#I'm. I'm feeling hopeful about the future.

[indie05]

About You

Reader x Ex! Paige WC: 4.2K Warnings: Angst, mentions of depression, mentions of sex.

January 2020

"Have you figured out where you’re going yet?" Paige’s fingers trail lightly over your forearm and her eyes remain locked on the TV screen as an Illinois tourism ad plays, a montage of the state’s biggest tourist attractions flashing in soft, cinematic cuts when Northwestern’s campus appears with a tree-lined shot of the university’s archway—and your stomach twists.

"You know I haven't decided, P."

Upstairs, two acceptance letters sit untouched on your desk. Northwestern or UConn. The decision should’ve been easy. When Northwestern’s email had arrived, it felt like the pieces had finally fallen into place, it’s what you had always planned, always wanted.

It would have been a no-brainer if UConn hadn’t responded with an email of their own just minutes later, accompanied by a scholarship too good to ignore. And if that weren’t enough to tempt you, a package had shown up on Paige’s front porch that night—a stark white Huskies jersey with her last name and new number stitched on the back. A tangible, undeniable tie to her future, a future that at that point - didn’t include you.

Paige sighs, shifting beside you, she’s thinking. You can tell by the way her brow furrows just slightly, by the way she presses her lips together like she’s weighing her words carefully. "I know, I know," she murmurs, voice quiet. "I just…" She hesitates, searching for the right words. "I just wish you'd talk to me about it. Northwestern is great, and I don’t want to hold you back, but UConn is good too. And it’d be even better with you there."

She’s right. UConn is a great school, and getting to watch her finally dominate on the UConn court, seeing her in that jersey, hearing her name chanted through the packed arena—that would be incredible. But Northwestern… Northwestern is Northwestern. A top-tier school in a city that has been the backdrop of your dreams for as long as you can remember. The idea of turning them down feels impossible.

But Paige is here, with her arm slung protectively around your waist, molded into your side so perfectly that it makes you wonder if you two were born to be attached like this. Her blue eyes are locked onto yours, saying everything she’s too selfless to voice, but pleading regardless. She’s consumed you, and maybe that’s why the words leave your mouth before you even fully process them— “I’ve been thinking about UConn a lot."

You weren’t lying, but the weight of the admission feels heavier than you expected. Paige’s face mirrors your surprise, her expression flickering between disbelief and something else—something dangerously close to hope, a hope you’re not sure you have the guts to diminish, no matter the cost to you.

When she finally speaks, her voice is barely above a whisper. "You really think you might go to UConn?" Willing your voice to be steady, to believe what you're about to say even as uncertainty claws at you.  "Yeah," you finally muster up, "I've been thinking about it. A lot."

For a moment, Paige just stares at you. Then, slowly, a small, shaky smile pulls at her lips. Her grip around your waist tightens. "You better not be messing with me."

A hesitant smile crosses your face, ignoring the way your heart hammers against your ribs. "I'm not," you say, glancing back at the TV. The ad is over now, the Chicago skyline fading to black. In its place, the dark screen reflects the two of you curled up together, limbs tangled, bodies pressed close. This—being with Paige—this is your future. Or at least you pray to God that it is.

September 2020

It had only taken one summer and trip to the city when you were seven years old for you to decide—Chicago was where you were meant to be. The memory is vivid: the skyline stretched high above you, the streets alive and practically humming. You had clutched your aunt’s hand and declared, with all the certainty of a child, that one day, you would live there.

Since then, every dream, every goal, every plan has centered around that promise. You've fantasized about it for years: attending college in the city or suburbs, staying in your aunt’s guest house in Evanston, spending your hard earned- but surely measly- paychecks on fancy dinners with your friends downtown that you’d get all dressed up for, and summers by the lake, with the warm pavement beneath your bare feet.

A postcard from that first trip, bought on a State Street tourist trap gift shop, had been taped over your bed at home for years. Now, it sits in a frame on your dorm room desk in Storrs, Connecticut—right beside a polaroid of you and Paige.

You’ve grown up, and the fantasy has changed. But it happened all too fast, which you assume is why your mother’s voice is echoing so mercilessly in your head as Paige dribbles down the court, her sharp movements effortless, and seeing her so in her element, so happy, so in control when you feel anything but almost makes you want to scream. 

"A person can love you back. A place can’t. Everyone wants to be loved, but don’t let the satisfaction of feeling loved take you out of a place you feel love for. Because at the end of the day, where you are can be permanent. And you’re so young—the people you’re with might not be." 

When you had first announced your decision to commit to UConn that had been her only argument against it before she kissed you goodnight, and never spoke against it again.

Regardless, the words pressed themselves permanently into your chest,  lingering through every minute of Paige’s first game of the season. You’re so distracted that you almost forget that it’s probably only the fourth time you’ve actually seen her for more than an hour since move-in day. She’d been so busy with practice and you with school, plus living on different sides of campus your time together has been almost non existent.

She calls you every night, sends a good morning text when she’s up at 6 A.M. for practice, but even with the lack of physical distance between you, thanks to the effort you had put into making that happen - you’re beginning to feel like you’re in a long distance relationship. 

But this is your future. Making Connecticut work. Following Paige wherever she gets drafted. Maybe even getting engaged, someday. It’s the realistic choice. The right choice. You remind yourself of that nearly every day.

And yet, no matter how many times you repeat it, the thrill of being here, of experiencing college together, has started to wane. And in its place, all you have is the harsh reality of your own dissatisfaction. 

November 2020

Your first Connecticut fall is not like fall back home. The leaves don’t change into bright reds, oranges, and yellows. The sun doesn’t shine through them and glimmer down on you making you feel a joy that up until that point, only Paige had been able to give you; instead it is wet, cold, and it just doesn’t seem to have an end. The sky is gray more often than not. The rain and wind storms come in fits and bursts, soaking the campus, making everything feel damp and heavy. And Paige—Paige is gone more than she’s present.

Basketball has always kept her busy, but college basketball is a different beast, one that devours her time, her attention, her energy. Even on the rare nights she sneaks into your dorm, curling around you, pressing a soft kiss to your hair, the chill remains, seeping deep into your bones, so deep that you’re not sure Paige could draw it out if she tried.

She hasn’t said anything about your change in mood. You don’t expect her to. You tell yourself this is normal. That you knew what you were signing up for. But the guilt is unbearable. Paige should be enough to make you happy. She is enough to make you happy. So why are you regretting your decision to follow her here so much?

It’s this thought—this horrible, gnawing thought—that leads you to where you are now: tucked away in a private study room, hunched over your laptop, the screen’s blue light burning into your tired eyes.

It’s a Saturday night, and instead of being at Paige’s game, instead of being anywhere near her, you are here, drowning yourself in schoolwork that needs to get done. Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself. Because the truth is that your grades need to stay high. And if you'd let yourself admit it… You’d realize the only reason you’re working this hard is to give yourself a chance to leave. So this distraction works, until Paige finds you.

The door creaks open and, at first, you barely register it. Your fingers stay frozen over the keyboard, vision blurring from a mix of exhaustion and unshed tears. The only sound is your breathing as you attempt to calm yourself down before turning to face the intruder when a familiar voice breaks through the silence before you can. 

"Hey."

You don’t look up right away. Instead, you blink rapidly, hoping she won’t notice how red your eyes are, how puffy your face must be. "Hi P," you manage, willing your voice not to break. 

Paige steps inside, closing the door softly behind her. She’s still in her sneakers, navy joggers and a UConn hoodie pulled over her game jersey. The damp chill of the fall air clings to her, but she radiates warmth, like she always does. She lingers by the door for a second, studying you. "You weren’t at the game." Her voice is careful—casual, almost. But you know her too well. You hear the layers of hurt beneath it, she never was a good liar. 

You swallow, you weren’t at the game. It’s not an accusation, she’s just stating a fact. But the way she says it makes it feel an awful lot like one.  "Yeah." You clear your throat, staring hard at your laptop screen. "I had a lot of work to do."

Silence.

Then Paige exhales, slow and measured. You don’t have to look at her to know she’s pressing her lips together, thinking through what to say next. "I get it," she says finally. "I just… I dunno, I thought maybe you'd at least come for a little bit."

She’s right, of course. You could have gone for part of the game. You could have shown up, even if only for her. "I was just really behind on this paper," you say instead, forcing a small, tight smile. "I’ll be at the next one, promise.”

Another silence stretches between you.

Paige shifts her weight from one foot to the other, like she’s debating whether to push or let it go. Finally, she sighs and moves closer, slipping into the seat across from you. She leans forward, resting her forearms on the table, studying you.

"Babe."

You freeze. She doesn’t say anything else right away—just that. Just babe. Slowly, you lift your eyes to hers. She doesn’t look angry. She doesn’t even look disappointed. She looks worried. "What’s going on?" she asks, voice quieter now, and your stomach twists. "Nothing," you say quickly. Too quickly. Paige tilts her head, eyebrows drawing together. "Come on."

You press your lips together, grip tightening on your laptop. Say something. Say anything. But your mind is blank, scrambled, a mess of words and feelings that you don’t even know how to begin to untangle yourself, let alone explain.

Paige exhales through her nose, leaning back slightly. "You’ve been… off," she begins slowly, carefully. "I figured it was just school stress, but…" She hesitates, searching your face. "Is there something else going on?” 

Your pulse pounds in your ears. You could tell her. You should tell her that some days, you feel like you’re suffocating here. That you miss the idea of Chicago so much it aches. That you feel like you’ve lost something, like a piece of yourself got left behind when you chose to come to UConn. That sometimes, when she’s not around, you feel so alone you can barely breathe. You need to tell her that you’ve thought about transferring. You need to tell her that your mom has already filled out the application for you and all you need to do is press send. But you don’t. Instead, you force a laugh—too light, too casual. "It’s just school, P. Seriously."

She studies you for another moment, like she knows there’s more, like she’s waiting for you to crack. But you refuse to let her see it. So finally, she sighs and nods, accepting your answer, even if she doesn’t quite believe it. "Okay." She reaches across the table, wrapping her fingers around yours, warm and solid. You try to focus on that, on the comfort and familiarity of her touch. "Just… don’t shut me out, okay?" she murmurs. You nod, not willing to admit to her or yourself that you already have.

Paige squeezes your hand again, then stands, stretching her arms above her head. "Come back to my place? We can watch a movie or something." For a split second, you almost say no. But then you see the way she’s looking at you—hopeful, tired, and a little too worried for your liking, and you can’t bring yourself to say deny her. "Yeah," you murmur. "Okay." She smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head before reaching for your bag. "Let’s go." You follow her out of the study room, letting the door click shut behind you.

January 2021

The apartment is quiet except for the obnoxious hum of the janky old heater and the distant sound of laughter coming from the dorm upstairs. It’s late—so late that even the digital clock on your nightstand seems to blink tiredly, the numbers glowing 1:42 AM. Really, you should be asleep. Paige should be asleep. But instead, you’re both lying in the dark, staring at the ceiling, caught in a silence thick enough to suffocate you. You close your eyes, and inhale deeply. You know what you need to do. But the words form a knot in your throat. 

"You're thinking too loud," Paige murmurs against your shoulder, her voice raspy, and unfairly attractive, which is not what you need at this moment.  You let out a soft, breathy laugh, but it feels forced. "Sorry." 

She shifts, propping herself up on one elbow. Her bright blue eyes cut through the darkness and bore into you. "What’s wrong?"  You swallow, keeping your gaze fixed on the ceiling. Your fingers tighten around the edge of the blanket.  She’s given you the opening, now is the time to say it. "I got into Northwestern." A weight lifts off your chest, and you almost want to cry at how relieved you are to have told her even though you don’t know what’s about to happen.

Paige doesn’t respond at first, and for a moment, you think maybe she didn’t hear you. But then, she pulls away, sitting up completely.  "What?" You finally turn to face her. Her expression is perhaps for the first time in all the years you’ve known her, completely unreadable, but her blue eyes are wide, searching.  "I applied to transfer," you say quietly, your chest tightening all over again. "And I got in." 

Paige blinks, like she’s trying to process it, like maybe she misheard you. "Since when have you been thinking about transferring?" You hesitate. Since September. Since the second I stepped onto this campus and felt like I’ve been slowly losing myself while you barely noticed. But saying that feels cruel, so you settle for—  "A while." Paige scoffs, running a hand through her hair. "A while? And you’re just now telling me?" Your stomach twists. "I didn’t know how."   

"Jesus”, She exhales sharply, shaking her head. "So what, you just decided you were leaving without even talking to me about it?" "No—Paige, I—"You sit up too, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, planting your feet on the floor. Your hands press against your temples, trying to steady yourself. "I haven't decided anything yet. I just… I needed to know if I had the option."

"And now you do." Her voice is clipped, sharp in a way you rarely hear from her.   You glance at her, at the way her jaw is clenched, at the way she’s gripping the blanket so tightly her knuckles have turned white. You’ve seen Paige frustrated before—on the court, after a bad game, after a bad call—but this is different. This isn’t just frustration. This is hurt.  

"Paige, please," you say, softer now. "I wasn’t trying to hide it from you,  I just never knew how to bring it up." She just lets out a bitter laugh, running a hand over her face, hiding her eyes which have pooled with unshed tears. "Could’ve fooled me."

"I just—" Your voice catches. You exhale, trying again. "I didn’t want to hurt you." 

"Oh, so now you care about that?" It would have been less painful if she’d punched you, and Paige knows it, she wanted it to hurt. She shakes her head, her expression twisting. "Do you even want to be here with me?” 

The question hangs in the air, and your hesitation—just a split second too long—is all the answer she needs.  Paige lets out a hollow laugh and looks away, wiping her eyes. "Wow." 

"It’s not that simple Paige,” you begin. "But isn’t it?" Her voice cracks slightly, and you decide that it might be the worst sound you’ve ever heard. "Because it seems pretty simple to me. You regret coming here with me. You wish you had just gone to Northwestern in the first place. And now you’re trying to undo it all.” 

"That’s not fair."  You try to argue. "Then tell me what this is” she almost screams, meeting your gaze head-on. Her blue eyes, usually so warm, are hard now, guarded. "Because that’s exactly what this feels like to me." You open your mouth, then close it, because—what can you even say? She’s not wrong.  

From her perch on the bed you hear her exhale, running a hand through her hair. "So what are you gonna do?"   

This time, you don’t lie "I don’t know." And that’s the worst part, isn’t it? Not knowing. The feeling of being split in two, trapped between the love you have for her and the love you have for the life you thought you’d have. 

Paige studies you for a long moment, then nods once—sharp, decisive. She swings her legs over the bed and stands, crossing the room to grab her hoodie off the back of her desk chair.   "Where are you going?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know." She doesn’t look at you as she pulls the hoodie over her head, grabbing her keys off the dresser. 

"Paige—"  

"I just need some air."

And then she’s gone.  

You sit there, frozen, staring at the spot where she stood just moments ago. Your whole body feels numb, the reality of what just happened hasn’t fully settled in yet.   The room is quieter now, emptier. You glance at the clock again—2:04 AM—then at the acceptance letter still sitting in the drawer of your desk, folded neatly in its envelope, just waiting for your decision, but deep down you know it was made years ago. 

April 2025

You didn’t hear from her after that night, not when you called her a million times the next morning, not when you texted to let her know that you were leaving, not even to say goodbye.

She never replied when you texted her after she tore her ACL, not even when you congratulated her after she won the national championship just last month, she was completely silent. 

Everything you knew about her now was gathered from news articles, gossip on social media, and the few mutual friends you had left from high school. You knew she never actually started dating anyone again but with the number of stories you’d heard about the beds she was spending her nights in, the roster of girls she had on speed dial at UConn, you almost wish she was dating someone else instead. 

The two of you had graduated now, separately. And while your life continued in Chicago, building your career and putting down roots. Paige had stayed another year at UConn and now was just waiting on the draft to start her career in the WNBA, just like she’d always dreamed of. 

And that leads you to where you are now. Scarlet, the small bar in East Lakeview, your weekend spot. The bass rattles the walls, a steady, pulsing rhythm that reverberates through your ribs as you swirl the last bit of whiskey in your glass. It is packed—some exclusive afterparty in the VIP section that had bled out onto the dance floor, bodies pressed together, laughter and conversations blending into an indistinct hum. 

You don’t even know why you came. Maybe to find someone to go home with, maybe because your friends dragged you here, maybe because it was easier than being alone.

You lean against the bar, facing away from the crowd, checking your phone even though there’s nothing to check. That’s when you hear it—low, smooth, slightly slurred from the amount of alcohol she had clearly had. "Looks like you’ll need a refill soon"

You barely react, letting out a quiet scoff, eyes still on your drink. "I’m okay, thank you." Silence. Then— "Damn. Won’t even look at me?" Something in your chest tightens. A pulse of recognition. You don’t want to turn around. You don’t want to, but you do.

And there she is. 

Paige. Fucking. Bueckers.

It’s been four years. Four years since the last time you spoke, since the night she walked away from you and never looked back. And now she’s leaning against the bar like she owns it, a half-empty beer in her hand, the other stuffed into her pocket. Her blonde hair is damp at the edges, curling slightly from the humidity of the packed club. She looks good, too good. 

The room is dim, but not enough to hide the way her eyes widen—just for a fraction of a second—before she schools her expression back into something unreadable. "Shit," she mutters, mostly to herself. "I didn’t even recognize you."

You let out a breathy, humorless laugh, turning fully toward her now. "Makes sense, it’s not like you’ve made any effort to see me in the past four years."

She raises a brow but says nothing.

"What are you even doing here, Paige?" you ask, your voice sharper than you intended it to be. Paige exhales through her nose, dragging a hand through her hair. She looks like she’s still processing, she wasn’t prepared for this, for you. "Right," she mutters, half to herself. "You’re in Chicago."

You cross your arms, studying her. "What? Did you forget?" She meets your gaze then, something flashing behind her eyes—something that looks too much like guilt. "No," she says after a beat. "I didn’t forget." The words hang between you, heavy and unspoken.

Four years. Four years of not forgetting.

You should walk away. You should. You owe her nothing. But there’s something about the way she’s looking at you now—like she wasn’t expecting to see you, like she wasn’t ready to remember—that makes you curious, so you stay.

Paige lets out a dry laugh, shaking her head. "This is so fucking stupid" she scoffs out shakily, beginning to turn away but something about her makes you revert right back to your 17 year old self, bold and absolutely unwilling to let her go until you've gotten your fix. Grabbing at her forearm, you look down pointedly at her drink “don’t go yet, looks you’ll need a refill soon too.”

Everything afterwards is rushed. Messy. Desperate in a way that feels a little too dangerous for your liking.

Paige’s back slams against your front door the second it closes behind you, and her mouth is on yours before you can think. She tastes exactly how you remember, her hands gripping your waist, fingers pressing, pulling, taking. It’s like she’s trying to prove something—to herself, to you, to the four years of distance between then and now.

Clothes hit the floor before you can realize what’s happening. The bed creaks beneath you as she pushes you down on it. Her lips drag over your throat, her breath hot against your skin. "You’re still so fucking hot," she mutters against your collarbone.

You bite back a groan. "Shut up."

She grins against your skin, teasing. "Make me."

So you do, in the way only you know how.

[pillowspace]

In Stars and Time 25% off on Steam rn. At least here in Europe. For your followers who have also been eyeing it up because of you 💙

Cracks my knuckles. Okay, let's do this again

Live with the ever-present burden of being trapped in a time loop only you can know about in this turn-based RPG. Create a better future for you and your friends. Find hope where there is none left. Pray to the stars and free yourself from time.

In Stars and Time is available on PC, Nintendo Switch, and PS4/PS5. You can play in English or Japanese. Open the menu in the top right of the ISAT website to find the content warnings if you need them. If anyone needs further context, feel free to ask me. And here is the trailer:

I believe the current sale is until the 9th of February? Okay, I'm done, thank you.

[rizlowwritessortof]

Grrrrrrr, I hate him already! 🤬 And divorce was sooooo much more difficult back then. I'm hoping Dean pitches in with the investigation? Feeling the atmosphere and history, picturing Dean in that uniform fighting on the front - and the whole thing about not planning for his future because he didn't know if he was going to make it home? 😔

Excited to see where this goes! 🥰

BETWEEN THE CITY & THE STARS - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: In the fall of 1945, Dean is having a difficult time assimilating back into civilian life after the War. He’s visiting his brother Sam in New York City, where he’s beginning to build up his law firm. At two minutes to closing time, you interrupt their evening to solicit a solicitor. Your request? You need help in order to divorce your husband.

AN: My day tomorrow is going to be a bit packed, so I decided to release this a bit early for you guys! So here we go! The first chapter of yet another new series, my first ever 1940s AU. 🥰 I hope you have fun on this one, because I sure did. Again, very much inspired by The Clock (1945), starring Judy Garland and Robert Walker. 💜

Prompt for @jacklesversebingo: Historical Epic

Song Inspo: For this chapter it’s “Cry Me a River” by Ella Fitzgerald

Word Count: 3.9K

Tags/Warnings: Angst, mentions of cheating, PTSD, historical tidbits

✨ Series Masterlist

🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

Part 1: Legal Grounds

November 2, 1945

Dean idly read the pamphlet stacked with others on his brother’s desk, which advertised his new and successful enterprise.

Law Offices of Winchester, Bialystock & Bloom

What do you know? His brother had his own office, his own business, and his name on a pamphlet.

Dean couldn’t help but curl a finger around a steel ball on the abacus sitting at the head of the mahogany desk, right next to Sam’s nameplate.

He let it fly. The abacus began to clack as one ball hit the other.

Sam looked up from the deposition he was writing to give his brother a wry brow raise.

“So this is what you do, huh?” Dean remarked, crossing his arms.

Without his jacket, his suspenders were on display over his shoulders. His red pinstripe tie was still in place, but his white dress shirt was rolled up to the elbows. Meanwhile, his brother preferred to keep himself more presentable with his sleeves down to his wrists. Jacket on.    

Dean glanced around the office, nodding at the line of bookshelves behind Sam, framing him as the bookish academic he’d always been. There was limited seating in here though, just a spare chair in front of the desk, and another to the right of it. Dean stood on the opposite side.

“If you’re bored, all you have to do is say so,” Sam said. “Which is strange, considering we’re smack dab in the middle of a city that never sleeps.”

He was right, Dean could concede. His little brother had given him a veritable list of things to do in New York City: visit the park, go to the zoo, see a picture show, visit a nightclub, or sample a host of restaurants that Sam knew Dean would probably enjoy.

He’d seen a lot of this place in the week that he’d been here visiting Sam, but a good deal of it he’d either spent alone, or with any willing young lady Dean came across, thanks to the demands of this office. If he was honest, entertaining young ladies was eating into the wallet in his trouser pocket, and the hustle and bustle was starting to be a little much for him.

“You don’t get tired of it?” Dean asked, gesturing to the out there beyond them. “The, uh…the lights, the noise, all the people?”

Sam picked his head up from his paperwork to consider the question. “No, I like it. Keeps my mind busy, and…I guess it makes me feel alive, you know?”

Dean supposed he could understand that, so he nodded.

Sam wasn’t fooled though. He thought he could tell what was running through his brother’s head, watching him fidget, and turn his head a bit sharply when a bus honked loudly outside the office’s glass doors as it thundered past.

It had only been two months since the end of the war. Two months since he and Dean met back in their family home in Lawrence, Kansas after three years fighting on two different fronts, in two different countries.

Both of them had enlisted, but Sam had spent most of his time in London while he was deployed, helping British Intelligence. Dean had clawed his way out of Normandy, and later, out of the Ardennes—the last offensive before the end.

Their experiences might as well have been worlds apart, but one thing remained the same: it had been three years in which neither brother knew if they’d see each other again.

Now, Sam saw the signs. Dean seemed a bit jumpy, overstimulated, but willing to be here to spend a little more time with Sam before he went back home. Guilt prickled in Sam’s gut. 

“I’ve got some work here to finish up, but afterwards let’s go to dinner,” he suggested. “Maybe see a show?”

Dean’s lips flickered at a smile. “You’re burning both ends of the candle. You know that, right?”

Sam opened his mouth to reply, when there was a knock on one of the glass doors—at the entrance to the small building. Their heads turned, and through the open door of his office, they spotted you standing there in the evening light. You wore a wide-brimmed hat on your head and a scarf underneath, wrapped over your hair and under your chin to shield your face. You knocked again with a hand covered by a leather glove, more persistently.

Cocking his head in confusion, Sam stood from his desk and left the room to let you in. Dean hung back and sat on the corner of the desk to wait. He withdrew a cigarette from the pack and a lighter from his pocket as he did so, but he heard you talking with his brother by the door.

“I’m sorry. We’re closed, miss,” Sam informed you.

“It’s still two minutes until closing. At least, according to my watch.”

“…Well, I suppose you’ve got me there.”

“So can I come in? I need to speak to a lawyer.”

“You sure it can’t wait until tomorrow?”

“I’m afraid it can’t, sir.” Your tone was firm, and it more than implied that you wouldn’t be moved. Sam paused then, perhaps to take a steeling breath.

“All right. Come with me, please.”

You later followed behind him through the hallway and into the office. With a lit cigarette between his fingers, his arms crossed, Dean took note of you. He subtly glanced down at your crème-colored blouse, neatly tucked into the long, burgundy skirt (with lipstick to match), your modest, classy heels, and the way you wore your hair. His brows subtly raised. He’d met quite a few girls this week, but he hadn’t seen a lady like you in quite some time.

Should’ve shaved this morning. The thought was accompanied by the way he swiped a subtle hand over his prickly chin.

You gave him a cursory glance in turn, and offered a polite, “Hello.”

He stood from the desk and switched his cigarette to his other hand, so he could shake yours.

“Hey there. Dean Winchester,” he said. He offered a smile with no small amount of charm. “Pleased to meet you…”

You dutifully gave him your first name only. He found that a little strange, but you soon slipped your hand out of his and focused on the nameplate on the desk, followed by Sam himself.

“So you’re brothers,” you realized. “Do you work together?”

Dean scoffed. “Nope, I’m just here to distract him.”

Sam tossed him a sidelong glance. There was a subtle edge of bitter truth in there somewhere, and you didn’t seem to miss it. You looked between the two men, a hint wary.

“Well, as I said, I’m here to speak to the solicitor,” you said. 

“That would be me,” Sam nodded. He went to his desk and sat down behind it, gesturing for you to do the same in front of him. You obliged him, smoothing your hands down your skirt once you were seated. “How can I help you?”

You met his eyes with a directness that surprised him a little.

“I want to divorce my husband,” you said.

To say it shocked the room would be an understatement. Behind you, Dean gave his brother a pair of raised brows. Sam didn’t allow himself to react too much in order to remain professional, but he still tilted his head, blinking, before he focused on you again.

“What’s your husband’s name?” he asked.

“Michael. Michael Milligan.”

“Why do you want a divorce, Mrs. Milligan?” 

Here, your gaze fell to the folded hands in your lap. 

“I have reason to believe he’s been unfaithful,” you quietly replied.

Once again, there was a pregnant pause.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Sam said. His sympathy was genuine, because he could see the way you’d hesitated to say the words, like they embarrassed you, shamed you, and saddened you all at once. 

“But I have to ask,” he added, “do you have proof?”

Dean glanced his way, his brow raising once again. Sam knew what he was thinking, just as he saw how you frowned as well. But there was a reason why he asked, and it wasn’t to be unkind.

You sighed. “What kind of proof?” 

“Pictures. Letters. A witness. Something of legal standing that we can use as leverage and as grounds to grant you a divorce, whether he wants it or not,” Sam said. 

You let out another heavy breath through your nose. “No, I don’t have anything like that.”

“Then what makes you so sure he’s steppin’ out?” Dean chimed in. By now he was leaning against the wall, off to the side where he could smoke with the window cracked open. It let in the sounds of cars and distant honking, people traversing the sidewalks. 

You turned in your seat to give him a tight look. “If you must know, there’ve been…signs. I won’t trouble you with the details, but I’m sure.”

You met Dean’s gaze, and then Sam’s firmly. 

“So will you help me?” you asked him. Sam nodded.

“Yes, I’ll look into your husband and try to find some evidence of his…extracurricular affairs.”

Your lips pursed. “And how long will it take?”

Since you were being so direct, Sam levelled you with honesty.

“It may take time,” he said. “Realistically, we’re looking at months, even after I find what we need… It would be easier to legally separate.”

You had been slowly deflating the more he spoke, but now your expression became stony.

“Mr. Winchester,” you began. “I don’t want to just be separated. I don’t want to live in our apartment, let alone share his bed or wear his last name.”

Despite your best efforts, your voice began to shake. Tears welled up and stung in your eyes.

“I don’t want anything from him, other than his signature on the damn papers,” you said. “The case is that I can no longer tolerate that man in my sight, much less in my life. Will you help me? Or should I look for another lawyer who will actually do his job.”

Sam and Dean shared a glance. For his part, Dean couldn’t remember the last time he heard a woman curse. Despite your outburst, the tears clinging to your lashes stirred both men.

“I understand, Mrs. Milligan,” Sam said. “I’ll help you. Don’t worry.”

He began to look for his handkerchief, but you retrieved one of your own from your purse and quickly dabbed at your eyes, sniffling. You were embarrassed.

“What about your fee?” you said, withdrawing your checkbook. “I, um…I have a little money stashed away. I’ve always worked, you see.”

Sam nodded and went over what his rate would be going forward. Once the two of you came to an agreement, you signed the first check right then and there, even though he felt bad for even taking it from you.

You were still sniffling, and twice you dabbed under your eyes to make sure your face was dry. When you handed over the check, your hands shook, just a little. Sam wouldn’t tell you that he discounted his usual rate.  

Again, he mentioned that he would need some time first to investigate your husband and begin collecting evidence for your case. He asked you for any documents you could safely bring him of your finances, for example. You agreed to do an investigation of your own.

“Just be careful,” Dean cautioned. He was getting an idea of what kind of man your husband was, but Dean couldn’t be too sure of what the man was capable of. He’d hate to hear of a girl like you getting hurt over a few papers.

Dean put out the bud of his cigarette on the ashtray lying on the windowsill. He pushed off the wall to approach where you and Sam were getting to your feet. You gave Dean a nod of acknowledgement.

“I will,” you agreed. “Thank you both. I’m sorry I’ve taken up so much of your time, but I’ll be heading home now.”

“Did you take a bus or a taxi?” Sam asked.

“Oh, I walked,” you replied, and you checked your watch as you gathered up your purse. You headed for the coatrack, but Dean got there first, helping you into your beige wool coat. It went nicely with the burgundy you had on, namely on your painted lips.

“Thank you,” you said to him, but you still didn’t smile. You were a hint demurer now. It seemed with Sam’s promised help, the fire had dimmed behind your eyes and your tongue.

“How about I give you an escort, make sure you get home okay?” Dean found himself offering. “It’s getting pretty late on a Friday.”

Sam shot him a knowing look, but Dean ignored him, instead focusing on your face.

You hesitated. “It’s a bit far though. Out of your way, I’m sure.”

“All the more reason that you shouldn’t go it alone at this time of night,” he argued.

You considered his offer, and him, with a quick perusal. You seemed to be judging for yourself if he was trustworthy. Dean kept his posture straight, yet relaxed. Maybe he’d liked what he saw the moment he took you in, but after hearing your situation, he felt for you. It really was just an honest offer to walk you home.

“Where did you serve?” you asked. “The Army, the Navy, or the Air Forces?”

The question took him off guard for a beat, but he answered you.

“The Army,” he replied.

“Your rank?”

“I was a sergeant, ma’am.”

You looked at him a little more shrewdly, then you relaxed.

“I might’ve guessed,” you said. “All right, Sergeant. Let’s go then.”

You buttoned up your coat and turned to leave the office. Dean shot his little brother a raise of his brows and a what do ya know? kind of smile. He grabbed his dark brown jacket and hat and followed you out.

Sam’s smile was more reserved, with a shake of his head. He closed the door behind you and Dean and locked it. He still had some work he wanted to finish before tomorrow, and Dean’s little show of chivalry would give him time to do it.

Dean had his hands in his coat pockets as he walked with you down the long city sidewalk. Night had drawn into the November sky, but with all these lights, he couldn’t see many stars. It was also cold as all hell. The frigid wind slapped at him every time they turned the corner of a building, snapping right into his bones.

Still, he supposed there was a kind of attractiveness to the city at night. The stores and their signs were all lit up gold and other neon colors. Couples and families walked together, all done up nice for wherever dinner reservation or movie they were trying to get to. It begged the question of what your husband was doing right now if he didn’t notice his wife out at this time of night.

“Where’s your husband tonight, if I might ask?” said Dean.

You shot him a look, reading between his lines.

“He claims to be working late virtually every night of the weekdays,” you said, “but he usually comes home stinking of alcohol.” Your eyes dimmed, even with the pretty lights shining in them. “He was in the Army as well. A corporal. He’s had a hard time adjusting to being back home, and I know that… He doesn’t sleep very well. And do you know, he had a hard time finding work for a while too. Luckily, he has his father’s business to fall back on.”

Dean tried not to show how much your words resonated with him. He didn’t think it a good thing to have common ground with your husband, if he was the kind of man you said he was.

“Yeah? What’s his business?” he asked.

“He manages a meat production plant, of all things,” you said.

“Ah, located in the Meat Packing District, I presume?”

“You’d presume right.”

Dean nodded. “I get it. I inherited the family home back in Lawrence. I just need to figure out what’s next.”

“Lawrence?”

“Kansas.”

“Oh, the Midwest,” you inclined your head. “What’s it like there?”

Dean scoffed. “Dusty.”

You almost laughed at that. At least it earned him your first smile of the night.

“Do you have an idea of what you’ll do for work?” you asked.

Dean chuckled. “Not just yet. Didn’t plan that far, you know?”

“Why not?” you asked.

“Hmm. Guess I didn’t see the point,” he replied with a mild shrug. It hid a deeper, darker well inside him. The part of him that hadn’t thought he’d make it back home after the war.  

You turned to him then, and you saw it behind his eyes. The two of you walked in silence for a little while as the neighborhood blocks began to shift and change, becoming somewhat quieter, more residential. Dean put himself between you and the sidewalk when a taxi zoomed by too close to the curb, resting a hand on the small of your back for protection.

Part of you trilled inside at the small touch, but you immediately beat that reaction down. Dean Winchester was an attractive man, to be sure. His hair was a lighter brown than his brother’s, and shorter too. He had an air of roguishness about him, even though he’d been perfectly pleasant so far.

But by the way he eyed you when you came into the law office, you had a strong feeling he was a flirt. You had no room for that in your life, and not only because you were still a married woman.

Yet, there was something about him that…well, made you curious.

“I was a nurse,” you said eventually, earning his attention. “I was there when they liberated Paris.”

Dean turned to you with newfound interest lighting his green eyes. “You were at Normandy.”

You nodded. “For a while. Almost a year before D-Day.”

Dean let out a short, if humorless chuckle, running a hand through his hair.

“Well, that’s where I was. At that time, at least,” he said. You gave him a similar look; respect, and perhaps finding a kindred spirit.

“I did what I could do before, during, and afterwards,” you said. “I think that’s all we can do now, Mr. Winchester.”

“Call me Dean,” he said. “If you like.”

A second smile almost tugged at your lips. You nodded in agreement.

“Dean,” you said.

In another ten minutes, he was walking you up to your porch at your apartment building. You travelled up the four small steps, while Dean stopped at the second one. For the first time, you had the vantage point above him as you turned on your heel to face him. You were about to thank him when he shook his head, scoffing.

“This guy must be dumb, deaf, and blind, sweetheart,” he said.

Your face warmed in a blush, and you gave a rueful smile when you realized what he meant. He was looking up at you like someone who couldn’t understand your plight. You knew the feeling.

“That’s kind of you, but you don’t have to do that,” you said.  

His brows furrowed. “Do what?” 

“Try to make me feel better,” you said, scuffing the toe of your sensible heels against the brick platform. Dean crossed his arms. 

“Why not?” he asked.

“Because the fact of the matter is, Sergeant, words don’t move me anymore.” You picked up your gaze from the ground, and you met his. “Flattery is just a pretty way of lying, and I’ve grown to really, truly hate lying.” 

It took him a moment, but Dean nodded.

“I guess that’s fair,” he said. He had to stop himself before he proved your point with a smart word on your pretty smile. Although, it wouldn’t have been a lie. He tipped his hat up. “Goodnight then, Mrs. Milligan.” 

You stopped him from leaving with just your voice. 

“Please,” you said, your eyes briefly closing. “Just…call me by my name. My first name.” 

Dean slowly smiled. “Perfect. I like your name better anyway.” 

This time, your smile in return was genuine, if tinged with amusement. 

“Goodnight, Dean,” you replied.

He gave you a charming grin and a more casual soldier’s salute. Then he stuck his hands back in his pockets, turned on his heel, and began to walk back the way he came. You couldn’t help but watch him go for a second or two. His legs were slightly bowed under his slacks, you noticed.

With a blush, you shook your head to rid yourself of those silly thoughts. You closed the door.

That night, Michael came home late, as usual—this time at two in the morning. He reeked of alcohol, also per usual, but this time when he rolled over towards you in bed to say goodnight, you stiffened. He also smelled like a woman’s perfume. Expensive stuff. 

This was one of those signs you hadn’t wanted to tell Sam Winchester. Frankly, it was crude and embarrassing.

“Sorry it’s so late, darling. Got held up,” he said, kissing your shoulder through your nightgown. His fingers played with the ends of your hair while you laid facing away from him.

You squeezed your eyes shut. You were fighting every instinct you had inside you that wanted to recoil from his touch and bolt out of the bed. When just a few months ago, his touch was all you craved, almost desperately so. 

“Where were you?” you asked. Somehow, you kept your voice steady and calm. “You weren’t at the office all this time.”

“Had a couple of drinks with the guys after,” he said with a shrug. “Sorry. The night got away from us, but, uh…I’ll be home on time for dinner tomorrow.”

With your back turned to him, you were able to roll your eyes.

“What’d you make tonight, outta curiosity?” he asked.

“Egg salad sandwiches,” you replied flatly. 

“Hmm. No real loss there then.” 

Your teeth clenched. “If I thought you were actually going to be home when you said you would, maybe I would make a rump roast with all the fixings.” 

Michael paused, but then, he grasped your shoulder, slowly turned you around in the bed until you were facing him. His face was sterner. 

“Excuse me?” 

You remained quiet. Your gaze travelled downwards, avoiding his.

Michael huffed, shaking his head. “Sometimes you got a real mouth on you. One of these days, you just might regret it.” 

He turned his back on you, laying on his side. You did the same while trying to stem your tears.

When did this become your life?

AN: Oof, sorry for all that angst at the end there, but I hope you liked the first chapter! Did you enjoy soldier!Dean and soldier/lawyer!Sam? Do you want to find a dark alley for Michael yet? 😅

And are you ready for what's coming up next? 😘

Next Time:

Dean both could and couldn’t believe it. He might not have been a saint himself when it came to the fairer sex, but if he went through the whole ordeal of marrying one, let alone a straight-shooting woman like you, beautiful, clever…

“Geez,” he muttered. “He could’ve at least waited until the ink dried on the certificate.” 

Sam nodded in agreement. He picked up the receipt to the Cotton Club, and he shot his brother a grin.

“Wanna go to the club tonight?”

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[connorsui]

Hi love, how are you? Hope you're having a great day.

(idk if this is an ask or just a yap session, so feel free to ignore it!)

Loved the sylus fluff btw! Now it just leaves me thinking what it would be like if MC also likes spoiling and taking care of him. Would they fight over that role? or would he fully submit himself and let her take care of him?

My take:

They'd constantly try to outdo each other. Sylus would protest at first, but eventually, he'd cave in.

I can see him melting under her care, he's not used to being taken care of. It’s a rare sight for others, but MC gets to see the soft, vulnerable side of him when he actually relaxes and lets himself be spoiled.

.

My beloved, I'm having a wonderful day 🩷 and your thoughts have just made it ten times better✨️ I was not about to ignore this when you present me with an image so pretty it would rival all my future thoughts for the upcoming hours

Like ... trying to ...win? ...an affection war against sylus? ...oh, your take is fantastic because you would not be able to win

But you can fight it!

Like, Sylus would definitely not allow you to win a war he had already mastered? —especially not one where he could shower you with affection, surround you with the finest luxury, and ensure your every desire was met before you even had the chance to even voice it.

If anything, if you were going to take care of him? ... then he was going to outdo. you.... at every turn.

Whatever the cost.

If you brought him breakfast in the morning, he’d make sure yours was already waiting���steam curling in the air before you could even open your mouth to announce you had prepared his first meal of the day. If you reached to fix his tie? ... his fingers would catch yours, slow and deliberate, until he was the one adjusting yours instead.

He fought back with playful precision, always one step ahead of you!

But you will always be patient, watching him closely, waiting for the moment he’d let his guard slip, for the rare instance he’d be too distracted to playfully fight against you. Just one opening—that was all you needed to finally treat him the way he treated you every single day.

And to think all of this started because of the gifts.

Every purse, every shimmering piece of jewelry, every luxurious accessory, every dress adorned with price tags that bore numbers the average person couldn't even fathom. It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful—how could you not be?—but the sheer weight of it all had begun to gnaw at you.

Not because you didn’t appreciate what he did for you.

No...

But because you felt as if you had never given enough in return.

However, I could definitely see a little rare slip of an opportunity waiting for you!

Especially how his movements were starting to get slower, his gaze getting heavier with a subtle shift of his posture. Sylus didn’t argue, didn’t tease, didn’t try to play his usual games. Instead, he would let you lead him, as if in some strange moment in the "fight" he was letting you finally take care for him.

When you gently began removing his clothes, the quiet surrender in his movements struck you. He’d never let anyone take control of him—except you. You could feel the weight of the day on his shoulders as you carefully undid the buttons of his shirt, your fingers brushing against his skin. There was no teasing this time, no sarcasm in his voice.

"You’re going to spoil me now?" he murmured, voice soft, almost tired.

You smiled. "Just let me take care of you, Sylus."

And he let you.

With gentle hands, you guided him into the steaming bath, the water rising just enough to relax his stiff muscles. The scent of lavender and calming oils filled the air as you slowly began to massage his scalp, working your fingers through his silvery hair, feeling the tension melt away with every touch.

His smile was small, but it reached his eyes. The kind of smile that only appeared when he was with you—safe, loved, and finally allowing himself to be vulnerable.

And that was your victory.

consui unedited

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

Cold - A Javier Peña Drabble

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader Rating: E. I cannot emphasize this enough. E. I have to go hide actually. Unprotected p in v, oral (m & f receiving), big phat breeding kink, mentions of birth control. Word Count: 1695 a/n: This started with a tweet, then transitioned to art, then became whatever this is after I spent way too long staring at Javier Pena's face. Lord help me.

You wished you were still in Columbia, back where you could spend your nights lounging with only a thin sheet and Javier's arm draped across your frame instead of the multitude of blankets currently weighing you down and the thick sweatshirt you stole from his closet. Even Texas wasn't supposed to be this cold, but here you were, shivering like you were still in your childhood home where white winters were commonplace and the public's definition of freezing averaged at twenty below.

"I'm cold," you complain to your husband, your face barely visible amidst the cocoon he'd nestled you into when he rose for the morning.

Javier turns, looking like he's immune to the temperature as he stares at you with his slacks still unbuttoned, leaving you the perfect line of sight to the coarse hair that disappears into the dark fabric. "You have like four blankets on," he teases, grabbing a t-shirt from the drawer and smirking when you frown.

You bury further into the blankets in question, trying to hold in the whimper that threatens to escape when he pulls the shirt down over the warm skin you'd like to still be huddled against. "Will you please come back to bed?"

"I was already late on Tuesday," he reminds you, reaching for one of his dress shirts and haphazardly pulling it from its hanger. He shrugs it over his shoulders, buttoning it despite your obvious disappointment.

"But I'm cold."

He puts on his tie instead of responding, looping it around his neck and mechanically going through the motions he's repeated nearly every morning since the two of you returned to his hometown.

"Please, Javier?" you try again, your tone nearing pleading territory. "I'm freezing."

"Cariño," he returns, equally stubborn as the knot tightens around his neck.

The silence that hangs between you then is palpable, with tension thick enough to cut with a knife, so you deliver what you hope will be the final blow just as he turns to the bedroom door. "You wouldn't leave the mother of your future children to freeze to death, would you?"

He stills.

Bingo.

It wasn't that kids were out of the question for you, but rather that it wasn't something you'd ever thought he wanted. Not when he's never lacked reasons as to why children weren't in the cards. That is, until you overheard his conversation with Chucho the night before.

"He's been dropping hints with me, too," you explain, because it's true. His father has been making off-handed comments about how much he'd love to see kids scampering around the ranch and how he isn't getting any younger.

Something must short-circuit in Javi's brain at the thought though, because you can see the shift is his posture. The momentary contemplation of whether he should give into your plea and face the inevitable conversation that will come with it or if he should continue on as though he hadn't heard you and never bring it up again. If he was the same Javier as the man you first met in Bogota, he'd choose the latter.

But that's not the Javier standing in front of you now.

He turns, his tie off before his knees even hit the bed. His shirt is half unbuttoned by the time he's close enough to pull the blankets back from your body, revealing your trembling frame, although it's difficult to determine if the way you shudder is because of the cold or a result of the wanting look in his eyes. The room already feels warmer, despite the way he tugs the sweatshirt off your frame with ease.

When he reaches for his belt, you're quick to stop him, silently commanding him to allow you to slowly undo the buckle, then the button, and to drag the zipper down slowly. Javi usually isn't a patient man, not when it comes to this and certainly not when it comes to you, but for once he seems to revel in watching you pull his aching cock from his slacks and carefully trail your tongue along the length of it.

From your position on the bed, knees digging into the plush mattress as you lean over the side, he has the leverage he needs to guide your mouth to his tip. Spurred on by the groan he lets out as you wrap your lips around him, you increase the pace, working his length carefully. It's only when you reach your hand up to join the effort that he hisses.

"Fuck, Cariño, your fingers are freezing." You think he's going to stop you, but he doesn't, his warm hand wrapping over yours to encourage your motions. It's only when you need to come up for air that he lets you sit back, crowding into your space and forcing you back against the bed.

Prior to this moment, you fear you've severely underappreciated the importance of body heat, especially with the way your husband is basically a furnace. The smooth panes of his chest feel hot to the touch as they press you into the sheets, his lips shifting down your body and encasing you in the fever of the moment. He's pulled the plush comforter back over you both, ensuring you have it clutched up to your shoulders as he moves lower, settling with his body buried beneath the blankets and his head between your thighs.

The stripe he licks through your folds feels counterproductive though, the action sending another shiver up your spine. Usually, when he has his nose pressed against your clit and his tongue is lapping up your release, your hands are buried in his dark hair, but it's all you can do now to cling to the edge of the blanket, fists tight in the fabric as he races you to toward the edge.

Not that it's difficult for him.

You're barely aware of the way he's crawling back up your body and easing into you in what feels like a singular motion, mind still hazy from your first fading orgasm. He stills once he's buried to the hilt, already looking wrecked, and you figure he probably is with how your walls are still clenching around him. It's always been a tight fit, but this morning, with the way he has you entirely surrounded by his warmth, you're certain you can feel every inch.

"Tell me you meant that," he commands, lips trailing down your jawline and to the spot behind your ear that he knows will get you to say anything. "Tell me you want me to fuck a baby into you."

When you don't respond, it's his fingers on your bundle of nerves that has you keening, his second attempt at the request quickly followed by the answer spilling from your lips. "Yes! Fuck, Javi, I want to make you a Daddy." Much to your dismay, he pauses, his fingers leaving your clit to grab one of the pillows next to your head, snaking it beneath the blanket and lifting your hips from the mattress to settle it beneath them. It changes the angle, the thick patch of hair you'd admired earlier rubbing against you with each new thrust.

It's not cold in the room anymore, certainly not beneath the blankets as he rocks into you. "I'm gonna fuck my cum so deep, Cariño."

"I'm still on the pill," you remind him breathlessly, your half numb mind finally catching up with the reality that he likely can't get you pregnant, not this time at least, but he obviously doesn't care.

"Fuck," he grunts. "I'm gonna hide those fucking pills the second I'm done with you," he assures you, large hands grabbing at your hips and pulling back so the blankets cascade around him. "Then I'm gonna crawl back into this bed and fuck you until it takes."

Your body is again exposed to the cool air of the bedroom, but you don't particularly notice. You're too far gone to care, but he's even closer, his hips stuttering in an uneven pattern until all you can feel is warmth. The heat of his sticky skin against yours when he collapses on top of you, the intensity of his release filling you, and the fury of your climax as it washes over your entire body.

It takes a minute for him to recover, pulling from you with a loud groan. You try to move with him, but he stills you with a hand to your stomach, pressing down for just a moment and ordering you to stay while he crawls from the blankets and tucks you back in. A wave of disappointment appears in your chest as you watch him retreat to the bathroom, but it's the grin on his face when he returns a moment later that has you laughing.

"You didn't."

Javi sneaks back in beside you, the damp cloth he'd brought with him from the bathroom set aside on the table next to the bed. "What? What did I do?" he asks innocently, even as his fingers find their way back to your center, gathering his spend to push it back in. The action makes you hiss and, for a moment, you forget your questioning, too distracted by how his fingers curl inside you and the way he's whispering in your ear. "Can't waste a drop."

"Javier," you groan in a way that has you both unsure if you're scolding him or praising him, but he seems to settle a moment later, reaching for the cloth and cleaning the remainder of his mess from between your thighs. "Did you actually hide my pills?" you ask, more coherent now than before.

He responds with a kiss to your cheek, tossing the washcloth to the side and wrapping his arms back around you. "I'm gonna call out today," he murmurs against your skin. When you open your mouth to inquire again, you're cut off by the force of his lips against your own, his smile evident as he leans into you. "After all," he pulls back, "now that you're out of birth control pills, it would be neglectful of me to leave the mother of my children to freeze."

[sapphoherselz]

I can pretend i dont feel it but the need to make stupid silly fake tweets about aftg is well and alive inside me.....code and mill...if you're reading this...this is yall's fault.............................that being said I'm projecting my future period cramps onto neil, a lot of DAviDism that honestly came out of nowhere and that one date that I hope it'd accurate cause I went on an internet search istg................ALSO very canonical jeaneil convos in the nest trust me I was there

[bioniczombie]

Another update on Sarah.

Sarah has been feeling noticeably better. She even played a bit with me last night. She's also been very good about taking her medications. I have noticed she's been unable to meow now that she's feeling better (she's usually very talkative). I've already contacted the vet (I'm still waiting to hear back), but I am hoping it'll get better with time as I know she was quite inflamed in that area on her x-rays. Unfortunately she is unable to take anti-inflammatories due to CKD (chronic kidney disease), but we had some good news with that. When we got her blood tests back, her kidney values were in normal range so her strict diet has been working.

This will probably be the last update but I want to stress how incredibly grateful we are for all of your support. I am hoping to pay back the generosity you've all shown us in the future when our finances are in a better place, whether that ends up being donating to someone else in need, or to a local rescue. Again, thank you! <3

I never thought I would have to ask for help but our oldest kitty had an emergency over the last few days, and had to be seen by an urgent care vet. If you can help, even by sharing, I would appreciate it so much.

https://gofund.me/6c3d3757

[mysteryanimator]

Breaking down "Even the Iron Still Fears the Rot" (almost) shot by shot!

The fan-animatic can be viewed here!

HEADS UP: This is a fan-made content. I am a fan. I just love Castlevania/animation a lot and I love storyboarding nuances and making people cry over character dynamics. Also apologises for any grammatical/spelling mistakes!

I wasn't planning to do another breakdown of my own work, simply due to imposter syndrome but I genuinely put so much love and care into this animatic! I want to talk about it! Also, people have been really open to hearing about my inspiration and notes, and why I take the directions I do for my work, even if it's fan-made, so here we go!

(Also the reciprocation of my animatics has been so kind and uplifting, and I'm really glad that there's a lot of love for them as much as I love doing them! I learn and grow with every single board I make, it's been really fun! I hope I get to shine this much passion in the future in actual work!)

Since this is also an adaptation of a fan one-shot by Aquila, (which you can read here!) I knew I wanted to evoke what they had written and interject some of my own nuances/personal readings to their story to elevate what they had! In turn, kind of created this monster (positive) of a fan creation haha. There are some changes/rearranging the placement of aspects of the one-shot to strengthen the existing tension going on!

With this out the way, let's begin!

(heads up, for any shots I completely skip over, it is because I'm reaching image limits here)

I wanted to evoke that strong halo light you see in a lot of media. Often than not, this visual is used to depict the character as a divine force of nature and/or when a character is bobbing in and out of death. It can also be a very very terrifying image, as, for example, s02e8, Mizrak is literally all dark with a brightly lit background. It is scary- BUT people will say hot because it's Mizrak but hey, look, all I can say is I fully understand haha. It all depends on your intentionality and what follows before and after to give context to your scene!

Mizrak is dead. Well, undead now. Olrox is the so-called angel giving him life and love and this halo of light gets repeated a few times!

By the end, not only do their literal positions switch, but their roles shift too so I hoped to convey that visually by also giving Mizrak that halo glow for the second last shot. At the start, Olrox consumes Mizrak’s love, and then it ends with Mizrak consuming Olrox’s love. Guh I love blood themes in vamprisim.

This shot honestly took me a bit to do, since I was going a lot cleaner than usual, the expression for Mizrak was super important for me to get right. I wanted him to look like he was about to die- yet still have an unwavering amount of life in him. (Also I hadn't warmed up drawing in this cleaned-up style so it definitely was me messing around). It was important for me for this to feel like a POV shot to contrast the first scene so we can get inside the mind of Olrox!

This too is where I only have sound effects since I can't have voice so I limit my SFX to the only most vital things to elevate things I personally find better elevate the scene with audio. It only happens TWICE. The heartbeat. His wrist is shown and from context clues from not only S01 of Nocturne with Tera's turning, but a whole bunch of other vampire media- the wrist is a place where the dead accept their new life of immortality!

Also, the pulse effect was definitely inspired by the transformation of Sekmet! I'm not sure personally if this went to a further stage I'd want to keep this since I'd personally want something more unique for vampire turning, more specifically for Olrox, HOWEVER, I think it still does a good job conveying the supernatural pull for the time being!

Wow who saw this coming HAHA

Immediately when I saw the line where Olrox said he went to straddle him immediately, my mind went to go and try to parallel this scene again! I don't have much to say about this shot rather than the feet are purposefully cut out for animation convenience's sake HAHA.

Jumpscare for sudden Olrox character layout (even though he's really off model and sketchy here HAHA)

I was again, wanting to depict Olrox BATHED in light and since this animatic is purely in greyscale (with accents of colour), I could really push for dramatic lighting when it called for it! This is also why some of the scenes just do not have backgrounds at all. I wanted to make some of the scenes as "heavenly" as possible and for Mizrak to be embraced by the light because Olrox is giving him a new a life.

If this were to ever be animated (I won't be since it would take too much of my time, but it's still a good thing to note when boarding anything... maybe I'll do cleaned screenshots since those are a breeze, or animate ONE scene from this animatic... we'll see what I have time for. I unfortunately don't have proper time to try and figure out the layout of s02e8 bgs and paint them. I did consider quickly doing a 3d mock-up but no haha), the light in the background can probably be lit with candles since it was already pre-established in s02e8! Also, the windows can reflect light into the room so there's that too since Mizrak was backlit in that episode too!

Fun fact, this entire scene was the first thing I ever thought up and why I started even making it. I thought about how cool of a visual it would be to have Mizrak's eye in the reflection.

I wanted to imbue the fact that Mizrak does not fear Olrox holding a blade, hell, he's not even looking at the blade. He's looking at Olrox. What is described as a relic from a terrifying past, Mizrak is not scared. Mizrak is not scared of Olrox.

This is where the heartbeat occurs AGAIN. This is mostly to signal to the audience what Olrox actually has planned. He's not feeding Mizrak from his wrist but from his actual chest, especially with how gently Olrox runs his hands over it.

I debated a lot on where the initial cut should go. The heart, for sentimentality, under the breast in the same way Christ had been pierced, etc etc- however I landed on just dead set in the middle so it could form a cross that would grow bigger and bigger as the animatic went on. (Fun fact, the blob of blood turns into a little heart as he squeezes his chest)

I wanted to put some weight to the repressed catholic guilt, so I thought a cool visual way to showcase that Mizrak has only known how to love is via worshipping God which has consumed his entire being and self. God has given him faith, a companion in the hardest of times when the world has abandoned him.

Now, once again, his world has abandoned him. The Hospitaller Order of Saint John of God is gone. In the face of death and fearing the devil will be waiting. Olrox has given him love, and he will be a companion in the hardest of times. He will not abandon Mizrak.

This aspect of the cross in the animatic gets expanded upon as time goes on. Both literally as the cross literally turns into a pool of blood more closely to the symbol Mizrak bares, but also it slowly expands upon Mizrak feeding off Olrox's love! I'll add some more of my personal notes when we get there!

Also by far one of my favourite scenes I've drawn. It's still rough but it decidedly made me go a lot cleaner with the rest of the storyboard!

This is supposed to be suddenly jarring because it cuts midway through Olrox in a midshot to a close-up of a hand! We need to see him actively halt Olrox for just a moment, but also to show that even when it's sudden- its not hostile, it's gentle.

This shot does a couple of things!

It showcases how gently Mizrak is reaching out to Olrox

It helps to continually establish Mizrak submission to vampirism. He is constantly placed on the bottom from the composition, or we as an audience, are always looking down at Mizrak! Seeing parts of Olrox here really cements this fact as Olrox towers over him to the point we don't even see him fully!

It helps to lead into the Fallen Angel reference!

This shot makes me sob because it is so gentle. Despite being placed constantly much higher in the composition in the animatic, therefore making him the most powerful in this dynamic- in no way Olrox is intentionally made out to be an intimidating figure. He is comfort. He is a companion. He will not abandon Mizrak. The act of turning Mizrak might be read as selfish. It may be read as cheating the natural cycle of life, it may be everything wrong and doomed as your mind makes it to be, however, it is done out of love. Morals, whether good or bad, no longer matters because Olrox is in love. Love has such a strong chokehold on this series, so I'm shoving as much love into these characters as I can. Both literally make these characters so sickly desiring love that it will be their doom and saving grace, but also me as an artist deeply putting love and thought into this board because care a lot about how to convey these complex emotions! Sure it is quite easy to churn out boards without care, but without putting care into your boards, your characters and stories lack life (in my personal opinion).

Immediately, this animatic shook me and told me to put in a reference to The Fallen Angel by Alexandre Cabnel!

Also, how does one portray the soul? EYES. Eyes are the window to the soul. Mizrak’s eyes are also considerably the most important/crucial part of his design. His eyes in both seasons ‘glow in the dark’ due to the highlights in his eyes. Mizrak is considerably really emotive too and that was important to me to emphasize. I wanted to capture his essence, his soul if you will, into this shot.

This is also why this shot is done really prettily if you will.

The reflection of Olrox's eye in Mizrak's is important here! Olrox is here to act to comfort Mizrak. Even when Olrox is not on the screen with us, he is majorly present here. He will not abandon Mizrak. Also, since it is coupled with this line, people can choose to infer what they wish with Olrox! It can symbolize Olrox does have a soul, it can symbolize how Olrox and Mizrak are now intertwined together, it can symbolize Mizrak reciprocating Olrox's love. The list can go on! I give that room for open interpretation (same as the rest of the animatic, the only reason I'm going through, breaking down almost shot by shot is that I deeply care about this sort of thing, and I know other people do too!)

This shot, is deceptively simple but it's here to actually initiate a bunch of scenes I wanted to happen after this!

Firstly, I needed a very nonchalant but easy way for Olrox to let go of Mizrak's hand without needing to overcomplicate. I needed something that gave it just enough importance for the hand kiss BUT not too much where it is the sole focus on the shot.

Secondly, I needed a way for Olrox to lean down to Mizrak and initiate him being way closer to him.

Thirdly, it acts to parallel another shot that happens with Mizrak where instead of going diagonally down, he goes diagonally up!

This is one of the points where I visually slightly deviate from the one-shot! I really REALLY wanted to emphasize Olrox's dialogue here so I chopped up and elongated the scene to make it that much more intense and tender. Which is why we get the next two close up shots!

Look it was very VERY important to me to have Olrox cup Mizrak's face and intentionally cut off his eyes. The important part I wanted to focus on solely was his hand and Mizrak looking up because genuinely, Mizrak's eyes are 'distracting' and it would remove the focus on the gesture! Also I am saving Mizrak's eyes for the next shot haha

After this shot too, you may notice the blood from his neck disappears for the rest of the animatic. This is because, after this, it began to take too much of a visual focus away from the blood on Olrox's chest since it is bright red against greys in the shot. We can chalk it up to Olrox wiping the blood off when he goes to cup him.

"The most beautiful soul a vampire can posses."

It was so important to me that we get a BEAUTIFUL shot of Mizrak. I needed the audience to see his entireeee face close up, unobscured by anything. Olrox is holding a beautiful soul in his hands. He's holding Mizrak. Actually makes me sob.

This shot by the way has been repeated 3 times with slight variations by this point. Yes, this is a very pretty shot so how could I not help but repeat it? HOWEVER, I was trying to make a reference to how Mizrak has said Olrox's name only 3 times in the show with a variation of what was said around it. After that, Olrox calls him my love, basically unlocking a new stage in their relationship.

So here, three times when he looks at Olrox, he's mentally calling out his name. After this, Olrox brings him to a new stage in the relationship.

Also in Catholicism, a lot of things are in 3s. One of the major ones is that three times, Christ fell over carrying the cross. On the third hour of that day, he died and on the third day, he was resurrected from the dead. The three sacraments that welcome someone into the Kingdom of God are Baptism, Communion, and Confirmation as they all build off one another! I could go on both those are the main points AND I feel you might get the gist now!

It was very important to me that when Olrox makes this promise, we HAVE to see his full face. This is why it's a close-up.

It lets for no shadow of a doubt that Olrox means what he says here. He's looking AT Mizrak. He's telling the truth to him.

This is a parallel to a much earlier shot of Olrox! He moves closer to Mizrak by going from top right to bottom left, while Mizrak moves closer to Olrox by going from bottom left to top right! You also both see them exit the screen too!

In this shot, we bring back that halo vibe but also this is a reference to S01E04 and S02E08! The curtain! It is BOTH their first-ever shots to establish a new scene, so I wanted to go “Hey this is establishing a new scene- a new life for Mizrak and Olrox.”

The camera is super purposefully cut just below the eyes. You can see them open then closed, but we will never ever get to see the look he had in his eyes, the single decision in his brain that let him indulge. That’s only for Olrox, and only Olrox will know.

From here on out, A LOT of the shots of Mizrak get segmented/have his face hidden for that reason too (except for one shot, also done intentionally).

When Mizrak actually closes his lips around the blood- it’s on the growling sound in the song. Mizrak has turned into the animal that he’s been calling vampires. In this new life, he is now given the choice to be freed from the man-made shackles of shame and guilt. To be untamed and unrestricted. A wild animal so to speak!

Honestly, I spent a lot of my time here (besides the pretty Olrox frames) because I was super particular about how I wanted to portray Mizrak giving into sucking the blood. The way he accepts vampirism is vital because it sets the tone and mood for how the rest of the board feel since his face gets hidden and you now have to infer from when you saw his face last.

If you have seen my analyses or my work before, you will know how much I enjoy having a frame within a frame. I loveeee my boxes! They're in the box! TOGETHER! THE CENTER TOO! There are no real divisions with the exception of Olrox's head which is important because it's not Mizrak we're focused on at this point in time, it's Olrox~

This is because the one-shot, even in third person, is mostly through Olrox's perspective!

Also, the camera is moving around in this shot, and the following subsequent shots! It hopefully gives off the "hand-held" feel, which often is associated with feeling as if you're right there in the moment with them.

Why pillows?

This is me shaking you to say how the blood-drinking is an allusion for sex if that wasn't already obvious enough. So showing pillows coupled with Olrox groaning really goes "Yes they are technically doing it."

Originally this shot (and the previous shot) was supposed to be way more pulled out, but I was saving it for the very last shot of the animatic so I went to pillows with the tinest hint of their body in the frame to make it seem super scandalous. Like what on earth could they be doing for me to cut them mostly out of the frame? Also also, the pillow was supposed to have an embroidery of a painting from 1790s or earlier BUT, for the life of me, I could not decide what I wanted and I did not want to keep reusing the same references I have had in past work. I didn't want to fuss about it for too long since its more of an easter egg rather than adding to the story. The main point is pillow = fucking HAHA.

Side tangent, you can get away with SO MUCH by having blood drinking be an allusion to sex. Like obviously when you have an age rating you must abide by, you must be creative with how you go about mature topics (my age rating is YouTube hahaha)! Not only is blood drinking in vampirism just inherently queer-coded, but the intimacy of it can convey so much more if it was just a regular ol' sex scene! I actually deeply enjoy conveying nsfw topics into art because you can discuss character dynamics at a much more vulnerable, raw state that literally bares them to just their essence and their current desires/needs. However I am getting off-topic, let's get back to it!

This shot was actually heavily inspired by the statue Adoration by Stephen Sinding!

While there are a lot of differences now simply because Mizrak is at Olrox's chest, I still hope that the vibe of that statue is still imbued. It also gives the sense of not only Olrox adoring Mizrak in this very moment, but Mizrak is too despite not seeing his face. Again quite intentional because it's only for Olrox to see.

Also, a lot of people have been telling me how Olrox is breastfeeding him, and in technicality, they're not wrong, he's feeding blood, from his chest. It is the funniest thing ever LOL

This shot was important to really focus in on his throat and how, much like in the one-shot, Mizrak is literally not taking breaths and is just continually consuming Olrox.

Wet sounds fill the room as his throat bobs with each steady gulp...He doesn’t stop, doesn’t take a moment to gasp for breath.

I also just wanted to make this scene feel very slow in order to contrast with a much more passion-filled desire that consumes Mizrak in this animatic! Also hopefully the descent of blood and the descent of the camera helps to strengthen the idea of Mizrak descending into vampirism!

It felt really cheesy to have this close-up shot of his eye HOWEVER at the time, I thought this was by far the clearest way to convey the immediate switch from gentle devotion to devouring devotion and how suddenly rapid it is. In my brain, the stylization for his eyes open would be textured and pulse in the same way Olrox's wrist did, which is why it's just outlined. I'm once again not 100% set on the pulse look and it probably needs some iterations if I ever came back to it again.

Also, the green hearts in his eyes only come through when he's actively consuming blood from his chest! The heart motif comes back later when Mizrak ends up throwing up the blood!

Here's the cross again, except it is growing bigger. This was very important to me that you see how "gentle" the blood-sucking is at first. A gentle devotion despite the "terrifying" shadow of Mizrak. Also, super an excuse to have kiss marks in my animatic, I love painting them in my art because it can say a lot with placement and how aggressively smudged they are!

Also, I thought it would be SO FUN to have Mizrak's turned self literally have his eyes overlay where Olrox's eyes are. It conveys how Mizrak and Olrox are now switching roles in this animatic! For the first half of this animatic, Olrox has been placed pretty high up in the shot composition, or where the camera looks up to put him in a high place of power! It makes him appear way more etheral and otherworldly, while Mizrak was placed lower in the composition, always looking up at him! Which I'm hoping invokes religious imagery of a God and his worshipper/follower!

When Mizrak's transformation is set, the dynamic switches up. For the rest of the animatic, Mizrak is now placed at a more supernatural/otherwordly position, while Olrox is just there passively, letting Mizrak BE in this position. He does not fight it, he embraces it, embraces how Mizrak reciprocates his love, his desire, and all his messy complications, much like how earlier in the animatic, Mizrak embraces vampirism.

Also if you slow it down enough you can see how I accidentally left my perspective grids in it HAHA, but it goes by fast enough it doesn't really matter! (I guess it's also kind of indicative of my natural style when it comes to digital painting too, I genuinely like having my sketch still peek through into the final painting!)

Wow even more shots to cement the new role switch AND how much much of the passionate need to consume is controlling his urges! Free to consume at his leisure, he is no longer bound by human nature (for now)!

This shot and his leg shot help to really strip Mizrak of his humanity. Faces in a shot really help to connect people to the characters because we see the emote, we see them breathe, we see them live. Especially for a character like Mizrak? He's super expressive face-wise and I'm purposefully not showing you the defining features of Mizrak. Here I am basically going "Mizrak is no longer human."

This is why in horror/thrillers with antagonist characters, we don't see their faces much and are saved for only key moments (usually, again your intentionality matters). It doesn't allow us to connect with the character on a much more human level. Think of Count Orlok from Nosferatu (2024). Purposefully a lot of his character is shrouded in darkness, focusing on his hands and other aspects, never his face, and even then it is really hard to make out because so much of him is obscured. It makes him that much of an imposing intimidating character! Otherworldly and something that we cannot fully understand.

This is a flipped version of Mizrak's close-up eye shot much earlier when he asked if his soul would remain. Again to hark on how Mizrak and Olrox are switching roles in this animatic! Olrox is looking at Mizrak's soul as we speak.

Despite us not seeing Mizrak's face, we as an audience noticing how unhuman Mizrak has suddenly become, Olrox looks quite gently at him and that was important to convey!

Woo! Lot's of horizontal lines here! While the camera is moving towards the left, Mizrak is moving right!

Originally this shot was going to have Mizrak's teeth sinking into Olrox like a very cool Olrox throwing his head back and Mizrak's fang reveal HOWEVER, I want to leave the "carnage" and bloodshed of the feeding out of the frame and only have it show up in very specific moments so I can have those moments actually have their proper impacts. I did not want to show any part of the front of his face at all since it would dampen the effect later on, so I opted for this instead. The legs give a sense of "something is happening but we don't know what, but it's to a point where Mizrak's entire body is moving oh jeez." Won't lie, this looks very sexual and I'm purposefully toying with that line again because blood drinking is an allusion to sex.

Also, I'm continuing the concept of having aspects of Mizrak's face only for Olrox's eyes. What does he look like when he's actively consuming him with such passion? Idk, Olrox you tell me.

This is everything I was building up for when I introduced the small crosses! The physical manifestation of how Mizrak reciprocates.

My thought process here was that Mizrak only knows how to love by fully devoting himself because that's all he's done for God. So he applies it here. He is reciprocating love, but it is FULL ON. It is intense. It is all-consuming.

The face once again is obscured for all the reasons I have mentioned before, but also it REALLY helps to really hard cut to Mizrak choking on the blood after because before it seemed like he was doing just fine. He is literally looking DOWN at Olrox, he takes up A LOT of the screen with just his back and head. He literally gets pulled into full focus while Olrox is blurred in the background. He appears like he is in control of the situation, however it could not be further from the truth.

Also, I was mostly inspired by the insane amount of bible verses talking about blood, so I'll drop some of those here!

John 6:53-56 ESV

So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him.

Ezekiel 16:6 ESV 

“And when I passed by you and saw you wallowing in your blood, I said to you in your blood, ‘Live!’ I said to you in your blood, ‘Live!’

Matthew 26:28 ESV

"For this is my [Christ's] blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins."

Absolute contrast to most of the other shots, not only because I decided to add way more character acting here, but it's because we actually see his FULL face. It's intentional because Mizrak realizes himself now so we need to see him have this reaction. I wanted to show that he is still a person. He still has a soul. He may not be human, but he does have a mind that can think and a heart that can love. He still retains human qualities.

He's choking on all the blood (a physical manifestation of love) and his body is rejecting it. He's not used to consuming this amount of love and he's not used to being self-indulgent. It's deeply overwhelming.

I wanted to say I LOVED drawing blood it is SO FUN, planning the camera movement, and how Mizrak coughs at specific moments was sooo fun. I wanted this to be MESSY AND INTENSE. I wanted the audience to feel the weight of Mizrak's sudden distraught. I wanted to throw him around and to really hark on this line from the one-shot.

What has he done? What has been done to him? What has he become?

It helps to deeply contrast with how still and gentle the next scene is!

Yes, that is right, Olrox's pupils are DILATED :)

Coupled with the fact that the blood splatters are hearts! They're outlined in cyan! Olrox has a massive heart-shaped blood splatter on his cheek while Mizrak has a few heart-shaped splatters BUT there are gaps in his bloodied mouth that create heart shapes as if Mizrak spewed out those hearts!

Firstly this is because Mizrak literally eats at his chest where the heart is. Secondly, I'm again pushing for Mizrak to consume and throw up his love due to how overwhelming it is. Not only is Olrox's love for him literally beyond his imagination, but Mizrak is trying to love back in with that same amount of passion and utter devotion. A lot is happening for this new-born vampire that is pushing and pulling at him. His emotional state is so overwhelming that it is manifested in physical form.

The green reflections are shown to visually communicate Olrox anchoring Mizrak back, as, throughout the animatic, it is one of the things that ease or calm him down. I could not portray it through voice BUT I can portray it via visual (guys walk with me here, imagine the insane combo of audio and visual, it would be so tasty). The sole reason why I did not have hearts in his eyes here is simply because I reserved the heart motif for when he's actively drinking out of Olrox's chest (so he's literally consuming his love) or when he's spitting out the blood!

Also, the reason why I cut to his eyes rather than pan to them is purely because I wanted the violence of his mouth to be suddenly jarring to the gentleness in his eyes. I didn't want the slow reveal, I wanted the "OMG the blood- aw Mizrak...."

"Lulled into a sense of hazy compliance by Olrox’s voice, the former monk carefully lowers himself and continues though not for long."

This final shot was soooo important to me to include. The “musty inn room” was mentioned much earlier during Mizrak’s transformation but there was a poeticism by having what is considerably the blossoming moment of their complicated relationship be the final shot. With the lyrics also ending with "Take me back to Eden" how could I not? Clearly, both the rooms between s01e4 and s02e8 are parallel to each other. The only difference is that s02e8 has the room be both red AND GREEN, while s01e4 is just earthy/green. Olrox has taken them both back to their earthly paradise. This is their Garden of Eden.

Woo ok and we're done! Also yes I do thumbnails for these, it's half the reason why I'm fast (this entire animatic, cleaned and everything, was done in 3 days good lord. Is that fast? I can't tell) I make the barest of bones chicken scratch of sketches to get a feel of pace/vibe, then I do my roughs/cleans and add/take away shots necessary for the story that needs to be told. I normally would not let this see the light of day because these are AWFUL BUT, this post is also half a documentation of my personal process so I'm going to close my eyes and share this HAHA

If you got this far, thank you for reading me geek out about this! I find a lot of joy in the visual storytelling medium. As much as I do enjoy animating, (wow could you guys tell in the name?) I have a deep love and passion for storyboarding personally and I get sit back, and enjoy crafting the entire picture! I still have a long way to go but I'm having fun and I'm pursuing my passions of storytelling!

I desperately want to make more animatics, dealing with different tones, pace etc, but I genuinely have to go prioritize other things for now that will help me build these skills hahaha. I say this but who knows, seeing my current track record haha, look I can do both. I follow wherever my creativity takes me. I may have missed a few things but I have to wrap this up now!

Thank you again! The final takeaway, go watch Castlevania again and go be inspired by animation <33333

[cuppajj]

just a little heads up for future notice, since I get these from time to time - feel free to put your ocs in baau! just please try and refrain from sending them directly in my inbox...

because I don't want to give the impression that I'm someone to talk about ocs with (in the inbox), I don't usually answer them. I do feel bad though because I really like how passionate people are about their characters! But as much as I like seeing that, I would rather see them in their own individual posts. No need for me to validate your ideas whatsoever. hope this makes sense for yall

(if you really want to know if a concept is ok or possible in canon, then that is something you can either dm me about or send in my inbox in broad terms... it makes it easier for me to answer)

edit: I do know some people send stuff to me just for me to read it and not actually post, if that's your intention w/oc asks then that's fine - i would just like to know!

edit 2: I know this might not stop some people which is fine, just setting the precedent that while I read oc submissions/asks in my inbox, i am probably not going to answer them

[zsakuva]

hi saku! so about the last question you answered, do you plan on writing a book in the future ? or maybe a movie or show?

Also i would like to ask, you may have already answered , but did you do a lot of writing in high school , or even before that? i want to get into writing because its a huge part in my career choice and i never know if my writing is good or if im being blinded by delusion, but at the same time im kinda embarrassed? or maybe hesitant to show and tell people my narratives. Do you have any tips on this? I enjoy the beauty of being able to create different universes and any character to my heart’s desire, but i really don’t know where to start.

I've been writing one book since 2018, but I recently gave it a complete overhaul so I'm essentially starting from scratch. I also have another that's connected to my fantasy world, but I haven't touched that in a while. I would spend my time just writing and focusing on my novels, but alas, work takes priority.

I've been writing since I was young.

I think a lot of people can relate to that, including myself. The great thing about writing is that no matter what level you're at, there is always something to learn. If you're unsure about yourself, ask other writers you trust to read your work and offer their opinion. But always take their opinions with a grain of salt because writing is so subjective—from outlining and story beats to tenses and prose structure—and you will no doubt have your own preference.

I understand feeling embarrassed to show your work. But I always remind myself that the only person who can tell this particular story in this particular way is me. And if I don't, it'll remain an idea.

All writers hope to improve their craft, and I think the majority will welcome you because they are no doubt exactly where you are. So, my advice would be to start writing! Join a few communities, or find friends who are also writers to exchange stories. Read good books, 'bad' books, bestsellers, and debuts. The more you consume, the easier it'll be to refine the way you want to write and tell a story.

Hope this helps!

[in-a-bucket]

[Refulgence Post Mortem] OH HOW YOU HAVE WOUNDED ME IM NEVER GONNA RECOVER FROM THIS

seriously though, i'm just so devastated for ken, he sounds so drained. i am very happy that he was willing to open up to hama about kamimura, ken's been isolating himself but at least he's trying, he must have asked for hama's help with cleaning kamimura's room so i'm proud of him for trying. speaking of that, him saying he was so proud of kamimura making long term plans and have hopes and dreams for the future shattered my heart into a million pieces.

him saying "she ruined everything..." in regards to okazaki killing kamimura gave me some shivers, i don't blame him for hating her tho i would too.

but man, him wondering what the point is and how everything feels grey, it's just so dsaolk;sofkjofspjofsepjiopfjs to me. i think that even with him feeling and thinking like this, him allowing hama to help him clean out kamimura's room and tell him about kami tells me that there is still some small part of him that hasn't given up, and i'm holding on to that for dear life. just earlier that day when he was cleaning up the crime scene he refused ojima's help, but this time he let hama help out, that's a good sign i think.

there's been a lot of discussion on the server recently about ken dying this chapter as a victim or killer, cause he's making himself an easy target by isolating himself or he has no other connections besides kamimura so now he has nothing to lose and while i can't say those ideas don't come from anywhere, i really hope that's not what happens. i feel like it'd be way more interesting if gains the motivation to make new connections and try to make it out a live, so he can keep kamimura's memory alive and see his family again and find his own place in the world. that's something that's come up a lot with ken's character, that he isn't really sure what his future is gonna look like and he isn't sure what he wants to do with his life, and now with going on feeling more pointless than ever for him, i think it would be so cool to watch him develop and step outside his comfort zone and security to try and figure out what he wants for himself.

idk, i just really relate to ken in a lot of ways and find his character so interesting. i feel like there's still so much more to explore with him that i wish other tetro fans saw. idk this isn't a super coherent analysis or anything, but i feel like i can see an interesting path for ken's character to go that doesn't end with him dying this chapter or have it revolve around helping kamimura almost entirely, one of these day's i'm gonna write and actual good hasegawa ken analysis haha

[causeimcrayzeebee]

tetro back it again making me cry way too early in the morning alright lets talk about the things on my mind after this weeks episodes

first of all, (princess) Monomoko. goodness. i have really enjoyed seeing her become more and more sympathetic and aware, building her own consciousness. that really worries me about her, in the event that something could happen to her. the fact that she told seki that she cant justify the killing game anymore, and seki doesn’t really say anything about he feels. i wonder if he feels the same way. also from corrective approach, it seems like seki turned her in, but honestly is it just me or does it seem like something where kan found out on his own n seki wasn’t able to do anything about it? i mean obviously he’s still choosing to do nothing, but like i feel like it would be weird that he told on her yk? or am i just losing my mind.

ojima. oh my goodness ojima, I did not expect a lore dump, but wow. hayashi telling him that talking about it could be his chance to be strong,,, and he actually starts speaking. i really loved that hayashi was the one he told, especially considering their similarities. ojima throughout the ep was hugely impressed that she survived the year of being kidnapped and locked away, and thinking he himself as incapable of being that strong, but hayashi saying that she’s not stronger, she’s just had more practice was a key thing. ojima took that first step of saying something all those years ago, and when the people around him (his father not his brothers) blamed him of lying, he didn’t feel like he had the people to support him that he needed, thus backing away. ojima opening up again after that (and about something he’s avoided for most of his life) is HUGE. now, as he tells hayashi what happened to him, she can be part of that support system for him.

hayashi has gone through so much too. i think her story really highlights the importance of having people around you. her parents were still searching for her, and once she was actually able to escape, she had her parents back. the whole kidnapping was incredibly fucked, it’s amazing that she made it. she’s so strong and i love her, she really has stepped up to giving the rest of the cast support, just like she was by her parents.

on another note MY PARENTS [hayashigeki] ARE NO LONGER ON THE PATH TO DIVORCE!!! the fact that yanagi was so distraught and worried about restricting hayashi and being controlling just like his father, only to find out hayashi was mad at him for putting himself in danger... I really liked communication attempt, I'm so glad they actually talked. yanagi talking about long term plans though worries me..... king pls.....

speaking of long term plans, this is what got me bawling again, in refulgence post mortem. kamimura kazutoshi, the guy literally trying to kill himself just before the killing game (which I still wonder what this means for how they got the participants into the game,,, did they have to like resuscitate him??) , was thinking about going back to school to pursue his dream. he wanted to reconnect with his aunt. hasegawa saying he was proud of him really got me. kamimura had found something he wanted to do, something to strive for in the future. and then he was taken away. hasegawa's distain for okazaki is clear in this episode. they way that hasegawa talked about kamimura was full of love, both when he talked about the little things that were negative about kamimura, like how he was easily annoyed, and when he talked about how funny and kind he was. i think it’s really interesting too how Hama was asking hasegawa, someone the rest of the group knows even LESS, about kamimura. it feels like when two mutual friends talk about someone they knew and get closer through that. i really hope this marks hasegawa beginning to reach out more. (OH YEAH ALSO HASEGAWA CLEANING KAMIMURAS BODY AND THE SCENE,,,, WHAT IF I CRIED.) this episode was also something that really hit how isolated the two were from the rest of the group; we all knew this about kamimura, but hama was hearing a lot of this for the first time.

i really loved hama in this weeks episodes too. teacher hama made me so happy I cant believe we had five minutes of hama yapping about yokai that was AWESOME. wama nation rise this week was peak.... the way he responds to wada in extra credit is so fucking sweet, and him reading chibas story (AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH) to help wada fall asleep was so fucking adorable I lost it. hama is truly someone with so much love to give.

wada this week has clearly been going through a lot. I think definitely in chapter 4, he's starting to grow a bit more confidence and strength to move forward, but shit is hard. it makes sense for wada to backpedal a bit. i knew a lot of what happened cause of wada.exe but damn was it so painful hearing it VOICED. shout out to literallt every single tetro VA, i think their work has absolutely enhanced the story so beautifully. wada has so much to deal with and his past will always be with him. “it can't be trauma because that means it won't go away”, was a really striking line. i really loved all the lines in these episodes, they held so much power.

oh yanagi, you sweet son of a bitch. I'm so worried for his survival chances this chapter, he's been serving everyone. he treated Monomoko to the princess experience despite everything. he helped wada talk about his issues with food and set out to help him do something about it, just like how he did with his sister. he kept trying until finally having the opportunity to talk to hayashi. yanagi is someone who knows where he comes from, but has made huge strides and constant effort to not be like his father.

and finally, speaking of families. watari. oh my goodness, I love watari so much. her interview was amazing, it was such a rollercoaster (girlie is the number one wama n hasemura fan lmfaoo), but I really enjoyed the whole thing. i had a suspicion that she really just longed to be a teenager without responsibilities when I read her secret files, but damn. i think the wish for her mom to be more involved is something so sad but so real. tons of kids have to end up taking care of their siblings like how watari has to, and it’s a lot on someone who’s still growing themselves. i didn’t make that connection to why she loved having fun with okazaki until this interview, and wow. Firefox nation how we feeling (im going to explode UAHSHDJEJEJE). this killing game, ironically, gave her the opportunity to be free, just for a bit. i also find her instinct to say she wants to be an only child interesting, as I think it’s instinct to blame the immediate people around you for a problem that is more (likely?) systematic. but in reality all she wants is her mom to do things for her, like a mother should.

I think this is the first proper time watari has acknowledged how she’s been feeling about Okazaki (Y’all are cruel with these questions LMAO). okazaki was someone she could have fun with, to enjoy herself with. okazaki let her be who she wished she could’ve been, and she wanted her. if Okazaki hadn’t killed like she did, maybe things would be different. clearly, under all her hatred and anger towards Okazaki for the fucked up things she did, she loved her. she misses her. she still wants to be foxes with her, in another life, where they can start over and have a clean slate. she wants to spend life with the one who let her be the carefree teenager she wanted to be. she wants her. don’t mind me bawling my eyes out!

overall, I've really loved the themes of support from tetro recently. I think it's been a common reminder coming through that people need others to keep going. support is a powerful thing, and when so many of the cast of tetro have been alone in some aspect during their life, finding the people to help them through it to move on through their life is an incredibly powerful thing.

[thorns-and-rosewings]

Well, I've changed my mind...

After watching today's episode of LAES, I feel like... Well... I've started to think that the Lunar and Earth Show as we know it is probably not going to last much longer. I know that the eternal optimist that I am would love it if the show continued and I had been really feeling like it would. But right now, it feels to me like they are laying the ground work for the show to end one way or another.

At this point, it could be that Earth and Monty might leave the dimension. That is now a possibility distinctly placed on the table. Just like it's distinctly possible for Lunar to go with the Astrals... Of course it could be Lunar chooses to leave and Earth stays, or Lunar stays and Earth leaves.

Or, secret third option, they both leave and hand the channel over to some different hosts.

As much as I don't think they would, they could turn it into a Solar and Jack Show. Given how popular those two are...

In any case I think the show is getting a rebranding in the near future. I don't know what it could be... Logically, I think it might be Earth leaving and Lunar stays with a new co-host. This one comes about due to all the BS that Kat has gone through. I wouldn't blame her if she just wants to leave... So this could be a way to do that.

I know I'm an optimist, but this is reality and I will accept it no matter what it comes down too, although I do think a rebranding is in the future. You don't just kill off a popular channel when it's still growing, you just rebrand it.

That being said, do I think this will affect either TSAMS or EAPS going forward as well? Probably not... Matt even stated that they have plenty of fun stories yet to tell on the EAPS channel, which I am looking forward too. If that channel was in danger of going down they would have just cancelled it outright rather than get a new co-host.

And TSAMS? Not a chance. That's the most popular of all the Security Breach Shows still active. It makes EXTREMELY good views on the videos and has a continually growing base of subscribers. I HIGHLY doubt that one is going anywhere any time soon. Even if both Davis and Reed left (God Forbid) they would most likely just change the VA's. It's THAT popular.

And I have said this before, I fully expect that Secrets of the Mimic is going to breathe life back into ALL these shows as well. Due to the storyline touching on the past with the Mimic, but also apparently going forward into the future, presumably into what happens after Ruin. I'm excited to see what will happen and although things are gloomy now, I hope we will have many wonderful stories to watch in the future.

Again, just my thoughts...

[seasonal-writes]

Hey there! So, it’s been a while. I have done a lot of thinking, some writing, some attempts—but I have come to the conclusion that I do not think I will be writing out the continuation and end of When Fate Finds Golden Rings. It took me a while to get to this point, and I'm so sorry to anyone who was hoping or expecting me to eventually come back to posting it on ao3. You know, you just.. don’t write on a fic for over a year-ish and surprise! Maybe you really lost the energy and passion for this piece after all. Which is okay. 

BUT. Instead,

Welcome to: Ro gives away the plans for the ending, rambles about that process, and gives other weird notes about their first big boy AU. Because I saw a post about bullet point-ing fic and realized I am, in fact, allowed to do that. 

Strap in because this is going to be a Big Post. Sorry in advance. And if it wasn't very obvious, um. Spoilers for When Fate Finds Golden Rings below the cut. <3

It’ll probably be starting at chapter 14. 

So, I want to disclose, before we begin: the ending is not totally up to my current standards as a writer. And this isn’t going to be me bashing my own creative process or my burnout or anything like that. I just feel like noting that… had I thought about the ending in more detail instead of flying by the seat of my pants, I think that it would be more put-together and interesting. I think that applies to the entire story, honestly. So. Yeah. If the ending falls a little flat, that is why. I was too busy daydreaming over my epilogue—which I will be talking about as well!! It's honestly my favorite aspect that came from continually thinking about the fic rather than writing it. LMAO.

Interestingly enough, I originally wrote that there were going to be at most like, 7-8 chapters left. realistically, that would probably not have happened. Considering this outline was in SHAMBLES, I can safely say it would’ve been a whirlwind last few chapters. sincerely, future Ro after writing out the mess you’re about to see.

The place where Joel, Lizzie, and Etho live was going to be the place where the ending took place. All the chapters in this “arc” as I'd call them—even though that’s not really what they are—were going to be here and were originally intended to be a deeper dive into Tango’s background. Since the first half of the story is really steeped in Jimmy’s world, it had only felt right to give Tango his own section and exposition as a character.

This was going to become the part of the story where it’s like, Jimmy and tango are in a more stable place for a moment so it gives them more time to reflect. It also would’ve given them time to be away from each other, which I thought was important for two guys who had been subjected to good ol’ forced proximity and were finally given little outs to be apart; i.e. Etho taking tango away for a day, Jimmy spending time with Lizzie and/or Joel. That was a chapter idea I had: both basically kinda being like: yeah! no! I can be alone. I don't miss him at all. not even a little. it feels weird without him here though, right- and just dealing with that. Plus the fear of getting caught, the fear of the OTHER one getting caught and not knowing. yeah. <3

Something I had planned on happening between Tango and Jimmy was that Jimmy was basically going to very much avoid his own feelings all around. He’s so attached to this guy, very much falling for him, and convinced that he is in the way despite it all. He’s kinda… under the impression that maybe he’s in the wrong for not wanting to stay, because OBVIOUSLY Jimmy knows better than to stay in one place like this after the whole journey thus far, when Tango seems so happy. So Jimmy, flawed as this idea is, just assumes Tango will be better off if he stays close to his home and Jimmy doesn’t want to make Tango feel like he has to keep running. The best way i can describe this is like

Jimmy: Man. Tango seems really happy here. I don't think he needs me. I bet he wants to stay. No, I'm not gonna ask him, that’s crazy. What I WILL do, however, is leave without telling him. 

and then he did. :) 

That was basically going to lead into a chapter where Jimmy is ~kidnapped~ on his way out of town by ANOTHER set of characters I was excited about: the mercenaries, Ren, Martyn, and BigB! Golden Rings!Ren is fun to me because he keeps the Red King aesthetic. For some context of why they exist: the three stooges mercenaries heard through the grapevine that if the two princes were captured and returned alive, there would be a big reward. I never actually decided if they’d been tracking Jimmy and Tango for a while, or if it was a coincidence that the reward went out and they happened to stumble into town. but all that matters is that Ren ‘n Gang are in fact successful, and smuggle Jimmy off to a camp somewhere along the road headed back to the palace with full intentions of bringing him home, with or without tango. 

behind the scenes, tango is actively losing his mind. so, fun fact here: I never actually…wrote down how this next bit happens. please forgive me i haven’t touched this outline in like a year and a lot has happened since then- but OoOoh wow! Tango manages to find him!! at the camp!! at night. please note here that golden rings!tango has reflective animal eyes. like cats at night when light shines on them? that’s tango. 

I had this whole scene planned where I would riff off the Tango Rage and make him go nuts on these guys. The funny thing is that Tango can’t really fight, but I think he would do an effective job on scaring the shit out of them and chasing them out of camp. Like, spooky story level shit—crackling twigs, snapping branches, etc.. At the end, Tango manages to untie Jimmy and they make a quick getaway back to town. 

When I tell you this was gonna be one exciting chapter after exciting chapter, I mean it. The next big part, dear rancher enjoyers, was going to be the confession scene. 

Basically, imagine. Tango and Jimmy are walking home. tango is really quiet, won’t look at jimmy except to make sure he’s still right there. There is a storm brewing in the sky, and they’re trying to get back as soon as possible. but suddenly, tango freezes in place. Jimmy gets a few feet ahead, but stops and turns when he notices tango isn’t in pace with him. tango looks hurt. more hurt than jimmy’s ever seen him. which makes Jimmy feel awful. and it’s like:

T: If you wanted to leave, you should have told me.  J: …Tango. T: If you wanted to leave, you should have come and told me. We are friends— a team, you've said it yourself. I would’ve been ready to go.  J: I wasn’t…I was hoping you wouldn’t follow me.  T: Why wouldn’t I follow you? J: I just thought it’d be easier on both of us if I left you to your devices here. I’m sorry.  T: You’re sorry? You think that’s gonna just- just make this better for me? After you just up and left me there, worried that you’d been taken back to your family? T: And- And you almost were, too! You were this close, Jimmy! If you were that scared of staying then- J: You know, there was nothing forcing you to come get me, I could’ve just gone and you could’ve stayed and lived the life you wanted back in the palace! I thought that was the plan! Freedom for both of us! T: ….You really just don’t get it, huh? Are you that dense? J: What? What don’t I understand? T: I am in love with you, you idiot! J: …You.. you what? [dialogue taken from the scene i started writing but never finished<3]

And then more things happen and then they KISSSSSSSS !!! 

Realistically, I want to note that the transition between here and the ending was very finicky and not written down. so, instead, i will be giving you a general run down of what the ending was supposed to be. 

With tango and jimmy now having confessed and acting upon those feelings, they think they’re safe for the moment. However, soon after, etho finds them and basically alerts them of an uptick of Nether Guard, having heard that the mercenaries reported their sighting and now, rather rapidly because ~portal transport~, the kings were sending search parties out once more. etho suggests they get out of the city, and the two agree, prepping quickly to leave what became a very good few allies and safe place for the roads once more. 

The day they are supposed to flee, the overworld’s royal party arrives; Grian heading the way, seeming to be the one sent to find his little brother. 

This part got really fuzzy for me because I don't think I ever actually plotted out the transitionary period between "you two need to run" and "we're running, it's bad."

What I do know, though, is that the final scene would’ve been a confrontation with Grian, who attempts to convince them to come home. but when Jimmy explains, begs his brother to try and understand (i also think he uses his secret relationship with Scar as a bit of an example. leverage, even); Grian eventually wishes his brother goodbye, and turns a blind eye to let them run. 

Epilogue: Tango and Jimmy, fittingly, escape to the countryside. When they eventually outrun search parties and the call for their return dies down, they settle on a tiny cottage out on a tiny farm with wishes to expand it and make it their own. Jimmy tends to the animals. Occasionally, he sends a letter under a false name, and he gets one in response; a brother, far away, still keeping him in on happenings in the kingdom and in his life. Tango dives into his redstone, creating and building and making things he never would’ve had much time to while being a king. He thinks of a guard, long left behind, and wonders if he thinks of him too. 

The two never marry, as marriage doesn’t leave a very sweet taste in their mouths—but they do make vows, whispered promises to stay together forever. A prophecy haunts them; but they were never really the type to obey any plan laid out for them, anyway. 

Some years later, a quiet life has been established—but one day, someone arrives. Tango has gone out to gather supplies, so when there’s a knock, Jimmy answers the door. 

Before him, there is a tall figure with a familiar set of eyes. Impulse, knight and ex-personal guard of the Nether Court, stands before him. When Tango returns to find him, a beautiful reunion is had; one with tears and relief and all the love in the world so present in one moment. 

GUESS WHAT !!! TANGO/JIMMY/IMPULSE CANON IN GOLDEN RINGS EPILOGUE!! IMPULSE COMES BACK TO HIS BOY AFTER ESSENTIALLY GIVING UP HIS GUARD POSITION BECAUSE IT’S NOT THE SAME!! THEY CAN BE SO SILLY TOGETHER NOW!! AAAAAAAAA I’VE BEEN WAITING TO SHARE THIS GOD-

please god someone ask me about this dynamic i’m not okay

And, yeah! That was kind of it for the story. As I said, it falls flat to an extent. It’s not the ending that I would give it today. I still wanted to share it, even if it wasn’t the best or most detailed. I love this story, I love this universe and its characters and all the work I did on it. I still want to think about it, talk about it, etc. I’m not letting it go completely, just.. the fic won’t be finished. I am of the firm belief that I could’ve done a lot of things differently, that the story could be even better if I rewrote it entirely. But that’s not a project for right now. :) Because holy shit this fic is at 65k and that would be… hoooo.. a lot of work. Just like picking it back up and finishing it would also be quite a bit of work. It’s hard—I’ve had people tell me just to do it, just to finish the damn thing for the sake of finishing it and not quitting. So, this is my version of that, even if it isn’t the same. I don’t feel like I’m quitting, I'm only a little sad about how it's ending for now, but it feels right. I’m just like 99% sure I won’t enjoy writing the rest out. And, like I said at the start, that’s okay. Passion and motivation changes. People grow.

Anyway, that’s all! Thanks for listening to my silly little ramble about this AU that is old but still lovely. If you guys have questions or wanna chat about the AU at all, my ask box is always open even if I am terrible at answering them. If I find anything else or think up anything, maybe I’ll post about it! But, for now, I hope you all enjoyed my sillies. I love everyone who set foot in this space and read what is still my most favorite fanfiction I've ever written. :)

[our-arospec-experience]

this probably sounds selfish, but in my life, the thing i've wanted most for as long as i can remember is just to be someone's favourite. someone's first pick. this was easy when i was younger, as i only really invested my time in my at the time best friend. years later, after moving countries and back a few times, i found it hard to reach that again. i felt unnecessary. the friend groups i were in were enough to get by, but i lacked the closeness and deep connection i wanted, which made me feel so lonely. i am now part of a trio that really values each other. they mean the world to me, and we're all very supportive of each other. but, what ive realised just less than an hour ago, is that soon enough they'll probably start to date seriously. once again, i'll be alone, because i definitely dont want any romance in my life. once again, i'll become an extra. valued, but unimportant. (i know when relationships first start out, they probably won't be that close, and people will probably still make time for me, but eventually, in the future, i'll be left alone. and i dont know how to feel about it. just shitty i guess. my friends are great people, and i dont want to blame them for most likely following this route, as there's nothing wrong with it- i just really wish i could stay special to them.

I'm sorry to hear that anon, I hope everything works out okay eventually

[fawnsmagicalisland]

oh my god your blog theme is so beautiful it’s giving temptation 🥰🥰

I follow your bnd acc and I love love love the way you write them! And I see you write for &team which is great since not many people do 😭

So I was wondering, if you take requests, how do you think Nicholas would deal with coming home to you after a long day of practice? I see him as a switch so in I think in this case he would let you take control and make him feel good but I ask for you to expand on this idea!

If you don’t take requests that’s fine too, I’ll be supporting your future works 🫶🏽

EEEEEK nonnie tysm for your sweet compliments!! 🥰 i'm so happy you're happy with my work!!! 🤧🤭 also i definitely did use txt’s temptation concept as inspo hehe. and i do take requests, yes yes! i LOVE this idea when i saw it i squealed n giggled… kicking my feet, twirling my hair, etc. but anyway let’s just get into it. hope you enjoy! <3

warnings: smut, mdni!, switch!nicholas but really only focuses on him as a sub in this scenario, just some thoughts not a full fic, afab!reader but no pnouns used, praise, oral (reader receiving), edging (idol receiving)

wc: 550

nicholas gives me switch vibes too! sometimes domming is too much work, so he just wants to be subby for you. :( in any case, he loves things to be taken slow. i think he’d be a pretty romantic guy in the sense that for him, sex is more than just the physicality. it’s about the emotions as well. 

when nicholas comes home to you after a tiring day of practice, all he wants is to be coddled. this man lives for giving you compliments, and also receiving them from you. when you run your fingers through his hair with his head on your lap, telling him about how proud he makes you, he immediately goes into a subspace. 

nicholas has a tendency to get overstimulated after a long day–who wouldn’t?--and his best way to cope with that is via sex. there’s something about combating a negative overstimulating environment with a positive overstimulating one that has him hooked. even if he’s had a long, tiring day, he’s still got enough energy to last him for a couple of hours. 

he loves to eat you out on days like that. he loves it when you’re a bit rough and needy about it too–bucking your hips into his face as he desperately tries to keep up a rhythm. he eventually gives up though, instead just allowing you to use his face. 

he also likes to bury his face in between your boobs. it’s both comforting and so hot to him. he loves marking up your skin too while looking up at you with adoration as you ride his cock. 

i think he’d be a soft sub, not very bratty. especially when he’s tired–he’d rather direct his energy toward making you, and therefore him, feel good. he loves putting a lot of care into making you feel good because sometimes he feels like he could just cum from the sound of your moans alone. 

he does appreciate being told what to do, but he would be a bit whiny if you told him to not touch you. nicholas loves to always have his hands on you–whether it’s holding your hand or fondling your boobs. i think that’s the only time he would be “bratty.” he knows that he’s sexy, though, so he knows that even if you try to be more strict during sex, you’ll probably fold for him. 

extra thoughts: 

he wouldn’t mind edging–especially if it means he can still touch you.

he would prefer, whether he’s dom or sub for the evening, to light some candles and turn on music to make things even more romantic. 

he is desperate when it comes to making you cum. he prefers for you to cum before him, maybe even twice or three times. 

he’s big on power imbalances, so i think he’d always like things as either he’s dom and you’re sub or he’s sub and you’re dom. sometimes the positions may switch during sex, but they’re still present nonetheless. 

speaking of positions… i think he’d love trying different ones. one position i think he’d really like is when making out, having you straddle his lap while on your knees, hovering above him. he’s really tall, so he kind of likes it when things are flipped and he’s the one looking up at you.