#Sorry is this too much a read. i feel like its a lot to read

[cyberhughes]

congrats!!

sorry this is a lot but can I get a long island #1/#24 where connor like confesses his feelings please

cyberhughes 200 follower special ⋆ .˚

long island coming up!!

prompts #1/#24: "i think i love you." + "i'm like, madly in love with you."

warnings: none!!

hi love!! thank you so much for the request! connor is such a cutie i wish men were real. there is a movie reference in here but if you don't get it its basically just that the multiverse is real :( cause i'm a nerd and i think he’s a nerd too

prompt list

connor bedard felt like a lovesick loser whenever you were around. of course you'd never known that your best friend had a major crush on you, and he intended on keeping it that way, he'd never want to jeopardize your friendship over a silly crush.

a silly crush that had his heart thumping as he watched you silently with loving eyes as you danced around the kitchen of his apartment, blasting the smith's "there is a light that never goes out" on your phones speaker. you had taken a spatula, using it as a microphone while he sat back and laughed at your antics.

"and if a double decker bus~" you flipped your hair while jumping around, shooting him a toothy smile. "crashes into us~" you sang, sliding on your socks to where he was sitting at the island and shoved your makeshift microphone into his face. you didn't notice the blush on his cheeks when he mumbled the lyrics as he rolled his eyes, “to die by your side, is such a heavenly way to die..." you'd burst into laughter at his off key singing, but he didn't get upset, he'd simply admire the way your face lit up, because of him.

a silly crush that had him doing whatever you wanted, he'd follow you around like a lost puppy any day. you had dragged him to a new book shop that had just opened up, not too far away from his place. he trailed behind you as you scanned the tall shelves of books, falling in love with the way you observed the books with such concentration, the way your eyes squinted slightly and your brows furrowed as you flipped through the pages. and of course he was holding your pile of books to purchase, unsure if you knew what the cost was, it was getting to be quite the stack.

"i promise i'm almost done." you'd give him a sorry smile and he'd shake his head, "it's okay, i don't mind." and he really didn't, he'd actually prefer that you take longer just so he could spend more time with you, not getting to see you as often because of his busy career. he didn't notice when you called out his name, too entranced by the way your lips moved as you spoke passionately about the books.

"connor?" his eyes widened, "yeah, sorry." you pointed to a book that was just barely out of your reach. "can you reach that?" you'd ask sweetly and he felt his heartbeat pick up, nodding. he balanced your current pile of books carefully in one hand while he grabbed the new one. "thanks!" you eagerly grabbed it, your hands touching for a brief moment, and how he wished he could experience the things you read about in your romance novels, with him.

a silly little crush that had was not in fact so silly anymore. he couldn't go about his day without thinking of you. the two of you had a movie night planned, and while this was a regular occurrence for you, he suddenly felt so nervous. he had made sure his apartment was extra clean, that he smelled good, and that he didn't forget to pick up your favorite snacks. when you had arrived with sweats and no makeup on, he couldn't hep but fall in love with you more, appreciating that you felt comfortable around him.

that night the movie you had picked was 'everything, everywhere, all at once.' you'd seen it a few times and you knew connor would be a big fan. you had your legs rested on his lap as you concentrated on the movie, but the only thing he could concentrate on was your pretty face.

"think about it connor!" you started chatting, throwing a piece of popcorn in your mouth, "imagine what our lives would've been like if we had made different decisions! like what if we had never met? would we still be where we are now? or would i be a famous celebrity?" he listened intently as you continued to ramble on, explaining how the multiverse could very much be real, and that your every day decisions could alter your life's path so easily. all he could think was that in every universe, he'd want to be with you.

"what do you think?" you asked and he stared at you with dazed eyes, "i think i'm in love with you." both of your eyes widened at his words. he couldn't believed he had just said that, out loud. "what did you just say?" you asked with uncertainty and he felt like his heart might beat out of his chest. oh well, there was no turning back. "i'm like, madly in love with you." he confessed and felt his stomach do somersaults as he waited for a response from you.

at first you just stared at him in disbelief, and he had thought he had messed everything up. he then watched a smile slowly form on your face as you sighed, "connor bedard you are such an idiot." you giggled, "i think i'm madly in love with you too."

he didn't know what to do, he hadn't ever planned on confessing his feelings to you. he thought that he'd might be dreaming, it was only in his dreams that you had reciprocated his feelings, but here you were. and so he spoke the only words he could think of in that moment,

"can i kiss you?"

[nanaboo-pumpkaboo]

//ooc under cut

@completelylusingit - Lus is like probably one of the best examples of someone from Unova like interacting with Silas based on what they know and then growing to like the guy once actually knowing him. I love seeing the evolution of Lus character and am glad to have the guy back. @.nacrenecitygardening Fuck I feel for Cory. for a multitude of reasons. I'm so worried and so interested in these situations.

@thatfailedpokemontrainer - Sprite is such a dude, I described it once upon a time as "A closed box of firecrackers with the fuse lit" and the statement still stands. He's so chaotic and I've been deeply enjoying its and Paris journey through Unova. @.a-nickits-den as well, Beedrills contrast with Sprite is so so interesting and the rivalry with Kura has me fucking gripped I've gushed to my partners about those two. Not to mention how good Beedrill has been for altering Silas' fate, that kid means a lot to the old man.

@battle-subway-ghost - I was first introduced to Paris through the grey walls event but I have deeply enjoyed seeing like, how chill Paris is. I love how much he like stands up for Kura and I still think about the bit where Silas leaked his information even if that ruined any chance for them interacting.

@tinkatinktrain - The goodra post is what introduced me to Mylah and I love how absolutely disgusted it makes Viscous-Protector every single time it pops up on his dash. Silas and Mylah have a really interesting vibe where they both feel like they can be silly to each other but will drop the bit on a dime in order to actually make sure the other is fine. @.subzeroiceshard and fucking, Kura. I gushed with my partners about that fucker just last night, I love how fucked that guy is, I love how GOOD he is about making people hate him to the point where Silas realizes this and is showing him pity out of spite cause he knows Kura wants to be hated and STILL Kura gets Silas to slip. top tier clown.

@shilo-sumac - fuckin god I love seeing Shilo interact with people, I want to have Silas interact with em more. Silas gets like so fuckin concerned and protective like everytime he reads some concerning posts from them but doesn't wanna come off as creepy. Love how she keeps running into terrorists

@team-skull-unova - you my good fella have notifications on. I absolutely love seeing Rais shenanigans every time they log on. I love that Rai is one of the few people who have lost to Silas in a pokemon battle but won in a physical fight. Also I find their thing going on with @cryogonalsmelody so so so fuckin interesting and I am living for it.

@ariadosanon - this is just about the coolest Victoria Silas knows and I am so so sorry for how much he wants to fight her dad. Just about the only team leader Silas follows without intention to clown on.

@team-ex-rocket - you also have notifications on, despite the fact that Silas CAN'T interact with Frosty anymore. I genuinely love how like genuinely dangerous Frosty is but keeps getting clowned on anyways. One of the only characters that has brought out a side of Silas that closely resembles his Boss.

@prof-polaris - sometimes I will just go through and read your blogs. I love how real Polaris feels. I can deeply relate to the melancholy that radiates from subjects having to do with Kittsu and having to like live despite the sadness.

@unovan-businesswoman-angie - I know you've been on hiatus (and I'll delete this part if you'd like to be untagged) but Angie and Tia are so fuckin based. They are so kind and cool and so solid of characters. A lot of the things they both have participated in have been so so well written and entertaining as well, I love the amount of love and care Angie has for her daughters. My recent(ish) arc only increased the amount of love I feel for the character too how like I felt Angie's hesitation when Silas told her the truth. @.rupture-remnant is like, has my braincells fuckin gripped, I think about them constantly, I can't wait until the news reaches them. I don't think Syndicate would exist without them.

@safrina-shards - Another fella on hiatus, she's so interesting. I love reading about her relationship with Angie. When she was active I was constantly hoping "keep her safe keep her safe" hoping nothing bad would happen. Completely activates protective instincts.

@vulgrados-best - I love all of the redux Crewniverse but Miguel is THE most authentic blogger that I have ever fucking seen in pokemon IRL, you've certainly seen in the tags me going "FUCKIN MIGUEL AGAIN" because I just keep reblogging stuff to main from them. Keep it up!

@wishmaker-astra - you made me make a whole new blog just so Silas can interact, 10/10. I love interacting with Astra's polls and how often Silas is able to be silly and also have like adult conversations with Astra. Really gets my senior citizen clown thinking.

@humming-pokemon-helpers - Fuuuuck I feel for Vanilla, the same day Wolfgang died I was actually at my grandma's funeral. Makes every time Silas tries to comfort or help Vanilla 100% hit harder for myself. Love how silly and professional they are.

@guitarandgallade - I wouldn't even be active in pokemonIRL at all without you, Silas wouldn't exist if you hadn't made your original blog all the way back in like 2018.

@goldenrodchef - Gen is so fuckin cool, I love how kindhearted he is and like simultaniously tormented being Eebied. I can see it sometimes getting to him but holy fuck

it took me all fucking day to write these with several distractions but I mean it, thanks for keeping me coming back to this wonderful community

// what if we all tagged our favorite blogs and went to check eachother's favorite blogs out as a result of tagging our favorite blogs. what then

[gnohomotho-blog]

Just a game (part 2) 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

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Pairing: Hwang In-ho / The Frontman x fem!reader

Summary: We're getting there, folks. (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞ ☜(ﾟヮﾟ☜) Mostly fluff, need, imagination, fantasy, slow burn. Focus on the f!reader, because you deserve nice things. She's home, receiving odd gifts, some sweet, some...quite the not sweet, the game and plot and trouser legs thicken (I'm so sorry, it's literally 2 a.m. here). In-ho definitely isn't obsessing over you, hatching elaborate plans, thinking of you so hard he'll break another turtleneck. Not saying the f!reader has any specific issues, but if you recognize any, I hope to be nothing but respectful. ♥ Oh, and we have a dream sequence, Freud would be proud.

(This was mainly meant as a "put your feet up and be cozy, read about yourself and feel good" read, the action will come later. Among other things. I'm so sorry, my thesis is driving me mad.)

Warnings: It's the god damn Front Man The usual Squid Game warnings, mdni, stalking, spying, voyeurism, touching, self-touching, sexual themes, sexual almost-intercourse, descriptions of anatomy and body parts, blood, yearning, some terrible references and Slavic folklore. Privacy? In my fic? It's less likely than you think.

Word count: 4.2k

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A cup of tea. A cup. You were watching the cup. Steam rises from it and folds into nothing. Your stomach is churning. Is it stress? You ponder. Seeing the liquid close in on itself as you stir it. Again and again.

"It'll get cold." You say, to no one. You try to breathe. Heart pounding. Head a bit spinny. You look around your room. Dimly lit, warm orange light from a salt lamp. You check your blinds - still closed, still safe. Noise from other people you try to filter out. Why do you jump at every single sound? Why does white noise blaring its head off make for the only atmosphere you can stand? You wonder. You get up. The world spins. The phone lies on your bed. As it has for the last three hours. Unchecked. Your sound is off. It always is. You turned off everything this time. It's just black. You try to think, ground yourself, poems float through your pounding head. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the tall mirrors of your wardrobe. An oddly shaped form stares back at you.

"Jesus Christ…I look…like shit." The mirrored lips curl around your words - but it might as well have been a stranger speaking back at you. You don't recognize yourself, and what you do, you dislike. Like a funhouse mirror. Without the fun. Your long hair falls across your shoulders, curling towards the ends. Your exposed skin is cold and giving a nice exposé of every vein under your neck, driving rivers of blue across your collarbones, your shoulders, your chest. You won't look further. They seem to be drawn to your middle, pooling across your skin. People often referred to you as pale, no matter your actual skin tone. When things got a tad too heavy, you became transparent. It was calming, sometimes. Calming that so much was trying to keep you alive to the point of exhausting itself and sending highways of signals through every vein to keep at it. Your head spins again. More poems. Try to drink the tea.

"Light your candle, one, two, there's a moth…" You know the rest. But the lips fail to speak. You pick up the phone. And almost knock over your tea. Then proceed to fight an urge to fling it into a wall and watch the stains roll down like fresh blood.

Seventeen missed calls from a blocked number - your now ex-companion. A worried message from your friend, no doubt spurred by said ex-companion with an entirely different story to reality. Frowning, you adjust your dressing gown and tie it down to hold everything in and hold you together.

"Hey, Y/N…I know you probably don't want to talk, but I'm sorry things went so badly. I'm here."

You hate yourself a little more. Clara has always been a darling, you…cared for her. A lot. You wish to say "loved", you squint your eyes and wish to say you love her. People are kind. People are always so very kind. And you can't drink a cup of tea. Nor reply. There's also an email. From a set of numbers, no name. You open it, against your better judgement. No subject, only a photograph. Of your door. Your door inside your flat. Which is locked. You didn't ring anyone in. You, of all people, didn't hear any steps on the stairs. You live at the very top floor. And still?! What is wrong with you lately, now of all times?

And still, there is a photograph of your door. With…things? Your shoes were gently placed beside your mat.

"Um…" You knock on your housemate's door - how grateful you are for the economic situation which doesn't permit you to live alone now, you think bitterly as his steps approach.

"Oh, Y/N, how are you? What can I do you for?" Ever the cheerful voice and visage stands before you, half dressed, always flooded with work and hobbies. The room behind him is full of papers and candles, manuals and scripts, and information that probably shouldn't be lying around covered in bird photography snaps. It calms you a tad. You breathe out and uncross your arms. In the back of your mind, you wonder what he's always so entranced with.

"I'm getting there, thank you, Lubo." Your chest falls a tad, you really do feel a bit better, but very on edge. You fidget with your fingers as you speak. "Would it be alright to ask if you could open the main door with me? Something is there and I've been listening to too many IRA anthems to trust it." Because making a joke out of a very serious situation never failed you yet.

"Sure!"

You notice one of the birds on the ground behind him. Gazing at one photograph a little longer, you smile at the birdie and its soft grey feathers, little black dash across its little eyes...you realise you're looking at a shrike. The universe really is sending her best.

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You open the door as Lubo endeavours to rummage through the things on your doorstep. It seems to be a very neatly wrapped black box with a pink bow. With a little token of a crow embossed on its side. Heavy, by the looks of it. You half expect your ex-companion's limbs to be soaking its insides.

"I'll take it indoors and disinfect it, ok? Just so it doesn't feel like you've contaminated the flat." You nod, thank him over and over, and feel very grateful for him remembering your slight fights with obsessive cleanliness and parasites. But this looks…clean. You take a knife from your room, the knife that's been under your pillow for good reason. Kneeling, you gently unwrap the box altogether and distance yourself from the thing for a little bit. Breathe. It's just a box. Those never go wrong.

It's…full of…gifts?

Your…favourite flowers, perfectly preserved. No one knows your favourite flowers that well. Under them, resting under jewels of crimson poppies, lies a book of poems, the ones you use to calm yourself down; the ones that make you feel less alone. In the correct languge, even. Next to the poppies, hot water bottles, wrapped, fluffy, still warm. Under them yet, medication you couldn't get from your doctor for the entire month due to disagreements and never being heard, half of them aren't even sold in the country. Bath salts, dark chocolate, tea…there seems to be so much. Your face is caught in a mixture of attempting to frown, being swept off your feet, and deeply uncomfortable with what is basically an encyclopedia of you in a box. You carefully lay the items to the side and begin to notice things you truly need your housemate to not see. You lose your breath for a moment and blush so hard you almost forget both the kindness and terror of the rest of the package. It seems to be divided into care for you and…some other forms of urges. As if. As fucking if.

"Google, remind me to photograph this tomorrow in good light," you say to nothing, "to use as evidence either after this person manages to kill me or before, if the courts move faster than an asthmatic ant with heavy shopping."

Against your better judgement, you carry the box to your room and watch it for a while, as you do other things, but can never quite relax. Surely he can't be serious. Your name isn't Shirley.

There was also a note you now keep flinging on your table and crunching in your hands, neatly written, with no name.

"Dear Y/N,

should you wish to meet someone qualified to help with the attached records, it has been arranged. Be at the coordinates listed between the red and white gift and you will be taken care of. No harm will come to you. You are safe. As right as rain."

Right as rain…that's a part of a poem, that absolute…dear God, fuck, the thoughts in your head are tumbling down at you and you collapse onto the bed, staring at your knees. It's a good thing he somehow didn't include your most loved flowers, since they're all poisonous. One of them you like specifically because it is elegant, sharp, snowy, and beautiful - and all of her body, leaves, and seed pouches scream "don't fucking touch me, if you do, you will die and wish for death the entire time you are doing so". You would very much like to be the flower now. Make someone else hallucinate.

You search the box again and find the beautiful gown, in red, and the gentle white lace undergarments - as kind and gentle and revealing as they are elegant. A little QR code is nestled between the lace.

"Nope. Nope nope NOPE. Absolutely not," you say out loud. Fighting the fact that the nightgown under the two other garments is cozy and light and so very beautiful. And it smells…oddly familiar. With a hint of something else. As if someone knew you loved scents of sweetness, vanilla, caramel, honey, and skin combined with darker, heavier tones that don't usually mix with feminine perfumes. Something lovely and gentle to draw you in, with something far more potent, enveloping, and enthralling to drag you down the lake to drown. And yet. Still. Something else. Something more. You decide to put on the gown and stare into a little crow's eyes. Such a pretty little statue, you don't even remember where you got it from.

"I'm going to be alright. Water is fine. This is just water. We've been here, we've been in the mud up to our noses." You are whispering to yourself, trying to sooth your mind. Metaphores, poems, sooth sooth sooth. You close your eyes, think of beautiful women, barefoot, in the dark of a forest. Glistening lights in their long hair, lights in their gorgeous eyes. Light on their feet, as they dance upon the water and through the marsh. You cannot drown a forest spirit of a woman scorned. They will mesmerize you, dance you, dance you to the end of your love and tether, and pull you into the depths. Then kiss you as you gasp for air.

You undress, eyes still closed, holding the long white gown. You slowly slide into the fabric, which clings to your skin as a lover's touch at the first sign of morning light. Still trying to be as unbothered and confident as a forest Rusalka. You aren't. But the gown smells nice. And it's quite light. Long sleeves, fabric that reveals but doesn't scream. Lace around your chest and stomach, falling down your hips and thighs.

…Kiss you as you gasp for air.

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In-ho was pleased with his gift. Not only the gift, but the message. Upon message. Upon message. He wondered, quite hopeful - yet reserved - if you understood them all. No matter.

You will. Oh, you will. Every word. Even if he has to cling them to your skin, one by one, with his own lips.

To the surprise of absolutely no one except you, perhaps, the small bird brought him all the feedback he could desire. Rather low quality feedback, he thought, as he watched you ponder, watched you crunch up the note, and watched you dress. Instinctively, he looked away as you began to slide your own clothes down. He glimpsed perhaps a strap, perhaps more skin than he first saw…light reflecting off you, sliding down, further down, caressing your tenderness…yet he looked away, calmly resolute to not look back. His gaze remained firmly in the corner of the room, he certainly wasn't fighting - or imagining himself being the photons of light resting on your supple skin. No. It would be unbecoming to watch a lady undress, so vulnerable, so unknowing. Never mind the rest. If you looked up the word "hypocrite" in the dictionary, In-ho's face wouldn't be next to it. It would be on the next page, because he would never be caught. As he looked back, you were dressed, not looking at yourself.

In-ho frowns for a moment, before he sees the rest of you. Even though it's just a phone screen and the picture quality truly isn't doing you justice, his breath is caught. He shifts and looks around instinctively, only a flicker of the eyes and a small movement of the neck. But he's nervous, nervous to be so exposed. He chuckles to himself just as unnoticeably - he's spying on you yet he's the one feeling exposed..was the chuckle to ease tension? This is just a game to him and you are nothing, after all. No one. He shifts once more and uncrosses his legs, one hand slowly combing his hair firmly away from of his forehead. Nothing. Just as it is nothing that is making the jacket around his neck feel tight. He sees you stand, further away now. He sees your entirety in the white flowing fabric, the lace, the…entirety…of you. His coat needs to come off, and is discarded to the side in haste. The remaining turtleneck isn't much help, but he goes in, now fully enthralled. Positioning himself, he endeavours to enjoy you. Slowly. From the tip of your head to the soles of your feet, remaining fully in control, admiring, never taking, never grabbing. Never…needing. But as he moves down your face, your cheeks, your chin, along your neck all the way to your hair resting on your now exposed shoulders, back to your mouth and lips - he leans into the screen - those supple yet reserved, tender lips whispering gently and curling around words as if speaking to a sleeping lover in the night who is caught in a bad dream, the eyes - damn the picture quality - the eyes that glint, yet resemble dark pools amid features that are…that mean…his heart is fast. His eyes pools of reckless abandon. They flicker to the movement of your hips and tick fast, fast back up top, stopping at the almond curve the nightgown begets your breasts - In-ho's hands twitch as his fingers yearn with a mind of their own, to hear you gasp and squirm and melt under their touch as he teases, cups, and caresses in the gown's place. Tender flowers, waiting to be kissed. As you move, for him, for his eyes only, his mind floods through its inhibitions and begins racing on instinct - yet does so wrapped in cotton; barely subdued. Algorithms, scenarios, plans - ten a second - gather in his mind - resting on nothing but your features, spurred into existence by you, your lips, your form, your movement. He's watching the last flame dance before him in a sea of suffocating darkness, and it is his. Tension grips The Frontman's trousers as he digs his fingers in to feel something, anything, as if to drag himself back, painfully if need be - all this…for a low quality moving picture of you.

You. Your self before him. No adjective does it justice to In-ho, no painter could stroke its surface, nobody could own this moment. Nobody but him. And he cannot reach, reach through the screen, for you, for you mean…you in your entirety, before him, vulnerable, bare, unknowing, both a deity to be worshipped and a form to be devoured and left pleading, barely breathing under him, his grasp, his hot breath, you, you mean…

…nothing to him. In-ho leans back again. He breathes a bit faster, containing himself. As his breath slows and features fall back into place, he straightens the trouser leg and exhales. Your name is on his lips as he does so; he whispers it to himself. A name that doesn't seem to leave his tongue, no matter how many times it wraps around every syllable.

"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N…you are nothing."

He turns off the screen with one click. "Nothing." He gets up, leaving the phone behind. He is back to his true self - unbothered, cold, empty. A statue of stone. It was fun while it lasted, but the shell he wears gets tired of the falsity imbued in it during these little sidesteps. Little adventures to ease the monotony. Your records lie on the table, next to his glass of dark liquer. He walks over slowly, cradles it, sipping with restraint, and puts it down just as slowly in the exact same place. He goes on with his evening, thinking, it must be said, of nothing. He continues his work, thinking of nothing. Nothing replaces the drabble of his underlings as they update him on the latest games. Nothing is on his mind as he showers, nothing is in the water that glides down his own body. Nothing is in the warmth that he doesn't imagine being replaced nor coming from a different source. The voice of nothing is in the hiss and humm of the shower, nothing sings to him sweetly as it envelops his form. Nothing is woven into his satin sheets, nothing still smells of the perfume he picked for you, nothing is in his bed and pillows and nothing is slowly, invariably, fatally invading his mind. The cologne he uses, the same cologne he rubbed upon certain parts of the gown you now rest in, isn't combining and wildly interweaving with your gentle, warm, sweet, yet heavy scent. Nothing is everywhere and nothing is driving him absolutely stark, staring mad as he lays there - naked, exposed, amid satin sheets, it is nothing that invades his dreams and wraps him in sensations he can still only dream of.

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Barren lands and dusk. No flowers. No life. In-ho is alone. As far as the eye can see lies nothing. He cannot feel his mask. A shape is in front of him, laying there, incredulous. Unfitting its surroundings. As if guided by an unseen hand, he walks up to her slowly and kneels beside her. She is dressed in white fabric, falling across her skin, exposing more than is becoming of such a form. Her hand is resting next to her head, her other at her side. She is peacefully asleep. A gentle humm escapes her lips - she must be dreaming. In-ho glides the back of his hand everso carefully across her cheek, guiding it down her neck and stopping at her collarbones. Her chest lifts in a slow rhythm as her skin touches his. She is his. Is she not? He could...open his hand, and his hand opens. He could place it around her neck, and he does. As he feels her warmth and blood pumping into his hand, he thinks he could squeeze and hold down. He doesn't. The form reacts to his intentions, seemingly, her face frowning in the most unnoticeable way, lips falling from their previous peaceful expression to a worried frown. As if caught in a bad dream.

No, no, no.

In-ho releases the pressure and merely rests his hand on her neck, pushing errant strands of hair away from her skin. They fall around her shoulders and between the fingers of his other hand, which lifts instinctively to cradle her head. Her expression relaxes, and he smiles almost on instinct. Suddenly, her eyes flutter open and gaze into his own, almost unblinking and holding his gaze. The pools of comforting darkness set in an innocent visage drive electrical current through his entire body and In-ho almost has to steady himself against the ground where his hand is holding her head, still. She isn't scared, she only gazes and studies, lays, and rests in his own dark eyes. Her smile mirrors his. As if the two of them were already familiar, already far beyond anything novel. She whispers to him.

"Darling, this isn't your place."

In-ho doesn't think, he knows the voice. The gentle, slow, melodic whisper that he wishes to hear before he goes to sleep himself. Putting more strength into his grip, he places his dominant palm in hers as it still lays beside her head. He squeezes her down. Without thought, his body shifts to move above hers, holding her gaze, now directly on top of her, without touching her body with his. His hands no longer gentle, but firmly holding down. His thumb caresses her cheek as his other hand pushes her palm into the ground.

"It doesn't need to be."

As the sentence barely left his lips, he connects them with her neck, firmly kissing the skin and pulling her into his bite. The taste is intoxicating, and beckons for more. Sweet, tender, pure, intoxicating. Down her neck he plants kisses and barely restrained bites, gliding his touch, gripping her hand and moving his other to her neck once more. He hears gasps and timid moans, and he moves down, lips brushing against her chest and resting upon it. He lets go of her hand and finally grips her, under the small of her back, caressing and squeezing her waist, lifting her body into his. Now he feels her. Now he feels her being react and pressure and squirm, now he feels the pulse of her body directly under his and melting into him. Every movement, every gasp, every beat of her heart - in his control, under him, sinking into him. Her waist lifts against his and he eagerly helps it up, feeling his need against her body, finally, all he needs to do is tear off the gown, take her, make her fully his and hear her cries and moans as he takes what is his. Still in control of himself, he fully recognizes his itch, his need, his voracious hunger. He recognizes it and fully gives into it.

But the dream does not let him.

Something is wrong. The body is colder now, her breathing is slow, her voice no longer caressing him, her being no longer reacting to his touch. The current fizzled out. Pulling away, he sees the damage done - even as her eyes are wistful and her smile still there, it is sorrowful and soft, gazing down at him although broken under him. He sees her neck and chest, her breasts exposed, her skin red with bite marks, red with his signatures. Lines where his grip failed to falter rest on her tender flesh, her pallor a canvas for his need and depravity. For his destruction. He does not want this, he does not want her like this, his mind races and tries to get back in control but cannot. The canvas before him begins to soak through in crimson, blood pools into the white fabric where he lay and pushed and tried to take her. As he watches the gown cling to her stomach with blood, fear drives cold daggers through his back. He is no longer the Front Man, he is himself. Himself before a Front Man ever was. And he is...scared. Still her voice reaches him, doing nothing to alleviate his state, doing nothing to destroy the damn invisible barrier that keeps him from holding her close, holding her together, holding him together.

"Not like this darling, not like this again."

How is she still smiling? How does she seem so cold yet encompassing an utter lack of proximity? Holding her now seems like the most sacriligeous, repugnant thing he could do. His hands shiver lightly, how is he afraid to touch her now? After all that? She is his, his, this is all so incredibly wrong! He doesn't care, he doesn't have feelings for such frivolities, she is a dime a dozen, she is worth nothing, and she is nothing to him; nothing.

And she's still smiling, a little laugh escaping her lips as if she can hear his inner turmoil and has seen it thrice before.

"Taking what you want, never what you need."

In-ho looks down at his own body, which begins to feel cold and wrong. As if missing something vital. He smells copper, his hand feels hot as he touches his chest yet his body grows colder. The last thing he remembers before waking up in a freezing sweat is looking down at his own body, now filled with open chasms wherever it touched hers - gaping empty holes that can be filled with nothing, bleeding him into the ground as she watches on.

In-ho gasps, springs up into a seated position and touches his chest, his stomach - and breathes in relief. As he is composing himself, a new manner of play begins to form in his mind. Between hurried breaths and elevated pulse beats, he plans a new way to play this game and win.

[carlarosenakilah]

I'm taking a break from The Osix Family and Wilted Ivory

Hi, you've read that right. I'll proceed to go into detail undercut

Warning that the following will be containing very sensitive topics such as su***idal thoughts, mental health issues, and whatever the fuck I went through to get me here and I don't know how to describe nor name them but overall its not pretty.

Getting straight to the point- im drained. I'm in a horrible place right now and I need to take a step back before it might escalate into something worse.

The Osix Family is always something that I will forever dedicate to. It has comforted me, carried me, and saved me from killing myself three years ago.

I asked myself, "If I'm not here, who will tell the story of The Osix Family?"

That made me stay alive, and im greatful for that because if not, I wouldn't have been where I am today standing with the coolest people I have ever met and my amazing partner in crime @alexusespido-dod.

I love Wilted Ivory too, and that's where it gets tricky.

My only plan for Wilted Ivory is to simply tell a story about growth expressed as a musical au. Hence why the art is so simple– not just to match the original Casino Cups style, but just to tell a story that I hope would inspire and comfort others. Of course, I'm happy it gained lota of love.

The Osix Family though is a different story.

Like I said, it means a lot to me, so I put so much time and energy into this series. I sacrifice time that could've been used to study for the next exam, but instead im working on the next few panels or planning the music and etc. Blood sweat and tears (literally) into making sure the art looks good, story is properly conveyed, scenes carefully picked. Even if it gained me bad scores in my exams that made me stress over about, in the end it was worth it to me. I didn't care if I'd be sick an unable to move, as long as I could at least think about it, then I would be happy.

Episode 3 was my worst.

I overworked myself for that episode. I was always in front of my tablet, I never moved out of my seat, I was just there, working on it even if it was 1 in the morning and that I should be sleeping. I told myself: "Everything will pay off! Sure you're in so much pain right now, but eventually it will all pay off! Episode 3 is looking good and interesting! This will FINALLY gain the audience and love the story deserves!"

I was proud.

Until I wasn't.

Reality hit me like a saw. The moment the episode was released I was hopeful. But nothing happened. It was all the same.

And it just hurt how something as simple as Wilted Ivory can easily gain attention and love because it was Cuphead related something well known. Meanwhile, The Osix Family–despite everything–is just barely seen.

I started to doubt myself. To question myself. Was I not doing enough. What more can I do. What should I do. Am I not good enough?

Is the story just not good enough?

That broke me. I began to have thoughts I shouldn't have. I wanted to end it all. I wanted to quit and disappear from the world. Because what was the point in pouring so much love into something only for it to dismissed.

Its not like I simply began having these thoughts.

I've had them over and over again.

As much as I hated involving him, my partner, Alex, had to deal with the many times I nearly ended it. To the point where even if he was in school, he'd go out of his way to stop me, I still feel guilty, even if he said it was fine.

I don't understand myself anymore.

Why do I even have such an attachment to this series? Its just a stupid silly series for funsies isn't it? Why does my life to depend on it?

Unfortunately, it just does.

It sucks. Pushing away my needs for the sake of this passion, only for it to just not go as I hoped it would go. Did I mention I'm also losing followers on the osix family blog? Thats so silly and coquette.

I'm so sorry if im coming off as guilt-trippy, please I don't want it to sound that way, I just want to express how deeply troubled I am because to me it actually DOES HURT.

I envy people who couldn't give a flying fuck about whether or not their stuff goes famous or gets love, I don't even understand why I am so dependent or hungry on whatever attention it gets. I hate that im like this. I want to be free from it but I just crave it.

So, for the sake of my mental health and whatever is left of my sanity, im taking a break, for good.

I will not be updating The Osix Family or Wilted Ivory at this very moment. For how long? It depends on how fucked up I have actually turned out to be today.

I might still post, keyword: MIGHT, its not any update but to just simply draw for myself, but the chances of me posting anything is horribly low.

I'm going to focus on myself, my needs, and whatever makes me happy or have fun with.

To those who supported The Osix Family or even bothered to check it out: Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

It means a lot to me, you have NO idea. Every single like, reblog, comment, hype or even the silliest amounts of theories or thoughts, they make me so happy, it actually heals me.

I can't remember names im sorry, but there was a time someone expressed how they were invested in the lore and loved the world building, it really made my day. Or when someone pointed out some small details on my waiting in a miracle animatic, it warmed my heart.

I have troubles expressing it, but im so, SO greatful.

Especially when some of my mutuals started making OCS FOR THE SERIES?? Like– it felt like a HUGE compliment.

I cant believe im tearing up as im typing this haha im so stupid lmao, but

Thank you. A lot.

And to those who weren't really into The Osix Family, its okay, don't feel bad, sometimes things are just not our cup of tea, I just needed to express my grief, cause honestly bottling it up isn't going to end well for me (and it really didn't multiple times).

I apologize for any false hope or let down your hype as Wilted Ivory was just starting and The Osix Family was finally coming back– but this treatment is overwhelming me that I need to take a step back.

That's all for now.

Thank you for... actually reading, you listening means a lot to me too.

Goodbye.

[dailykafka]

Not Kafka related again, sorry (you don’t have to keep responding to these if it starts to 'spam' your page). This is a response to your Georgia response a few days ago 👍

– Have you ever considered leaving Georgia? Or is it actually a nice country outside of the political rifle? What are some cultural things you like / find interesting about your country? If 'yes' to the first, what nation?

It is a great country and I love it very much (all the people I love are here soo) but obviously Ive considered moving abroad because even though I love the nature, people, culture, it's very difficult financially and politically. I don't have any specific country in mind just some European country probably. I (and many young people) often feel trapped because there's just no support from the state (like its a surprise if you find someone who doesn't have a loan from the bank). Barely any jobs, low wages, ridiculously high prices and on top of that we have an illegitimate government which is day by day taking away our rights and independence.

So as you can see the problem is the government and their politics, so we just have to get rid of them. The country itself is really great. We have great nature (we have the sea, mountains, some sort of desert too, whatever you like lol). The culture itself is really interesting, its not a homogeneous thing and every region has its unique culture with its unique traditions and food. Georgian cuisine is very rich. Even eating food, the way its served and the way its eaten is itself part of the culture.

I love that because we are kinda on the border of Europe and Asia, we have mix of these cultures and we have bits of this and that from everywhere.

Also, oldest evidence of wine production was discovered in Georgia (6000 BC) soo thats cool!

For me Georgia's history is really interesting too because it has always been the target of multiple empires and its pure luck (or just pure spite) that we are still here lol. Georgian literature is also fascinating (literally one of my favorite things). What I love about Georgian literature is how many women are heroes of the story or how important they are in the story. [you have activated my special interest, prepare for infodumping lol]

One of the oldest Georgian texts is from 5th century about a woman martyr called Shushanik and how she refused to give up her faith just to be spared by the enemy Empire (she was a nobility and her husband converted so he would get more influence and wanted her to convert too). The way these people are portrayed in the story and the way it is written, even though its in old Georgian and even though you don't understand half of the words, its a very interesting read and it feels very modern idk how to explain it😅.

There's another text, 12th century poem The knight in the panther's skin, where it's explicitly said that women and men are equal and they should be judged by their merits not their gender + it lowkey says "we love God obviously but loving each other is the real deal". The rumor is that the author of this poem was in love with then king Tamar (she was the ruler of Georgia back then) and he dedicated this poem to her.

I realize ive written too much… but anyways there's a lot of things I love about my country, its culture, history, literature all of it it very interesting and worth checking out! Tripadvisor should hire me now lol

[hannieehaee]

ive been told another one of my fics (over my head) seemingly draws too much inspiration from another preexisting fic (hits different cause its you).

while i 100% do not believe this belief to be true, ill be taking it down to avoid any issues (ill be leaving it up for the rest of the day in case you'd like to save/archive it for ur own reading and then will be removing it altogether). my fic and this fic were posted one month in difference and my full-length fics usually take me months to complete, so any similarities in plot were purely coincidental.

id like to take this time to clarify that a few of my fanfics do utilize tropes/concepts ive seen other authors use but that id never actually copy or steal the actual subject matter of someone else's writing in my own. i was told by this same author that apparently there's been other writers who have issue with some of my fics copying their own, so if you're one of those people, i invite you to come forward and let me know so i can remove whichever fic you feel is similar to your own.

i want people to understand that a lot of writing on here will reminisce one another due to being about the same thirteen individuals who all share specific dynamics and personality traits, along with tropes and trope progressions being similar (if you read my fics i use the exact same trope progressions 90% of the time). and that i could easily pull up a few fics that read similarly to each other but are not the same.

i will remove any 'copied' writing (despite me knowing this is false) to avoid any issues because i dont want to entertain this. though i completely admit my fault regarding my imitation of another writer in my previous post, i wont entertain the idea that most of my writing is copied, because it is not.

with this, i will post the last few works i had already been planning on posting and move onto removing the rest of my work from tumblr altogether. for full transparency, i have a few other works i am in the middle of writing and will be posting those to patreon (i frankly dont care about anyone's opinion on my use of patreon, by the way).

i have a lot of stressors in my personal life, which is why i would only ever pop in here to post writing and leave immediately after, so i am not entertaining anything that makes this space the slightest bit uncomfortable/annoying for me lol sorry! writing has been fun, and the few people ive met on here have been very nice and i will miss them, but im not sitting and waiting for false accusations about my writing due to a mistake i made and admitted to as soon as it was pointed out to me.

id also like to clarify about my patreon since ive gotten complaints before: i do not feel any type of way about it. that money has been incredibly helpful for real-life money issues ive had and im incredibly appreciative of anyone who's supported me. ill continue posting there for a while before ultimately stopping my writing altogether.

im sorry to anyone who liked my writing on here. i'll keep it untouched for a few days in case anyone would like to save it or archive it for their own personal reading. and if anyone would like to read 'closer' (the fic i took down yesterday) message me and ill send you a google docs of it so you can personally keep it for yourself.

bye lol idk if anyone will be sad about my departure ik i sure as hell wont be

[faceofpoe]

Poe, I was delighted, nay, obsessed with the post you reblogged about Collapsed Coruscant. What do you think would happen there after everyone with any credits fucked off to Hosnian Prime or wherever?

Ha, hello friend! Thank you for the much-needed break from doomscrolling. XD

My morbid obsession with Coruscant has always been around how we've seen it (it's so twisted! it just keeps burying itself, layer by layer! the iconic episode 10 Luthen&Lonni shot is of course an excellent example of the old mostly-forgotten infrastructure but my favorite glimpse of the depths is actually in the final Clone Wars season (there's a fucking lake! fucking what. and even THAT is like... so HIGH relative to the surface) (the SURFACE! there's some twisted remnant of a dead planet down there!) (I have gathered through the course of researching for a TBB fic that the TCW portrayal is largely born from a canceled video game called 1313? I think? Lost to the Dark Times the Disney I imagine. Anyway I digress)(MiniPoe just came down to tell me about his Sonic Encyclo-speedia and something about Metal Sonic getting too much backstory(?)(maybe?)so I lost my train of thought)).

BUT if we take a moment to imagine the infrastructure that must go into keeping the lower levels habitable (I'm not sure what the canon (if any) on how deep one can go) with food and water and air (I mean - AIR, at some depth surely it's just suffocating surely??) -

Side tangent there was an old EU novel in the New Jedi Order bonkers era where a mass evacuation of Coruscant/collapse of the government-ish happened and the novel Traitor has a character wandering the desolation of the planet and all the destruction and I don't remember a lot from it (there were def monsters though) but it's probably where my obsession was born.

Additional side tangent one of the EU X-wing novels has a fun little bit with a star destroyer buried (somehow??? these books were written pre-prequels, mind) under the city and it blasts its way free and just MAYHEM DESTRUCTION DEATH like millions of people just -

LAST side tangent in I thiiiiink the EU Jedi Academy trilogy (do not quote me on that) (also pre-prequels days) the Very Young Solo twins wandered off and ended up finding their way to the bottom of Coruscant where they met a dude who was like... a self-proclaimed king of the underworld (I think he'd once been some govt lackey under Palpatine maybe? I read these like 14 years ago lol) and he'd fled and was ruling happily in the depths and upon being informed 'oh hey yeah it's not like that anymore the Empire is gone you can come back up now' he was all "why would I I am a KING down here?" and just fucked off back to the basement.

Point being the EU was ridiculous as all fuck but it had fun playing with Coruscant before we had a Lucas-approved visual of Coruscant.

BUT if all the wealth up and fled Coruscant after the Empire. Hm. I mean, we still see a significant govt presence on the planet a handful of years later in Mando s3 I believe? So I like to imagine there was a sense of 'hey let's not murder trillions via negligence' but as time goes on and instability heightens and whatever the fuck First Order schisming or some shit (sorry I'm the worst sort of Star Wars fan (the type who thinks Star Wars would be good if only it were good))-

I feel like Coruscant would actually become a bastion (lol (no one gets that joke probably)) for remaining (wealthy) Imperial ideologues. Like - maybe some money would flee but I actually wonder if plenty wouldn't move in and continue enjoying living atop all the poor denizens of the depths. Content to live in the shadow of former Imperial glory and leave the New Republic to its rebuilding.

Ensuing power struggle with underworld warlord sorts who have been moving up since the Empire was yeeted? Waiting until the New Republic gets bored rehabilitating the galaxy to come all the way up and claim the prime real estate?

Eventual massive division and power struggle among a bunch of chaos factions, basically, is my proposal. Eventually, winning becomes more important than maintaining the infrastructure and supply lines. Eventually, maybe, the vicious competition for said supply lines ends up severing them altogether. Plenty of safer business to pursue, in the galactic rebuilding. Coruscant slowly fades from the greater galactic awareness. Left to its madness. Left to tear itself apart. Left to rot. Eventually left, undoubtedly, by many of the same sorts who set it on its slow death spiral in the first place.

Coruscant eventually goes dark.

Coruscant eventually goes quiet.

Every new level constructed through the millennia was, of course, built to be the best, the top, built to last.

How strange to finally have one emerge the victor, standing proud atop a dead city.

But the planet is just the same thing it always was, far back as history remembers - a tomb at the heart of the galaxy.

[curly-fry-3]

hi, I'm the person who asked about earlier. I was thinking about a Dean x fem!reader fic, were reader is like a super badass mercenary, who got into hunting after meeting the Winchester, and is also shy as hell. Thank you! Your first fic on this account and I already love you!!!!!!

𖦹Awkward Confessions𖦹

𖦹summary𖦹 You thought dean hated you till a jerk at the bar helps him realize how he really feels

𖦹pairing𖦹 Dean Winchester x Reader

𖦹word count𖦹 2,020

𖦹notes𖦹 THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE REQUEST omg I can't believe people actually like my writing I had so much fun writing this one. I wrote like three pages on my doc and I was so in the zone I hadn't realized it had been TWO HOURS anyway I hope this was what you had in mind and you like it<3

Dean didn't like you. It's not like you did anything–well, anything to him– he just didn't trust you. You two had met when he and his brother had saved you from a vengeful spirit. He never thought much of you, he's helped a lot of people in his life and you seemed to be just like the rest. He never expected to run into you again, what shocked him the most is that you were hunting…like hunting monsters. That's why he couldn't trust you. Why would somebody who got tortured by a supernatural being actively hunt other monsters out (ok hypocrite). Especially you, he remembers you being so shy–reserved and scared–he read you as the type of girl to run, cry, and try to forget. 

 You had to have ulterior motives-technically you did–you were paid to hunt monsters. It was hard work but ohh it paid good. When people are scared for their life, thay will start naming some big numbers. You had run into Dean and Sam a couple times over the years (how could you not) always finishing the job before they could even do any research. You may have annoyed Dean but he could respect the grind–not that he would ever tell you. 

Now he and Sam are speeding down the road, heading to an abandoned farm where–based on their research–a nest of vampires lives. They pulled into the dirt parking lot in front of the barn and pulled out their weapons while going over the plan. Dean went in through the front entrance, passing a familiar car on his way, while Sam circled around back. Dean quietly crept through the barn until he heard the sound of fighting. Assuming it was Sam, He raced through the empty rooms till he came across…you?

Dean stopped and rolled his eyes out of frustration. That's why he recognized the car. Why are you always stealing his jobs? He did all that hard work researching for you to just take all the glory. And how the hell are you taking on a whole nest on your own? You're too good at what you do and it pissed him off.

You finish decapitating the last vampire, its head falling to the ground with a loud thud after spraying you in blood. You only notice Sam and Dean have shown up after catching your breath. “Oh…hi” You look at dean awkwardly “sorry, did I take your hunt”

Dean gives you a deadpan look, “yeah–yeah you kinda did” His jaw clenches in frustration 

You flushed in embarrassment “I didn't know you would be here”

“Whatever” He huffs out like a child 

Sam interjects to ease the tension, “how bout we get these bodies burned and have a couple drinks?”

“I would never say no to some help” you say gratefully

Dean gives sam a pointed look, “As long as your paying”

After cleaning up the bodies and cleaning up themselves (who knew killing monsters was messy) the three of them headed to the bar in their separate cars and met up in the parking lot. Dean was the one forcing her to drive separately saying she would mess up baby's backseat somehow. For how much Dean doesn't like you, he thinks about you a lot more than he should. Maybe that's the real reason you frustrate him, you and your stupid face. The way you flush at anything–how do you kill a vamp like it's nothing but shrink under his gaze–you're an enigma and you're stuck in his head. 

Driving to the bar you couldn't help but think about Dean. why was he always so frustrated with you, you didn't want him to hate you–you wished he liked you (like really liked you) You think about him a lot more than you should, he probably forgets about you the second he drives away, but you cant help yourself. Anyone with eyeballs would understand. He's just so…perfect looking. Sure it's a stupid schoolgirl crush but who cares, he hates you. You always try to be so nice, but he's so intimidating with that stupid face on his face. And the worst part is he's a good guy on top of all his hotness. You try to push all the silly thoughts away as you pull into the dive bar parking lot behind the impala, he doesn't like you at all and you're too shy to say anything. Just get drunk and forget it–maybe find a hookup.

You get out of your car and walk across the dirt lot to greet Sam and Dean. “who wants some beers…on me”

“I would love for you to spend money on me” Dean responds with his signature smile

You flush slightly at his smirk “Well then why don't you find us a booth Mr.” You ask while your group enters the bar “you guys like Del Sol right, I think you told me it was your favorite Dean?”

Sam nods “yeah thanks”

As you head over to order the drinks, Dean slides into the nearest empty booth. How did you remember that's his favorite beer, he didn't even remember telling you. There you were being sweet again, god you're infuriating.

You walk up to the bar and patiently wait for the bartender's attention. Unluckily you caught another man's attention before you could place your order. You could feel him looking at you. When his gaze started to roam your figure you started praying–please god let this man leave me alone, he looks like he doesnt wash his asscrack cause ‘its gay’. And please let this bartender have a break so he notices I'm here waiting. I guess you're not one of god's favorites cause soon enough the man approached you “hey doll, whatcha doin here alone”

You awkwardly reply, avoiding eye contact, very obviously uncomfortable “just trying to order some beer”

“Nice, I like a girl who doesn’t order no fruity drink” he tries to flirt back (is he serious, read the room)

Dean huffs in annoyance “lord, what is taking her so long” how do you just continue to frustrate him? When he looks over and notices you being approached by some guy he's even more frustrated. Who is this tool? What is he doing? Wait–why should Dean care, he shouldn't. He looks over at you to see how you're reacting to this guy and it's not good. You're so obviously uncomfortable. This dude sucks. He quickly gets up and makes his way to the bar to save you. When he approaches the man pays no attention to him and continues to talk your ear off about how amazing he is. ‘Yeah sure talk about yourself, that gets the ladies going’ Dean thinks. He quickly shuts down the one sided conversation when he wraps his arm around your waist, making you blush and freeze up. “Hey sweetheart, you get lost tryna get us some beers” He jokes to make the intrusion natural and gives the man a hard stare, sizing him up.

The man looks at Dean with an intimidated expression “what, you her boyfriend or something?”

“Yeah actually” Dean spits out, unable to hide his distaste for the man

The man started getting defensive and put his hands up in surrender “ hey look dude she didn't say she was taken and she was basically asking for it, going out in that low cut top”

That stopped dean in his tracks “what”

For some reason the man started thinking that Dean would be in his side “yeah, the slut was flirting back and everything”

Deans eyebrows raise in shock and he grits his teeth in anger “I dont know who you think your taking to but it better not be me”

You interject, not wanting to get into a bar fight “ let's just get out of here” You pull dean by the arm and take him to the parking lot

As dean follows your lead he turns back and says to the man “you say some shit like that again and im breaking your nose”

When you and dean make it outside he starts pacing and complaining to you, still riled up from the incident while you stand there awkwardly taking the situation in. Why did Dean say he was your boyfriend? I guess to get the guy to stop–but he could have just said he was a friend. You're overthinking so much that everything Dean is muttering about is going in one ear and out the other until you hear something that short circuits your brain.

“Real men don't do shit like that, I would never do that. That guy doesn't even deserve to look at you–calling you a slut–that's bullshit…” Dean rambled on but that was all you picked out before you started spiraling again. What did he mean by ‘I would never do that’? Does he think about you like that? And why is he so worked up? you know that he's a great guy, he would probably do that for any girl but he's still goin on–omg does dean like you? Omg stop being delusional. Why don't you just ask him, if he doesn't like you then he already hates you so it wouldn't ruin anything. I can't do that, that's so embarrassing. Before you could make up your mind about what to do, Dean's voice cuts through your thoughts again, “are you ok?”

“Do you like me” you blurt out before you could think “omg im sorry I didn't mean to say that”

“Are you asking if I have a crush on you…like were in highschool or something” Dean asks, teasing you

You blush at his words, awkwardly avoiding eye contact, “shut up…im not good with these kinda talks…it's just…you said you wouldn't treat me like that and i'm thinking why are you comparing yourself–or putting yourself in that scenario–if you didnt wanna take me out. Also you're like overly worked up about this” you quickly ramble “and I need you to be serious about this, no teasing, cause i'm not good at confrontation–or whatever you would call this”

A look of realization washes over his face, holy shit–now that he's thinking about it–he does like you. Like, highschool crush pull her pigtails to make her notice you–like you. His expression softens as he responds “sweetheart, i'll admit i've been thinking about you more than I should, I never realized what it was–god i've never been this open before–you're sweet, and badass when you need to be. You get so cute when I make you blush. You remember things about me that I don't remember telling you. You're nice to me no matter how much of a dick I am…maybe I do like you”

You release a breath you didn't know you were holding in, “oh thank god, if you didnt I would have just crawled up into a hole and died”

He lightly chuckles “i'm guessing you like me too”

“Duh einstein” You tease and chuckle in response

He finds himself laughing along with you admiring your smile. When the laughter died down it was just you and Dean staring at each other in anticipation till he closed the gap between you and cupped your cheek. His bright green eyes looked deep into yours “can I–”

You smash your lips onto his before he could finish the question. He quickly reciprocates and you share a sweet passionate kiss, expressing everything you're too shy to say. Dean tilts his head to deepen it until you two hear sams footsteps approaching and quickly pull apart, a trail of spit keeping you connected.

“Fucking finally, you two are so annoying” Sam states, relieved that the tension between you and dean is gone. 

“Shut up” Dean breathes out weakly and pulls you closer to his chest.

Yeah maybe you got covered in vamp blood, got hit on by a creep, and never actually got the beer you came to get but you would still call the day a success as you're standing in the dirt parking lot of a trashy bar, wrapped in dean's arms. Bless that lady for paying you to hunt this nest.

as always sorry of there are any typos

love y'all<333

[itsnesss]

Hi, can I request a Axel Kovačević x reader fic in wich the reader is from Furia de pantera but she is not from Barcelona she is from andalusia (you can choose the province you like the most).

So the reader saw how Sensei Wolf treats Axel and has been thinking about it, and she feels guilty about having done nothing about it. Her team see how she is feeling down, so they say to go out to a bar to decompress, and obviously, she says yes. On their way to the bar, after having a bit of girl talk with Maria and Mercedes while getting dressed, she sees Axel in the beach so she tells them to go ahead and that she will meet them in the bar. She talks with him and asks him to go to the bar with her, but he says no because Sensei Wolf has banned him, so he stays focused on the tournament 🙄

So she invites him to her apartment, and she tells Axel that she saw what happened and that she regrets not doing anything and the Axel kisses her and smut happens (?)

I don't know if this makes any sense it comes from the scribbles of one of my notebooks that I have for when I have dreams that I don't want to forget and is really messy. Sorry if it's too detailed. I don't know how to make a request without giving too many details. And maybe there is a second part to this ask, but I don't know if it's ok to ask it, and I feel like I'm asking for too much 😣

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 | axel kovacevik × fem!reader

summary | the request. during the sekai taikai, you notice axel's emotional distress after witnessing his sensei hitting him. concerned for him, you invite qxel to your apartment where you both share an intimate moment, exploring vulnerability and connection

warnings | mention of emotional and physical abuse, smut, explicit content, fingering, oral sex (fem!receives), p in v, unprotected sex

word count | 1.7 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

The Sekai Taikai is everything you expected and more. The atmosphere is charged with adrenaline, every fight a battle for glory and honor, and every dojo striving to prove its supremacy. But while you should be focused on the competition, your mind is caught up in something else.

Or someone else.

Axel Kovacevic.

Since that training session, you haven’t been able to get out of your head what you saw. You were the only one who witnessed it. The only one who knows.

His sensei hitting him.

Axel didn’t defend himself, didn’t say anything, didn’t show anger or pain. He just took it, as if it were normal. And you… you did nothing. You stood frozen, caught between surprise and fear. And now guilt follows you like a shadow.

You try to focus on the tournament, on your fights, on your dojo’s goal. But every time you see Axel, every time you catch that vacant look and his blind obedience, you feel like you’re suffocating.

Maria, your captain, has noticed your odd behavior. During a break, she sits next to you, studying you closely.

"You’ve been quiet lately," she says firmly, as always.

"I’m just tired."

Maria narrows her eyes. She doesn’t believe you.

"You’re not fooling me."

You don’t say anything. You can’t tell her the truth. Because you were the only one who saw it. And because admitting it would mean facing the fact that you didn’t do anything.

Mercedes joins the conversation, crossing her arms.

"You could use a break. Let’s go to the bar tonight."

You want to decline. You’re not in the mood to socialize. But at the same time, you don’t want to be alone with your thoughts. So you agree.

The night air buzzes with energy as you walk through the lit-up streets. Maria and Mercedes laugh and joke, but you remain quiet, keeping pace with them.

That’s when you see him.

He’s sitting on the sand of a nearby beach, his silhouette outlined by the dim glow of the streetlights. Alone, as always.

You stop in your tracks.

"What’s wrong?" Mercedes asks, turning to look at you.

You glance at Axel for a moment before replying, "You two go ahead to the bar. I’ll catch up in a bit."

Maria gives you a suspicious look but says nothing. Mercedes, more carefree, just shrugs.

"Don’t take too long."

You watch them walk away and then take a deep breath before heading toward Axel. The sand crunches under your feet, but he doesn’t react until you’re close enough.

"What are you doing here?" he asks without looking at you, his tone flat as always.

"I should be asking you that."

Axel finally looks at you, his eyes dull and filled with something you can’t quite describe.

"Clearing my head."

You sit next to him, not caring about the sand sticking to your clothes.

"You should come with us. We’re going to the bar. You could relax a little."

Axel shakes his head before you can finish.

"I can’t. My sensei forbade it."

You frown.

"Forbidden what?"

"Going out, distracting myself. He said I should only focus on the tournament."

His words hit you like a punch to the chest. It’s not just what you saw that day; it’s everything this implies. Axel doesn’t live—he merely survives.

"Axel… that’s not right."

"It doesn’t matter if it’s right or not. It’s what I have to do."

You bite your lip, frustrated by his resignation. You can’t force him to change, but you also can’t leave him like this.

"Then come with me to my apartment."

Axel looks at you, startled.

"Your apartment?"

"Yes. Just… come. Let’s talk."

He hesitates for a moment but eventually nods.

"Alright."

The walk to your apartment is filled with an uncomfortable silence. Axel walks behind you, his posture rigid, as if preparing for something. When you finally arrive, you open the door and invite him inside.

Axel steps in cautiously, scanning every corner as though he’s in unfamiliar territory. You sit on the couch and gesture for him to sit next to you.

"I need to tell you something," you start, taking a deep breath.

Axel doesn’t respond, but his gaze locks onto yours, waiting.

"I saw what happened. During training. I saw your sensei hit you."

His eyes darken, and for a moment, it seems like he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t.

"I want you to know I’m sorry for not doing anything. I just stood there, watching, and… I’m sorry."

Axel lowers his gaze, his hands clenched into fists on his knees.

"You didn’t have to do anything," he says finally, his voice barely a whisper. "I’m used to it."

"You shouldn’t be. No one should be."

Axel lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours. For the first time, you see something different in them. Pain. Vulnerability.

You instinctively move closer, placing your hand over his.

"You don’t have to go through this alone."

Axel doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t pull away. Then, before you can think, your lips brush against his.

The kiss is soft at first, filled with hesitation and uncertainty. But then, it’s as if something inside him breaks. His hands, always so restrained, find your waist, pulling you closer.

It’s a kiss filled with repressed emotions, with everything he never says, with everything he never allows himself to feel.

When you finally pull away, Axel lowers his gaze, his breathing unsteady.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice breaking.

You take his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

"You don’t have to thank me. I just want you to be okay."

Axel nods slowly, as though those words are hard for him to process.

"I'm glad you were there," he says, his voice a little louder. I'm glad it was you.

A slight smile appears on his lips. It's so rare to see him smile that it excites you even more. He kisses you again, but this time the kiss is more intense, more desperate.

"I would like to do it," he says, his eyes fixed on you. "I want to do it with you".

You blush.

"Axel…"

"I've imagined it many times," he continues, his fingers caressing your arm. "I have imagined what it would be like, how you would feel under my body"

Your breath catches in your throat. You didn't expect him to say it so openly.

But at the same time... you can't deny that you like it.

"Axel" you say, taking a breath. "Axel, you don't have to..."

"I want," he says, before you can finish. I want a lot.

He looks at you with pleading eyes, and something inside you falls apart.

"All right," you say, before you can change your mind.

Axel smiles, excited, and picks you up in his arms before lifting you off the couch. He guides you to your room with your help.

The first thing he does when they arrive is take off your clothes. He undresses you, trembling a little under Axel's fixed gaze. He takes off his clothes with difficulty, as if he weren't used to it. And when he finally has you naked at his feet, he smiles.

"You are beautiful," he says, with admiration. Exactly as I imagined.

You blush, excited, as Axel kneels between your legs.

"I want to see you," he says, looking at you with an expression full of curiosity. I want to see all parts of you. Tell me what I should do. I want you to enjoy.

You get a little excited by his honesty, but you realize that Axel has no experience in these things. So you take his hand and guide it to your pussy. You place it over your inner lips and apply pressure.

"Here" you say. "Stroke here".

Axel nods and begins to do exactly what you told him, his fingers caressing your lips gently. Then, when he seems more confident, he inserts two fingers into you and begins to move them carefully.

"Is this okay?" he asks. "Do you like it?"

"Yes", closing your eyes. "Yes, more".

"What more?" he says, curious.

"Stronger. Deeper".

Axel bites his lip before obeying, increasing the rhythm and pressure. And while his fingers make love to you, he kisses you as well, his mouth exploring every part of you that he can reach. His lips caress your neck, your breasts, your thighs, until he finally finds your pussy and begins to lick it gently.

"Axel" let go, your hips moving uncontrollably.

"Say it" he says. "Say it. Do you want me to eat you?"

"Yes" you moan, your fingers caressing her hair.

"Well" he says, smiling, and sinks deeper into you.

His lips suck on your inner lips, and his tongue enters you, moving skillfully, making you feel like you're about to explode. And when his fingers return to you, they begin to caress your clitoris, and it's too much for you.

"Axel", your body arching over the bed.

Axel lifts his eyes, excited, as your hips continue to move over his face. Then, before he can stop, you have an orgasm on his lips and fingers.

Axel licks you for a few moments, but then he sits down, his breathing quickened. You blush at his intense gaze.

"You taste so delicious" he says, kissing your thighs. "I love the taste of your pussy"

You get excited by his words, and before you can react, Axel takes your mouth with his, kissing you passionately.

"Axel" you whisper, taking his face in your hands.

"Do you want me to continue?" he asks, with a smile. "I want to fuck you. I want to fuck you until you come again".

"Yes," you say, excited by his words.

And that's exactly what he does.

Axel penetrates you gently, his eyes always on yours, as if he needs to make sure everything is okay. And when you feel comfortable, he begins to move carefully, his rhythmic thrusts.

"Axel" groans "God!"

Axel smiles and kisses you while he fucks you, his lips tracing your breasts and your neck.

"Axel… I'm going to…" you moan, feeling the orgasm approaching.

"Let's go," says Axel. "Come to me"

And you do it.

Your orgasm makes your hips arch over the bed, and Axel keeps fucking you until he also reaches climax.

It spills over you with a whisper of pleasure, and then sits beside you, its fingers caressing your breasts and thighs. You smile, excited by the touch.

"That was... incredible," you say, taking their hand in yours.

"Yes," he says, with a smile.

[mickedy]

Mario fangame concept. The idea is that the number of times you die ingame affects your ending / final boss.

[trauma-bot]

sin eater

[fluffypotatey]

To be honest I am a huge Nalu shipper. But the thing is I want to know the difference between the way Natsu cares about his guildmates and Lucy. Like what is the obvious difference since that boy sees every as Nakama so how can we say that the wag he cares about Lucy is different?

Like even when Erza passed away? (All the way back in first season there was a segment where the guild was gathered at her grave and all) Natsu was still very reactive. Plus he was also said to be depressed even when Lisanna passed.

What's the difference between all of them and Lucy?

the fact that he stayed. the fact that before he met Lucy, Natsu wasn't one to stay in a group or even want to work with anyone besides Happy at the start of the story. hell, he was ready to just file Lucy down as "New Guildmate" once they reached Fairy Tail

but then, Lucy doesn't leave. she follows him on his mission to save Macao despite her not needing to or even really understanding everything about it. she stays and then fights with him and saves him. it's no secret that Natsu is strong and can take care of himself really well. he's been going on solo missions for years now, and no one has really stopped him, but that means he's been in a lot of sticky situations where he and Happy are on their own and have no backup. and yet, without asking, Lucy offers it

and i think this is the moment when Natsu considers that maybe it's okay to have someone there to have his back (sans Happy)

"but Natsu only needed Lucy for the next quest because of the requirements," well, Natsu also wouldn't have taken or even considered that quest if it weren't for Lucy, yeah? he was not a team player (in the picking job's sense) or really wanted other people to help him on his quests sans Happy. and then he goes and picks a job that caters to their team whilst ensuring that Lucy can't say no

or maybe i'm reading too much into it 🤷🏻‍♀️

or maybe Natsu's got horrible abandonment issues that he will latch onto people so fast (Igneel & Lisanna) but also cause him to distance himself so far when left behind (his 1st time at the guild, Lisanna's death). Erza and Gray are Natsu's closet friends after Lisanna and yet they cannot reach him when he closes himself off. and then we have Lucy, who stuck by and had his back, so who is to say Natsu didn't make some contingencies to ensure whether or not she'd join him?

but maybe it's the rose, colored ship glasses i have on

because yeah, Natsu cares for all of his guildmates. the power of friendship is his biggest motivator. when we meet Natsu, our first introductions of him is defending his guild's reputation from Bora (who was using it as a guise for human trafficking) and saving Macao. and our 1st big arc (Galuna Island), where Natsu adamantly refuses to allow Gray to use Ice Shell and sacrifice himself despite how antagonistic they've been to each other. we get Natsu 100% at Erza's defense throughout the Tower of Heaven and he is even ready to defend Wendy though they only met hours ago

Natsu is a character with a bleeding heart and cannot help but wear it on his sleeve, but we don't really see him allow others to fight his battles or have his back until Lucy comes in. to be honest, i don't even think he had his heart on his sleeve until Lucy. he still has a bleeding heart (i don't think anything could stop that), but he was not ready to be open in receiving company because he was so used to it being ripped away from him

that being said: of all the characters he interacts with, he finds Lucy to be someone compatible enough for him to start going on team missions and inviting her on them (for example, his 1st S-class mission, which he stole, he went to her house to show it to her. the fact that part of the reward was a celestial key might be a coincidence, but i wouldn't doubt it as Natsu and Happy's trump card in case she refused)

but yeah, the difference is that he stayed and didn't push her away at the beginning, but instead continued to invite her along with him to the point that doing a mission without Lucy wasn't his regular anymore. compared to the rest of the guild, of whom he spent most of his childhood with, even if he spoke to no one, they would still be around and talk to him anyway. he might not invite them on job and only challenge them to fights, but the guild is his home and a constant in his life, a constant he needs (bc heavy abandonment issues).

"okay, but he still pushed her away after he watched Igneel die right in front of him. and he left the guild for a whole year, too. so what's the difference there?" you may ask.

so 1) Natsu never thought the guild would disband. he returns to Fiore after a year and is the last to know that they disbanded. he assumed, like all the other times before and while he and others were sealed for 7 years, that Fairy Tail would still be there when he returned. he assumed that his disappearance would not impact so hard because the guild would still be around and Lucy would have the others with her

which, did not happen :)

and like, so many guild members go off on jobs, quests, or even just leave for an indiscriminate amount of time (which i, personally, believe was his rationality for leaving), so him being gone for a year was nothing! right? no harm, eh? his plan was never to be gone forever :))))

2) he just watched his father die and lose any chance of having some semblance of a long term reunion with Igneel. he literally lost one of his main driving motivations for getting stronger and taking jobs. before Fairy Tail, before anyone, it was Igneel. and to learn that a) Igneel was always with him to begin with and b) he only got to see him for less than a day after 14 years of nothing......i would feel lost too ngl

man's needed space from everybody. and he also needed comfort, but Natsu has been shown not to really be the character who asks to receive comfort (and when he does receive it, it's usually when he's already emotionally compromised). he is in the habit of shutting people out after being abandoned or losing someone close to him, with his next rationale being to "get stronger" in order to prevent what happened in the past to ever happen in the future.

anyway

what makes this different? well for one, he sent the letter only to Lucy (or it's implied since no one else is shown getting one) because of how the two spend most of their time together. even the line that goes with the panel makes it sound like Natsu is unsure on how the note will be received (maybe even hesitant? but that could be my own hopes)

and one of the 1st people he reunites with after a year is Lucy and we get such a similar parallel to the first chapter of Fairy Tail between the two as if the narrative itself is slotting them together to say "ah yes, now everything is back to normal and new journeys can begin"

but yeah, this is just a long way of saying, that Natsu does love his friends and guildmates but even when he is close to them, he kept to himself (and Happy) and sort of stayed in their orbit but always with some emotional distance because of his fear of abandonment. and then you have Lucy where he will stay for and allow her to orbit around him and he will invite to new adventures no questions asked

that's the difference

[kulliare]

tagged by @shrips for 9 books you'd like to read in the new year! ty for the tag-- i tag @halfagod @albatrossisland @eponine119 @tru-lyly

[deoidesign]

Hello! I just discovered your blog and I immediately became captivated by your webcomic, but I'm unsure where to read all of it. I know it's on Webtoons, but I can see it hasn't been updated for a while, and you still post about it.

Are your physical novels just prints of the webcomic? Are they a continuation? Is the story complete? Thanks in advance!

Hi there!

Glad you found me and are enjoying my comic!

It's only on webtoons, and the story is not complete yet! We're 2/3 of the way through right now. It's currently on hiatus, and it's scheduled to come back in about 2 months!

I'll explain why it's been so long if you're curious, but also for my followers who might also be wondering about it under the cut. Sorry, it's pretty much just me complaining haha

I took a month off I took 2 months to get the books printed I took a month to prepare my next comic and I took 2 months to write the rest of the series (I knew the character arcs I wanted, but not the time periods or mysteries!!!) I've been working on actual episodes since then

I had to take some time off because of some pretty extreme burnout due to the sheer amount of work it was to draw over 800 pages and write 6 complete stories in a year and a half... I was getting sick almost weekly due to the overwork, it was really really bad honestly. I was having to work 60+ hours every week just to keep up...

The nature of the comic itself is also difficult... Each of the arcs is a complete, self contained story which can be read (ideally) without context, and my arcs need to be about 10-13 episodes each... And since I have an exact number of episodes to work with, it's even harder.

It takes a ton of planning and a ton of refinement, and working week to week with no breaks I was forced to put out second or even first drafts, so I just wasn't happy with the work I was doing... And to do that for the rest of the series? I wouldn't be proud of the work I did.

Plus... To be entirely honest, webtoon has treated me quite badly IN MY OPINION... They deprioritized me before I launched (I had to beg for more promotion, I'm not exaggerating), they outright denied me the opportunity to even ask for a raise, I don't make any money on fast pass and they pay me less than my partner makes working at trader joes. My first editor left me completely hanging, my second editor (who I loved) was fired... And they told me I wouldn't get a third season before my first season even finished. So it was just repeatedly completely demoralizing.

I'm sorry it has taken so long, it'll have been 10 months by the time I come back. But I realized... I won't get promotion either way. I won't get more episodes either way. I won't get more money either way. So to finish everything, to make it feel good, to make it something I'm proud of, I chose to take longer to make it better.

I am fully aware I will lose a significant amount of my readership for this and it might genuinely affect my career moving forward. But it's what I had to do! So I'm sticking to my guns on it, and I'm confident long term it'll be worth it. It never could have been this good if I didn't take this much time.

[can-of-slorgs]

The other researchers are also here! (magical edition!)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what is your favorite thing about charles and your favorite thing about erik? separately, as in what you like most about their characters :]

a devious question this one is, my friend!!! it's hard enough for me to explain my thoughts cohesively, but having to pick ONE thing i particularly love is difficult. with characters like charles and erik, theres been so much done with their characters over the decades and so they have so many components to them that make them so interesting and fun to observe. BUT I TRY FOR YOU TODAY. under the cut i kinda ramble and the size of this text box makin me anxious

i think if i were to be simple and broad, what i enjoy most about charles is his determination to help others, even if he isn't really thanked and/or if people don't even like him. ofc, this isn't to say he hasn't done wrong- to be honest, the fact he does wrong/questionable things at times is another aspect of him i really enjoy, maybe because- broadly speaking- he's meant to be altruistic (intent vs outcome and all that). i don't know if that's super exciting to most people, but it is for me

as for erik, my reason for liking him is easier to explain tbh. To Be Simple And Broad, his progression from villain to antihero over the decades has been fun to observe (as much as i have so far anyhow) and analyze. i think to be a bit more specific, him using his rage and pain as justifications for his villainous actions is definitely what compels me the most: hurt people hurt and the sort, an idea i've always found interesting (something something vicious cycles and the like). yet now, he recognizes this wasn't really. A Just Thing To Do and is beginning to change that, which i enjoy