain, no, with something by far simpler, a sensation only those willing to take the risk would experience. Lust.

“I got you.” Dean’s lips moved down her throat, watching goosebumps rise on her skin, hearing the sound of her heart growing louder, feeling her growing tense beneath him. He helped her out of her trousers and panties, desperate for more access to her heat. She was dripping, begging for his cock as if he was the drug she was addicted to, a feeling so simple her mind had a hard time processing it. 

“You can do that later, just fuck me, Dean.” If he hadn't been this desperate to touch her, he’d probably tease her for being this impatient, for begging him to fuck her till she forgot her own name, but Dean was just as impatient, needing to feel her wrapped around his cock even if this was the last thing he’d do on this godforsaken earth. 

She watched him roll a condom down his cock, eyes flickering back up to meet hers before he pushed into her tightness, groaning into the crook of her neck. Fuck, this is what heaven must feel like, no, scratch that, this is what the darkest corner of hell must feel like:  Dean knew that he no longer could escape her, forever trapped in her spell, there was no escaping. 

With one hand finding the leather of the seats and the other placed on her waist, Dean fucked her into the seat, forcing his cock deeper into her tightness with every thrust. The moments kept dragging on, time had lost its meaning for the two lovers that searched their closeness with the way their bodies kept meeting. Bound together by memories, moments lived through together and the desperate need to stay like that till the sun would rise above the horizon. 

“Mhm, you feel so good, fuck sweetheart, you’re making me suffer.” His words were nothing more than a whisper, a sound so sweet (y/n) felt herself falling for him once again. She pulled him in for a kiss, walls clamping down on his cock as he fucked her closer to the edge. Her vision was blurred, unable to focus as her emotions wrecked through her, set on leading her off the path she had been walking, no longer one with the independent self she had once been. 

“Let go, it’s alright.” His name rumbled through her as (y/n) came around his cock. She had her eyes squeezed shut, heavily breathing as the sensation burned through her, not daring to let go of her just yet. Dean followed her moments later, spilling into the condom with a groan clawing through him, clearly communicating the desperation he felt. 

Neither Dean nor (y/n) dared to let go just yet, clinging to one another as the realisation slowly but surely began to settle in. Insanity had finally caught up with her, an insanity she could only share with Dean.

[divineintervention-comics]

When did you first read the myth of Ganymede? And why did you chose to make a comic for this myth?

its a long and convoluted story but im happy to share. in 2015, i was in middle school, i made horror character designs based on the zodiac signs and those later became OCs (i have never read homestuck, everything i know about it was forced upon me by my friends in school). i used the myths as backstories for the characters when they are living constellations. i wanted to make a RPG and they were stars that fell to earth when the gods got too caught up in their bullshit and neglected humanity and the earth and now they have to save the world.

i was immediately attached to Aquarius (who is now Ganymede), he was always an androgynous perpetually dissociated character even before i knew the backstory. i was a teenager myself at this point when i really got into it, and i found the Zeus and Ganymede myth to be disturbing since i was his age. it stuck with me, to the point where i struggled to find the other constellations myths less compelling.

i dont know how to code and didnt know how to make games, i already felt like i was losing it bc its been in production hell since i was 12 and i was 17 at the time. i felt like before i make the game, i should make backstory comics for ALL 12 CHARACTERS (how i thought i would be able to do that when i only cared about 2-3 of the characters in the series who knows). i couldnt stop thinking about Ganymede, i couldnt stop thinking about a story where he is a character and not just an object in the narrative.

in 2020-2021, i made my first draft beta version, it wasnt called "Cupbearers", it was "Divine Intervention: Cupbearer". i just found the myth so compelling in a "i need to make a horror story out of this" way, i needed to cope with my own fears of kidnapping, sexual abuse, human trafficking, loss of bodily autonomy, transformations, immortality, and being stuck through this myth inspired comic.

Ganymede, even as Aquarius, has always been a cathartic character for me, both as a 12 year old and now as a 21 year old. i grow up but he is cursed with immortality, cursed with eternal youth, the world keeps moving on and he will never be able to catch up. stuck in the same spot, never moving forward, never moving backwards, just stuck working for the man who stole his life until the end of time, eternal punishment viewed as a gift by those who bestowed it upon him. how could you be so ungrateful? we gave you a gift. we took you away from everything you've ever known, we've taken away ownership of your body, we've turned you into a beast like us, being tortured by me is a gift, it is a privilege that i chose you, you ungrateful meat-thing.

but he is just a kid, i want to protect him, i want to draw him having fun, i want to draw him enjoying a good meal, i want to see him find any comfort in the horror that is immortality. he's only a kid. just a baby, barely even though puberty, his brain isnt done developing, he had a future, he could have grown up and chose his own life. i think about that a lot.

i just generally have a lot of thoughts, everything i write and draw for this project has a point, it has a purpose, its not just needless suffering i dont write despair. (some zeus x ganymede shipper vagueposted about cupbearers being needless wallowing without purpose bc i dont write fluff fics between a grown man and his child slave)

i really appreciate this ask!!! thanks for asking me about my thought process, i have so much going on in my head and i need to get it out somehow

[kozachenko]

A Retrospective Analysis on Touhou 17

So it's finally here, and even though I know for a fact that I am not going to be able to get the Keiki drawing done by this time (I'm having trouble with the eyes, for some reason it's always that aspect of drawing her that's difficult for me, I can never really capture the essence of her character no matter what I do) I still wanted to post something about this game today since it's the game's 5 year anniversary. I have a lot of thoughts on it, and my views on the game have changed quite a lot throughout my time being a Touhou fan. This is going to be very long so I'll put the rest under the keep reading tag.

So for some background, Touhou 17 was the first Touhou game I ever played, I got into the series during 2021 shortly after my Hunter X Hunter phase ended (since the manga was still on hiatus at the time) and I remember playing 17 during that time as well. I'm pretty sure that the reason I played it was because of that one nitirushh animation where Keiki disses the animal spirits so hard that they die (still my favourite fan-depection of Keiki tbh, it's just really funny to me) and that set my interest in the game itself. It was also the newest Touhou game at the time and none of the other games interested me as much. Then I actually played the game and at the time I found it insanely fun. I remember feeling so excited playing the stage 1 of the game and thinking to myself "Holy shit I'm actually playing a Touhou game" and having a lot of fun with it. Even though the game itself is the easiest out of all the Touhou games, it was still a challenge for me at the time since I had never played a bullet Hell before. For this reason, the game as a whole struck a chord with me. Funny Touhou animation aside, I don't know if it was because I had only recently gotten out of my Hunter X Hunter phase after finishing the whole 2011 version of the anime and had caught up with the manga during 2020, but maybe some aspect of 17 kinda scratched a similar itch in my brain and it really stuck with me IDK.

As for what I think of the game itself now.... gameplay wise, it could be better, it's still fun but there was so much potential for the game to tell it's story through the medium it chose to present itself in. Why did we not have more similarities between Eika and Keiki's danmaku styles to show their connection? Why did we not have a moment similar to what happened in TD during the final boss fight where Mayumi comes back in to take over during the fight in a last ditch effort to protect Keiki? It's the final boss so go all out! The animal spirits could also be balanced a lot better as well, especially with Youmu becoming incredibly overpowered with the wolf spirit, and visibility is a bit of a problem in this game. Some of the tracks could use a bit more polish too, I commend ZUN for being experimental with his newer tracks but the stage 3 theme and staff roll theme are both kinda eh, and while the boss themes have a lot of good punch to them and can be really good, it still feels like some extra spice could've been added to really make them stand out (which is why I love the theme remixes Saki and Yachie got in Touhou 19). I also wish the Animal Realm got explained better within the lore of the series, mainly because it raises a lot of questions about how Hell was founded and it kinda needlessly complicates things. I would've rather it be introduced as it's own region of Hell rather than being a separate thing entirely that just so happens to be located next to it. I also wish that we got more stuff with this setting that explains how it connects to the rest of the worldbuilding a lot more, I definitely feel like actually having it explained more in the mangas would definitely help to make it feel less convuluted, but unfortunately the closest we're getting are cameos in Lotus Eaters and very brief mentions of the games themselves. I still like the game though, as I've mentioned I do love a lot of the music and I love all the characters we got introduced to in this game. I've been appreciating Eika a lot more recently, I do like Urumi but she's neat and I like her design a lot, Kutaka is a fucking shithead who kept FUCKING UP MY 1CCS IN BOTH 17 AND 17.5 THE FUCKING BITCH- who is very funny and I love seeing more insight into Hell's management. Yachie's great and I find her relationships to the other characters in this game very interesting, Mayumi is awesome and the more I think about her the more I like her, and I love how Saki contrasts Yachie in her strategies. That being she has no strategy and just goes "fuck it, we ball" with no hesitation lmao.

I'm pretty sure you all noticed the absence of one character in particular, that being Keiki. I've made it no secret on this blog that Keiki is my favourite Touhou character, and a lot of that is because of her role as an antagonist in Touhou 17. I always found it really fascinating how ZUN created her as an allegory for AI (I don't know if Apollo just randomly blessed him with the gift of prophecy because MAN does that statement hit harder now more than ever) and the fact that she's portrayed as a very morally grey character in the game itself and Reimu's reaction to her, stating that she can see an "evil aura" in Keiki. I've already talked a lot about Keiki on this blog and I don't know what there is that I haven't said, but I wanted to start off with her because it ties into a big part of why I still find this game's story interesting. That main aspect being it's parallels to Gensokyo and Touhou's overarching them of humanity's relationship with nature.

So to step back from 17 for a second, I feel like we should look at what the Youkai represent in the story. Youkai in Touhou are created from humanity's fear, and back before science was able to properly explain anything, this fear very often manifested into a fear of nature. Natural disasters would end up wiping out villages, dangerous animals would often lurk in forests and end up killing anyone who would go in them. Overall nature isn't very kind to humanity, and humanity knows this. This is why humanity would often try and find reasons as to why these things would happen. This brings us back to the Youkai in Touhou who are the embodiment of the unexplainable. In manga like Forbidden Scrollery and Lotus Eaters, we often see how the humans in the human village are at the mercy of these Youkai, the only reason that they aren't being slaughtered is entirely for their own benefit so they don't run out of resources. The only hope the humans in the village really have is to turn to the gods, another product of man's desire to explain the unexplainable, to potentially save them. The survival of the people in the human village will always be in the hands of beings beyond their comprehension. No matter what, humanity will always be at the mercy of nature.

Coming back to Touhou 17, we can see that the relationship between the human and beast spirits isn't exactly.... pleasant. The beast spirits all see the human spirits as slaves essentially and they gain strength from their torment. The only way that the human spirits are even able to stand a chance against them is to submit themselves to a god and pray for their protection. And even then there's no way in Hell that they're getting out of this situation since the god they're praying to views them the same way as the animal spirits (whether they are aware of it or not).

So if you haven't noticed by my word choice, there are quite a lot of similarities here with the dynamics of the Animal realm and Gensokyo. That's not even mentioning the fact that in both places we have at least 3 different parties fighting over control of the humans, whether it be animal spirits or Youkai. Hell, this race for power in Gensokyo is a plot point in Lotus Eaters and Forbidden Scrollery, so it's not like this is a new concept for the series to explore either.

There's also something to be said about how Keiki and the technology she brings with her are seen as a threat to the order of the animal realm. Throughout human history, humanity's creativity and ingenuity have always been major factors in our survival as a species. We created tools to use the nature around us and make it work to our advantage, we created weapons to more efficiently hunt and find food to survive, and we created art and literature to document our histories and make sense of the world. Going back to 17, Keiki is the epitome of humanity's evolution and creativity and she is the one who responded to the human's cries for salvation. Another thing to think about is that in Gensokyo, the best the villagers are going to get in terms of technology are old computers that are very limited in their use, and even then barely anyone will have any idea how to use them. The reason that Gensokyo even exists in the first place is to preserve the Youkai and Gods that would become forgotten by humanity's technological advancement. In both of these places, technological advancement is seen as a threat to the natural order and must be suppressed at all costs.

Of course in Gensokyo it isn't as extreme as the animal realm. The Kappa, the Tengu, and even gods like Kanako are all quite technologically advanced and/or are introducing new technologies to Gensokyo (those are just the ones I could list off the top of my head, but please tell me if there are more that I forgot). But here's the interesting thing, notice how none of the examples I listed there were humans. The only way for the humans of Gensokyo to have these technologies introduced to them is if the powers that be, nature, let them have those technologies. Going back to the animal realm, even after Keiki is defeated we can see that the beast spirits are still using the technologies she (most likely) introduced, i.e. that one chapter in Lotus Eaters where one of the otter spirits introduced what is essentially a GameBoy to the Kappa and Nitori saying stuff like, "oh yeah the animal realm is actually pretty technologically advanced nowadays" as well as that one story in CoLA where Ran and Yachie deal with the AI Sumireko made. Once again, the only times when the use of technology goes unprotested in this series are when it's kept out of the hands of humans and back into the hands of nature. Even when humans are able to fight back and create their own technology, nature will always win in the end, no matter how hard humanity tries to defeat it. The way Touhou 17 ends is indicative of this, with Keiki being defeated and the Animal Realm returning to it's status quo.

However, Gensokyo has never had this kind of issue before.... or so it may seem. Yes there's never been any technological uprising by the human villagers and with the way things are there most likely never will be, but when you take away the potential for technological advancement from humans then the next best thing would be magic. And when humans in Gensokyo use magic to find a way to gain power and be more than just fodder for the Youkai, they end up being punished. This is most prevalent in Forbidden Scrollery when Reimu kills the fortune teller. I don't think I need to go too in depth about this moment since I already did so in my Forbidden Scrollery review but this once again shows a parallel between Gensokyo and the Animal Realm.

So what am I trying to say with all of this? I've been bringing up a lot of the similarities that these two places have but similarities can just be chalked up to coincidences that don't mean anything. What I've been trying to say with this whole thing is that the Animal Realm represents an extreme version of Gensokyo, one where every ugly aspect of it is dialed up to 11 and the law of the strong eating the weak rules all. It's a Gensokyo without a spell card system to level the playing field. I do want to say that I don't believe Gensokyo is a grimdark setting, sure some parts about it are bleaker than others, but there are also many good aspects of Gensokyo that I feel like I should bring up. It's a safe-haven for the forgotten, and if we continue viewing the Youkai and Gods from the lens of both of them being allegories for nature, Gensokyo is a place where nature can fluorish outside of humanity's hands. Unlike the Animal Realm, Gensokyo was never established with the intentions of harming people. Nature is both beautiful and terrifying, and where Gensokyo displays the beautiful sides of nature, the Animal Realm displays all the ugly sides of it. Even then, there is some overlap between the two, Gensokyo does have a nastier side to it and the Animal Realm is a place where nature can exist unrestrained by humanity (even if the place is still a shitshow overall). Now that I think about it, this sort of duality between the two realms is kinda fitting for Touhou, and I can't stress enough that when I say that Gensokyo and the Animal Realm have some parallels I am not trying to say Gensokyo is a grimdark dystopia. Hell even going back into the Lotus Eaters manga, the otter spirit that escaped from the Animal Realm even said that Gensokyo was a better place to live.

So yeah, I don't really have any good way to end this aside from saying happy 5 year anniversary Touhou 17. You are a flawed game but god do I still love you. Oh yeah, and if there's anything I missed or any mistakes I made, please correct me/let me know.

[diviningrodtv]

Oh yeah, NSH Time.

I've been holding this post back for like a week😅

I absolutely love how NSH came out and I think he's currently my favourite rain world model that I've done! (Sorry Pebbles, I'm going to upgrade you later anyway :]

I also made his scarf easily removable so you can see how the stripes aren't just on his head! The stripes and his irises also glow, but a bit brighter than the areas on Five Rotten Pebbles.

His antennae are pretty similar to how I did Sliver's, especially considering I did his first! XD They're separated from his head a bit.

Also if you've noticed in my art that his eyes are the exact same as in the model here, that's because they are! I tried finding a way to draw them how I usually might, but I just couldn't get the same vibe! So I said, "Fuck it!" and I've been drawing over his model ever since XD

NSH is also who I used to make the "umbilical arm" model! So if you saw those posts, that's why the textures are all messed up!

And here it is in all it's glory!

It's mostly made of ball joints with a flexible joint attached to the back. The last segment also twists just like your forearm bones!

Also..... lore shit below cause I have, plans™ so-

If you don't want to know why NSH is acting strange on my blog yet, read no further!

(there's also some downpour spoilers, and some other disturbing things)

*slaps top of can* This bad boy can fit so much fucking insanity in him. (cw: self-harm yeah you heard me)

If you haven't figured it out already (I did drop hints :) NSH's structure is damaged! His legs are giving out because a group of scavengers thought it would be funny to transport all of their explosives at once.

So he's in a bit of a pickle!

This is when Looks to the Moon and Five Pebbles' communication tower is repaired! During their first conversation in a very long time, NSH finds out about good ol' Hunter long legs, and is rightfully distraught! He feels like a total failure, that he wasn't experienced enough to properly create his messenger.

That's what this whole post was about!

But, experience is something that can be gained.

NSH figured if Five Pebbles was able to leave his can, then he should be able to as well, but that requires solving the three problems I mentioned in the Five Rotten Pebbles post:

The self-genome modification barrier,

A general lack of puppet central brain matter, and

No material processing within the puppet.

I'll talk about my umbilical lore for this AU here since it's relevant.

Either the "cord" or the "arm" can be disconnected, but not both. This is for ease of repair by administrators. Disconnecting them both would leave the unfortunate Iterator fully functional. Although, they would be blind in the visible spectrum (apart from overseers), unable to speak directly to someone in their chamber, and would otherwise have their workflow be severely impaired. They would effectively be trapped in their own head.

NSH realised that even if the barriers existed, they could still have the intentions, to break them. So what would happen, if he broke one? Not by writing it out of his system, Five Pebbles already proved how risky that method was, but instead by setting his actions in motion faster than any barrier could stop them? This was something to test, and wasn't that what Iterators were built to do anyway?

Umbilicals can only be disconnected by administrators, but what if he were to do it anyway? He needed to leave his can after all, it wouldn't be much of a loss if he was stuck on the floor of his chamber or floating aimlessly in zero gravity for a while.....

So what if he just ran fast enough to rip himself off?

What if he moved his arm back at the last second, could he gain enough inertia to pull it out of his back? Even if it took a few tries?

What other choices does he have? Perfect Five Pebbles' method until he collapses and continue even then? He had time, but not enough for that, and The Hunter certainly did not have any time for waiting around. NSH had to fix his mistake, he had to.

So this bastard goes and does exactly that, and short-circuits his entire system.

Not just breaking the umbilical maintenance barrier, but every other one in the process.

And it all hurts like hell.

But that's the first problem solved, and now he can help keep himself afloat longer. So that now, he can figure out how to solve the other two problems with precision.

Of course, the others won't like any of these plans, but, after what Five Pebbles did, they wouldn't dare disturb him if he stopped responding, right?

And maybe, he could even hijack their communications array, to look for help.

>:]

yeah so NSH is not sane

[edsboxingglove]

ed — cowboy au

recently did a drawing of him in somewhat cowboy attire and i’m trying to rack up in my brain on how that would even happen LOL

but i can definitely see him using and forming his psycho powers into a rope to help huddle the cows and sheep!

him country dancing would also a somewhat easy task as he’s already light on his feet

even if he hates the thought of dancing for people, i like to think whenever he’s bored and waiting for the others to finish up their chores

he’ll hum a tune of song—that has been stuck in his head ever since he came across the local bands—and mimic the steps he saw nights ago

bonus points if he’s doing it in the barn as he sweeps up the hay

٩( ᐛ )و

It was another night in the town.

Every night was boring but when it came to the weekends, the whole town loved to celebrate a hard week of work and party with their neighbors.

But of course, parties can turn into hell quickly. Drunks caused commotion and criminals blended in the rowdy crowds, it can be chaotic in an instant. That’s why they were there—the unnamed group that kept things in check when needed. No one had a name for them yet, but they all knew who they were based on the owl logo on their outfits. Whether it would be on their jackets, belts, or hats—they would recognize them.

Ed had been forced to enter a bar of some sorts. It was unlike the ones they had seen before as the area in the middle was huge and crowded by people. The music was played passionately by a band. This bar seemed more for entertainment than mindless drinking. He watched as his group members followed the cheering crowd. He scoffed and soon followed behind. Unlike the others who seemed curious about the ruckus, his eyes trailed over the crowd to see anyone that seemed out of place.

Places like these were a perfect spot to pickpocket mindless bystanders without being caught.

He felt his chest bump into Falke. He looked down at her then followed her strong gaze. There were people dancing. Smiles planted on their faces and their hands colliding with their dance partners. The first thing he noticed was the amount of spinning they loved to do. How was that enjoyable? He could feel a headache coming just by looking at them. But they all seemed to be in sync no matter what. Their footsteps mirrored each others as the clacking of their boots matched the beat of the music. Whistling and cheering were made by the crowds. Encouraging this weird and unnecessary behavior.

The music changed, the couples soon walked off and a new set of dancers eagerly stepped into the dancing area. They hopped to their desired spot and clapped to the beat of the song before swinging their hips to the side and sung with excitement.

Ed’s hand adjusted his belt as he became uncomfortably interested in the dancing. His eyes lead down to their feet and watched the swift and light movements of the dancers. Even after they aggressively stomped on the wooden floor, they were quick enough to spin lightly and continue their footwork.

Soon, gunshots were heard and the crowd erupted into chaos. The band ducked down and soon continued to play. This was a normal occurrence for them. If they got shot, at least they died doing what they loved doing best. At least, that’s what they told the group after they questioned why they were stupid enough to stick around instead of taking cover.

The members soon prepared themselves for a fight.

Ed scoffed in annoyance as he felt people rush by him to leave the bar. He hated how much he was enjoying the show and even was more angered that it was interrupted. His hands adjusted his hat and soon traced over his wrapped knuckles. His eyes looked at the empty dance floor once more before punching the nearest bad guy.

—

Ed stepped into the empty barn and began to lazily sweep up the hay.

Falke had told him it was his turn to clean up the barn as Dobermann had already done it last week. His eyes followed the sticks of hay that began to jumble up after each sweep. Subconsciously, he began to hum out the music from the band. He stopped once he realized and huffed at himself. The song had been stuck in his brain all week and it was irritating. He had another things to focus on yet his brain decided the song was a priority. His hand squeezed the wooden handle, causing his knuckles to turn white. ‘Get a grip.’ He thought to himself and continued to sweep.

His eyes darted at the barn door every second. He stood up straight and looked down at his boots. The images of the dancers played through his mind. For a moment, he stood still and took one last glance at the door before he began to tap his heel.

1-2.. Or was it 1-2-3?

He closed his eyes and softly hummed out the music. 1..2..3..

His left hand held the broom stick for support as he jumped and clacked his heels together once they hit the floor. He took a moment to regain balance and swung his feet into a kicking motion to carry the momentum as he swung and hopped. He now faced the back of the barn and repeated the steps over and over again.

The shed of light creeped into the barn as a furry hand swung it open. “Hey Ed—“ He stopped for a moment and watched as Ed had quickly stumbled and forced himself to straighten up. His hands gripping onto the handle of his broom and his chest heaving with big breathes.

“What were yo—“

“Nothing. What do you want?” He huffed out, his arm wiping off the sweat from his forehead—and to block out the embarrassment that was planted on his face—.

[psychedelic-ink]

— PICK ME | FRANKIE'S ENDING

happy belated birthday @pedrito-friskito 💜💜💜💜 this gift is from both me and @inklore we love you so so much and I hope you had the best birthday ever! thank you for always being such a wonderful friend 💗

pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

genre: fluff, mild angst, second chance romance, smut

summary: you decide to head to frankie's. there's still too many emotions lingering between you and it would be a shame not to give it another chance.

warnings: oral (female receiving), a hint of hurt/comfort

word count: 2k

click to head back to the start

You decide to go with Frankie. 

You can’t deny the chemistry you have with Santi, and your curiosity might forever gnaw at your brain, but you and Frankie have something special. You just have to see it through before jumping into something else, something new. 

Since Frankie’s car broke down prior to the wedding, the two of you take a cab instead. 

“Where to?” the cab driver asks and Frankie blanks for a moment, eyes darting to you. 

“I. . . actually haven’t thought about where we should go,” he looks sheepish, scratching the back of his head. He’s not wearing his signature ballcap, his hands feeling lost as the nerves start to get the better of him. “Would it be okay if we head to my place? I got wine?” 

“Wine sounds good,” you answer with a smile. He lets out a sigh of relief and gives the driver the address, without wait the car drives off from the venue. The first seconds are spent in complete silence, his fingers drumming against his knees while he stares out the window, the lights of the city bouncing off his handsome countenance. You find it endearing. Reaching out, you press your hand against the curve of his knee, fingers squeezing gently. He jumps before turning to you. “Relax,” you say. “It’s okay. You’re not alone in this. I. . . I’ve been thinking about you too.” 

“Really?” his genuine surprise breaks your heart. Dark eyes search yours before exhaling a loud breath and collapsing to the seat. “Good, I was worried there for a second.” 

“Worried?” you ask. “Why?” 

“Well,” he clears his throat. “‘Cause of Pope.” 

Oh, so he noticed. 

You squeeze his knee again before letting go and settling further into your own seat. “You have nothing to worry about. It’s in the past, whatever it was.” 

“You never mentioned it when we were together.” 

You’re not sure if he’s accusing you of something but you feel defensive anyway, “I didn’t think it was relevant. And nothing happened.” 

You cross your arms and look out the window, familiar silhouette of buildings passes by, bright lights flickering back at you as the shadows grow longer. You feel his hand on your cheek, his thumb drawing gentle lines over your skin as he urges you to look back. 

“I didn’t mean it like that, baby, I know nothing happened,” he smiles when you meet his gaze. “I just didn’t know how you felt is all. You could’ve told me, I would have understood.” 

“I didn’t think there was anything to tell,” you murmur. “It happened a long time ago, he backed away and I just thought I read the signals wrong. I guess with the wedding he realized he had some regrets.” 

“Well, for what it’s worth, I could never back away from you,” his voice falls into a whisper, his fingers sliding to your chin, he tugs you closer. “I’m not that strong, querida. Even tonight I couldn’t pull away from you, even if I know that us staying apart is probably for the best.” 

Frankie's words hang in the air. You’re caught off guard, stuck between wanting to console him and wanting to talk about the issues you had while together. The cab's interior seems to shrink around you, your heart shattering as he drops his gaze away from you.

Despite the loss of his gaze, his thumb continues to trace gentle patterns on your chin. His touch comforting. Keeping you grounded. 

With a deep breath, you cradle his face with both hands, forcing his gaze back— you close the distance between you, your lips softly meeting his in a kiss that is better from the movies. Time seems to stand still as your lips linger against his, conveying more than words ever could.

When you pull away, a mixture of emotions plays across Frankie's features—surprise, relief, and a lingering trace of uncertainty. His hand drops from your chin to rest on your thigh, his fingers gently squeezing.

"Wow," he breathes, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I wasn't expecting that."

You chuckle softly, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. "Thank you for always choosing me without hesitation, Frankie. I. . . I appreciate it, no matter how this ends."

“Of course, mi amor, always.” 

As the cab approaches Frankie's apartment, he leans in to press a quick, affectionate kiss to your cheek. "I hope you're not regretting this," he says softly, his eyes searching yours once more.

You shake your head, a smile tugging at your lips. "I never could regret you, Frankie."

He nods, seemingly content with your response. The cab comes to a stop in front of his building, and you both step out onto the sidewalk.

You step out of the cab and onto the sidewalk in front of Frankie's apartment building, you're suddenly aware of the cab driver who has been witness to this entire exchange. The reality of the situation makes your cheeks heat up and a nervous laughter bubbles from your lips.

"Uh, sorry about that," you mumble to the cab driver, avoiding eye contact as you scratch the back of your head.  

The cab driver chuckles knowingly. "No worries. Just another day in the city, right?"

Before you can respond, you feel Frankie's arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close protectively. His presence is reassuring, and you glance up at him with a shy smile.

"Yeah, just another day," Frankie chimes in, his voice light as he gives you a gentle squeeze. "Thanks for the ride."

The cab driver nods with a grin. "Anytime. Have a great evening, you two."

While the cab pulls away, you and Frankie share a sheepish smile.

"I guess we really made that driver's day," you say, shaking your head in amusement.

Frankie chuckles, his grip on your waist relaxing but still there. With Frankie's arm around you, you make your way into the building and head up to his apartment.

Frankie heads over to the kitchen, rummaging through his cabinets to find the promised bottle of wine. You take a moment to look around his place, feeling a sense of familiarity mixed with anticipation.

"Found it," Frankie announces, holding up a bottle of red wine triumphantly.

You join him in the kitchen, watching as he deftly uncorks the bottle and pours the wine into glasses. The atmosphere is relaxed now, a sense of ease settling between you two which you’re grateful for. You take a sip, watching him from over the rim as he does the same. 

“I’ve missed this,” you say silently. “And I’ve missed you.” 

Frankie takes another sip with a smile, holding the wine in his mouth, he comes closer and tilts your head up. His eyes search yours momentarily, and knowing the nudge that he needs, you part your lips, “Kiss me.” 

And he does. 

You part your lips for him, swallowing the wine that pours from his lips, it’s bittersweet as it goes down your throat, some of it spilling from the corners of your lips. You fumble a bit as you put the wine glass down, your hands coming up to fist his shirt as he deepens the kiss with a tilt of his head, licking further into your mouth as if trying to catch the remaining red jewels on your tongue. 

You let out an involuntary moan as Frankie deepens the kiss and his hands slide up your legs, pushing your dress up further around your waist. One hand snakes its way around your waist while the other reaches up to caress your face, thumb resting right at the corner of your lips as he softly bites your tongue. His tongue parts your mouth to explore further. 

You take in a shuddering breath, Frankie's lips still on yours as your hands coil around his neck tugging him closer to you, your breath coming in short gasps as the intensity of the kiss takes over both of you. His hands move from your face down to your neck, exploring every inch of you, making your body shudder with pleasure.

Frankie slides his hand down your neck and down your torso, leaving a trail of fire in his path. He pulls away from the kiss, pushing your dress up further as he reaches down and slides your underwear down before leaving it in a pile on the kitchen floor. He stands between your legs as he leans down and recaptures your lips with his. 

His kisses are hungry, as though he has been waiting patiently for this moment for weeks, ravenous in his eagerness to taste you. His tongue tangles with yours, exploring the depths of your mouth as though it was his first time. You feel yourself shudder over and over as he gives your lower lip a gentle suck and nibble, sending warmth down your spine. 

“God, I can’t get enough of you, querida,” he whispers into your mouth. You yelp when he roughly tugs down the neckline of your dress, exposing your breasts to him, both tingling and aching to feel his mouth. “Look at that, so hard for me,” he groans as the pads of his thumbs feel the pebbled flesh 

He works his way down, planting kisses along your neck and shoulder before paying special attention to your nipples, gently flicking them with his tongue and sucking on them making you gasp out in pleasure. His hands come up to cup your face as he slides his tongue down your stomach, licking and tasting you until he reaches your core, his mouth parting and devouring every inch of you.

Frankie's tongue slides between your folds, exploring every inch of you, and you arch your back into him, a loud moan easily slipping from your lips. His tongue delves deeper, licking along the edges of your entrance before curling around your clit. Your eyes roll back and your jaw falls open, your chest heaving at the pressure of his mouth.

He stops for a moment, teasing you further before pushing into you with his tongue, his wetness making you gasp in pleasure. “Are you feeling good, baby?” he murmurs with a humorous lilt. “Sounds like you are.” You grab his shoulders and grip them tightly as Frankie circles your clit with his tongue, gently tugging on it in a constant rhythm, his deep chuckle reverberates in your cunt, making you moan out loud.  

Frankie adds his fingers, pushing two inside you, gently spreading you open wider as he licks and sucks your clit. His touch is gentle, but insistent, and he sends wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body. 

“F-Frankie—I’m gonna–” you can’t even finish your sentence before another moan breaks from you. He briefly looks up to you, smiling. 

“Come on then, sweetheart, don’t keep me waiting,” his breath fans your soaked core and you tremble. “I want every single drop.” 

You cry out, your hips pushing against his hand as he increases the pressure and tempo, his tongue and his fingers working in tandem to take you to the brink of orgasm. You moan his name, desperate for relief, and he doesn't disappoint as he sucks on your clit, sending you over the edge and into a blissful state of ecstasy. Your entire body clenches, flooding his mouth simultaneously as your muscles go lax. He laps at your cunt, tasting every drop. 

“That’s it, that’s my good fucking girl, making a mess for me—” he groans, giving your clit one final suck before coming back up to your eye line with a lazy smile. 

Once the waves of pleasure have finally subsided, you collapse against him, completely spent. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close, and it's in this moment that you realize it’s always going to be Frankie by your side. You can’t imagine feeling this safe and comfortable with anyone else. 

Frankie's breath tickles your ear, “How about we head to bed and I can really show you how much I’ve missed you.” 

“Hmm,” you smile, pulling away from the warmth of his chest. “Not if I show you how much I’ve missed you first.” 

[wilcze-kudly]

Beifong babies ask like you asked <3

I feel as if the person I’ve seen you least talk about is Huan. Do you have any thoughts on him, either in relation to Kuvira or his interest in art? I’m sorry I can’t be more specific rn, my brain is…very frazzled. as expected 😭

I actually have SO MANY thought about Huan, I just never had the time and place to file them away. I've always liked Huan, and thought he could've been an incredibly intriguing character with a lot of potential. I can confidently say he probably was concieved primarily as a gimmick character, a bit of a jab at 'edgy', modernist artists. However, Huan has a lot of potential as a character and an exploration of themes.

First of all, Huan is interesting becaus he is one of the few "pacifist" benders of the show. This is especially intriguing due to him coming from a family with such a prominent amount of bender fighters. I wonder if he ever felt pressured to be a fighter too, or if he feels inadequate due to following a different path.

I personally like to think that Su gently pushed Huan to be fighter too, when he was a child, due to her own upbringing, which I imagine had Toph valuing her daughters careying on her legacy. But Huan was too much of a tender and sensitive soul, and didn't like the idea of destroying or fighting. I like to think he spent a lot of time with Aiwei, who nurtured his individualism, talents and hobbies. I like to think Aiwei was the one to help convince Su to let Huan pursue his artistic interests.

Due to this, Huan and Aiwe were always pretty close when Huan was growing up. So I think Huan ended up absorbing some of the Red Lotus' teachings about individuality and freedom.

For some reason, I think Huan would be a good big brother to his younger siblings. He cares a lot for Opal, Wei and Wing even if he doesn't show it often. I think for most their lives he just kinda let them do their own thing and was pretty antisocial, until the shit with Kuvira happened. Huan was one of the only people to see how affected Opal and the twins were by the betrayals of Baatar Jr and Kuvira and the danger their family was put in. He also felt srather guilty when his little siblings were out there risking their lives while all he could do was evacuate.

This motivated Huan to step up as a big brother and try to 'defend' them from Suyin trying to 'fix' the family and Baatar and Kuvira.

I also like that he seems so good with kids and enjoys spending time with them. Its a sweet. And it seems like it makes sense that he would value Ikki's childish doodles, since children just playing with colours and shapes is a very pure form of creativity.

Huan's relationship with freedom of self expression and individuality is also domething that caught my attention, especially in relation to Kuvira's regime and especially his infamous "crushing my individuality" line.

Sure, this line is objectively really funny, and pretty memeable. But let's add some context that adds themes I'm 78% sure weren't intended.

I've spoken at length about how Kuvira draws heavily from the Soviet union. I've also probably mentioned how my high school had a focus on humanistics, particularly Polish literature, although what I'm about to discuss extends far beyond Poland. And one of the 'eras' of literature and art that stuck with me the most was the period of time when Poland was the Polish People's Republic, essentially under the thumb of the Soviets. For creativity, it meant what you might expect. Basically, a mandate on almost every piece of music, literature and visual arts to be essentially Soviet propaganda.

I, as you may guess, dislike the time period with a passion. But some of my favourite novels and works of art have come about as a response to the danger the Soviets posed to creativity. It's fascinating to see what creators chose to bend the knee and alter their works to go through rigorous censorship, and what creators chose to resist, often getting blacklisted if not worse.

Many wrote bleak, heartwtenching stories about the death of art in the Eastern Bloc and how it impacted society as a whole. The emptiness of the propagandised happiness, the false idols of theatre and movies, the cheapness of it all, the ridiculous censorship that often contradicted itself.

I think Huan, being an artist could've been a very good vessel for exploring these concepts and storylines, especially with how self expression and creativity is still often censored and attacked irl, most visibly by conservatives in the USA. [Damn I asked for asks on the Beifong babies and weilin to escape the shitshow across the pond yet here I am]

We are especially entering a new era of war on our rights to express ourselves as different groups begin to try to control and restrict how we create and consume content in the still relatively new medium that is the entire internet. This could be something poignat to have been touched on.

These may be concepts that would be difficult to explore in a show like tlok. But atla was able to allude to the concept of propaganda and Huan was the perfect vessel for a mini storyline like this. Exploring Huan's identity as an artist and creator would be a huge benefit to the show, judging by how many people in the fandom have their own creative inclinations and how tlok as a show encouraged us to follow in Korra's footsteps to push through diversity to achieve freedom and enlightenment. Why should self expression by seperate from that equation?

Anyway :/ those are my Huan thoughts which kinda poured out due to how much I've been stewing in them lol. Thanks for the ask I always love recieving them especially if they have something to do with the Beifong Babies. Today was a rough day and I appreciate the distraction and chance to ramble.

[heartbreakincident]

28 or 40 for the whump prompt?

(prompt from here)

28. “I won’t leave.” / 40. “You have shit timing, you know that?”

(cw for vague references to a past attempted suicide)

ocs: keres, rene (original). 707 words.

Some days are better than others. The thing about trying and then failing is that all the feelings that made him try in the first place didn't exactly go away. They just... got more complicated.

In certain ways, it's easier now. Rene can take a backseat and let Keres pilot their body around, let them get a hand on the wheel and do the menial work of stretching, showering, feeding them. The self-maintenance tasks that Rene couldn't bring himself to do for them when he was feeling like this.

Keres has long since forgotten how to be chatty out loud, so their little basement apartment is eerily quiet. They've spent too much time dead and then too much time locked in the back of Rene's head, before the two of them learned how to be an us instead of a you and me, so they forget that they can talk whenever they want. With a mouth and lips and tongue and teeth. Instead, they nudge the little blob inside their head that is Rene right now, and feed him sensations to try to coax him out of the empty, disembodied void he's trying to lose himself in.

They don't get it. When they had their own body, before they'd died, they'd had a brain that functioned the way brains are supposed to. They'd only struggled with tasks that were actually difficult, and they'd worried about things more or less the right amount. Even still, now that they shared a body, they didn't get the full force of Rene's moods. Didn't understand why just the thought of existing was so overwhelming.

They definitely didn't understand how Rene could remember the way the water had felt in his lungs and wish he'd never been pulled out.

"You have shit timing, you know that?" Rene says, in that strange way that they talk to each other in their head. It was like forming a really clear thought, enunciating syllables in his brain without ever opening his mouth. It had to be on purpose, more intentional than physically speaking, or the words just came out jumbled in their shared space. "I was so close."

Keres froze, fingers loosely clutching the spoon they'd been using to stir their lunch with. "I don't regret it," they reply, words slow. They had a little lisp when they spoke with their mouth, a slight slurring to their speech. The remnants of some sort of physical thing that they used to have but didn't anymore. "We'd be dead otherwise."

"If I could give you my body I would. You'd make better use of it." And then Rene could sleep. Let the sentinels devour his soul and disappear into that nothingness that he thinks he might have spotted somewhere at the bottom of the river.

"Our body," they correct reflexively. "It wouldn't be the same if it was mine."

"You'd be able to do whatever you wanted with it," Rene offers. "If I left, you could quit my job and disappear. Start over as whoever you want to be." He doesn't know how realistic it is for him to actually leave them with it—Keres was stuck fast, and the two of them were so woven together at this point that it was hard to remember the time before. But it was sort of nice to imagine the possibility that he could just... drift off, and leave Keres with the parting gift of the life they'd desperately wanted.

"True. But it'd be lonely. And it wouldn't be ours." They adjust the heat on the stove and resume their stirring, drawing a few idle circles in the bottom of the saucepan. "I prefer it this way."

It was hard for Rene to argue with them when they said stuff like that. Because underneath the words, he could hear what Keres really meant: that he'd be missed. That Keres wouldn't be the same person if Rene wasn't around. That he'd be killing more than just himself, even if he was leaving a healthy body behind.

"I won't leave," Rene promises. "As long as you don't."

Keres laughed, a soft thing under their breath, hesitant because they're still out of practice. "You make it very easy to say yes, sometimes."

[ruiimellowww]

Okay HI hello 👋👋

I saw ur art about Sun & Moon through a reblog and I am such a simp for those two omg so here's a rant :33

(Also if you're not comfy with this pls ignore this rant then, and I am so sry if that is the case!! Will stop immediately if you tell me to /srs)

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

CAN I JUST SAY I am sosososososo in love with your desgin for the dca cuz holy shit I have never seen anything hotter. O.O LIKEEE THE HUMANOID VERSION??!?!!?? UGH soooo goooodd 🥵🥵 I love the designs and the- the little EARRINGS as well?!??! Omg sooooo cutee aaaaaa 💞💞

and-and omigosh UR ART IS SO GOOD AS WELL!?!? I straight up just wanna munch it. I am eating ur art fr. In LOVE with ur artstyle it's so yummy 😍

Anywhoooo I also scrolled through your dca tag aND *GASP* ECLIPSE?????? 😍😍AND I?? WANNA??? BE ENVELOPED????? BY HIMM??? (I feel like mans would give THE BEST cuddles on the planet!!!)

HOLLLYYYY SHITTTT thE SIZEEEEEEE

Big tall omigoshhhhhhHHH M- my brain- my heart my- mY EVERYThIng is mELTING! ! ! ! ! Literally his size just does something to me I cannot comprehend why omigosh

(*lays in a puddle on the floor*)

I can imagine sosososo many different scenarios where that height could be used aaaaa >~< <333 ;P

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

Omg if you have any HCs (and *wanna* share, ofc.) about him (Or about Sun & Moon) I'd love to listen to you ramble about them??? <333

So curious about ur HCs & would absolutely love any crumbs about the dca ksskksskkdkdjdks ❤️😂

Uhm uhm first off, thank you so much I can't rlly put into words how sweet this is and I totally don't mind the rambles because me too. And also because its been YEARS since I last used Tumblr or did anything answering Ask is a bit tough for me.. MmMM

Although I don't have many HC at the moment.. I can however give you a little insight I have regarding my Human DCA :]

Moondrop (Moon) and Sundrop

- when I first designed Moon (after the game came out) he had a much wilder look to him, especially the face because I was really into the idea of him being simply insane hence the red.

- later when i got back to his design and adding colours I thought that it would be fun to make it Blue and white themed, which I actually didn't see a lot back then

- he wasn't supposed to look human even as a Humanoid, I liked to think that Sun & Moon simply had a renovated body. They are just as much Animatronics as they had always been, robotic parts and everything but with a bit of twist

- So then onto Sun.. the thing is its sad to say but I never explored much with Sun's design back then as much as I did with Moon, so I can't provide a good reference

- although I had a rough idea of how sun would look like I never quite liked the way I drew him, so he's always somewhat been stuck in this unfinished stage

- Then there was eclipse, who was my absolute FAVORITE at that time, I don't think I loved a character MORE THAN ECLIPSE EVER when I was drawing him out

- yes!! It was very much inspired by the 3D render shown here as the ref, though I did make some changes of my own to the design as well

- I had a lot in my head when I was drawing him, but the one thing that I loved most about this design still to thisq day is rhe face. The way I him to look back then was sort of a mix between my Sun and Moon designs, only leaning more towards Sun in colours and Moon in appearance with the crazed look in his eyes

The height was just a funny little thing I thought of, cuz imagine this giant fkn ahh robot just comes in here and picks you up 💀 god I would piss myself

Cough..

So in regards to the new design, I did kind of get rid of the animatronic feel to him that I had done with the DCA and his old design, all of them now look a whole lot more Human which is what I intended for

Eclipse has a few scars around his body; right forearm, left side of his torso that leads all the way up to his chest. Plus a bit of his face that is burnt which you can't exactly see because of the Black spots

Overall I like my newer designs quite a lot and has also changed a lot, this is probably the most insight you'll get out of me abt my art 😭😭 cuz I don't usually ramble this much otherwise

I might come up with some head canons at a later date, but they'll be fun thats for sure ;)

[radishhqueen]

ao3 questions!

thanks @plothooksinc for the tag 🥺💕 i am always psyched to talk about writing.

1. How many works do you have on AO3? Somehow I've reached 10 whole works... 9 of which are completed.

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 193,772. Shit I gotta write something to break 200k.

3. What fandoms do you write for? rottmnt pretty exclusively. I never have been so plagued by a media that I felt the need to write it down before. Insane that the ninja turtles got me.

4. Top five fics by kudos?

how to get very good at juggling - 1,079

vigilantism for fun and profit - 410

it's too early for this - 322

the ol switcheroo - 321

stuck between a rock and a hard place - 207

5. Do you respond to comments? Yeah!! At least if there's something to like, reply to. I get very giddy about doing it, so if you've ever received a rambling five paragraph essay from me uhhh enjoy my stream of consciousness.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? I don't think any of them have angsty endings? Mostly bc i need all my little guys to be happy. the ol switcheroo is the fic that I cried the most writing though, hands down.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Again, all happy endings, but HMMMM how to get very good at juggling may be the happiest. It's a hard pick tho.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Nah.

9. Do you write smut? Not that anyone gets to see.

10. Craziest crossover? I've never written one! I tend not to seek them out, though there are definitely a handful I'm very fond of.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not that I'm aware of!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yeah! My friend and I have been co-writing a fic on and off since about 2018. It's just for us, really, since it's basically a post-canon fic of an RP that we were in from like 2009-2013ish? Anyway the lore doesn't make sense but the character dynamics compel me so here we are. I've got some snippets and some drawings for it in #rs tag.

14. All time favourite ship? Not a big shipping person!

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I intended on writing more for hot girl summer, but considering I haven't updated it in about a year, and I never really had a plan in the first place, and I feel like the last posted chapter ended in a very conclusive place, that ship has probably sailed.

16. What are your writing strengths? The Bit. She's my #1, I never forget. My favorite comments are along the lines of "please stop making me laugh during this very sad section". People have different tastes of course, but I find that consistent, oppressive angst is just not...appealing to me, and if the angst goes on for too long, I'll just drop the fic. I like to add a little levity to the mood, or at least some dark humor.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Ough. Planning is a bad one for me. I didn't have an outline for any of my fics, besides some rough mental plans. for the ol switcheroo, I didn't even have an ending figured out when I started writing it. Actually coming up with ideas can be difficult, and I usually need to have something actively eating away at my brain in order for it to make it onto paper.

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language? Depends on if the POV character understands it or not. If they don't, I'll usually just write like "Character B said something in Spanish." If they do understand it, I'd write, "Character B started speaking in Spanish. "Do you drink milk?"" Maybe put it in italics if it doesn't seem super clear? The exception would be like, if a character is peppering words from another language, a bit like Leo and Spanish in rottmnt.

19. First fandom you wrote in? Technically I wrote some Pokemon fic back in like 2008. It was OC fic and I could not tell you for the life of me what it was about though.

20. Favourite fic you've written? vigilantism for fun and profit may be the one that I reread the most, though I do reread all the fics in the mean teen fighting machines series. The fic that single-handedly gave me Foot Clan brainrot. Casey Jones isn't even my favorite character in the show as written.

tagging @witchofthemoss @sroloc--elbisivni @crows-murder o/ i would love to see your words

[moroser]

[incoming long and personal and dark post]

it dawned on me that it’s april and that means it’s been 6 years since i stopped doing drugs. big achievement. i did weed the whole time, thinking i needed it to keep away from the worse stuff, but i stopped that too, almost 2 months ago now. everything i’m about to talk about i did without anyone in my life (offline) noticing and all by myself.

my entire life has been unstable and so difficult. and i mean difficult and sad. i used to drink pretty heavily, but i stopped when i found pills. i was taking pretty much any opioid i could find, i even stole them. i was text book addict with pills. i had every excuse to keep going with it, it made sense to me at the time. i was in so much pain mentally, emotionally, and eventually, physically. taking them was reprieve. 

eventually, i was taking so many a day, quite honestly i should have died. my brain was blank, i lost my creativity and i stopped drawing, which is the one thing i love the most to do. create. even though i did not stop, the fact i felt nothing in that realm anymore was heartbreaking. i’d spent several nights staring at the ceiling practically waiting to die. i had one dream that i can remember while on drugs and it was of me staring at myself opened-eyed and dead on my bed. it shook me.

the drugs affected my ability to think, cry and feel, then one day on my way to work, after taking so many, i got so sick on the side of the road on the freeway several times. eventually i pulled off into a town i didn’t know and passed out in the parking lot of a gas station for who knows how long. i woke up dazed with the taste of puke in my mouth, and totally dehydrated. i missed work, i was embarrassed with myself. i have no idea how long i sat there for before getting out of the car to walk around. eventually i made it home but i felt like i wasn’t the same after that. 

decided to detox (after trying before, and failing), which was the worst events i’ve been through in my life. took days, nearly a week to get over the worst of the symptoms. i don’t think i slept at all. i was so sick, shakes and chills, vomiting, etc. i let spongebob play for the entire time, that sponge grounded me lol. i’d made it through that time. and i stuck too it, using my desire to feel my creativity again and wanting to be better to my body to stay away from relapse. 

2017 i cleared my system of alcohol, pills, energy drinks, pop, and the only thing i’d let myself use was weed because i felt it would stop me from everything else. and technically, it did. it aided me for a long time. but the passed ~3 years i’ve been so ill with stomach issues and nausea and throwing up that i decided to stop that too. 

so now i’ve been completely sober for 1 month and 21 days. for the first time since high school i have nothing in my system that is altering me the way substance abuse has. it’s been a major adjustment. my focus is shit, my sleeping is difficult and my dreams are insanity. it literally feels like i’m sleeping just to wake up somewhere else because my dreams are so vivid and clear. i wake up every four hours having to adjust and remember i actually live here, not in dreamland. i didn’t dream at all while on drugs or weed, so in a way, i welcome the vibrancy of them. 

looking back, none of those things helped me. they only broke and shrouded my spirit with a darkness i don’t want to feel ever again. i want to be healthy and i want to give my body the chances that it deserves. i want to heal properly. i want to live so much. i want to find someone to be with that will understand me and accept me even with my flaws and history. i feel better already, but i know there’s still a long journey ahead and i can only hope it gets better. i deserve better. i know i’m a good person. i know i have so much creative potential in me and it’s what i want to give my energy and soul to.  

thanks for listening, if you read this. i am proud of myself for getting as far as i have but the support from my friends and strangers online has been a colossal sense of communal help i’ve never had offline. sharing my art has been a big help and just people enjoying it means so much to me. thank you.