#cause man im not used to like... any of those angles

[mbat]

this was an idea i had last year that i found in my files and decided to revive. woe, angst be upon ye

[matrixwhore]

iwtv ep 1 rewatch thoughts

[i am eating Popeyes right now and i promise didn’t plan it this way, but seeds were planted so here we are.]

first things first we [the viewers] are introduced to our two time Pulitzer Prize winning professor Daniel Malloy. We all come to this course with a variety of understandings of the topic just like in any other course. Right off the bat he’s telling us of his expertise in a pervious recording and at the same time we witness his visible skepticism of his own claims in the more nuanced present setting. if you think he’s the only reliable character it’s very much being challenged in the first few moments, which i’m sure has been pointed out many, many times.

he flips the channel there’s a war happening (clue about where we’re at in terms of timeline?? idk. i’ve only engaged with AMCverse so maybe?) and flips it again and the fantastical is going to become a reality. he just has to put the pieces he doesn’t have together so he sits down to do a puzzle (a devils minion easter egg apparently) and he’ll get those pieces by accepting the extended invitation sent to him by none other than Louis de Pointe du Lac, which picks up from his mail box after trying to fit missing pieces together. very solid intro.

Daniel: Why get any closer to the bug than i need to?

he says before he gets on an international flight and exposes himself to countless risks. It’s what he does tho right? i’ve seen a couple sc of the books where he describes Armand as looking like an insect. he is not put off by getting close to perceived bugs. Its funny tho as he’s asking the question, he’s unboxing the answer—louis’ handwritten invitation—as to what would be worth risking your life for right above the devils minion easter egg.

-bc the bug has been following your career (like the way armand followed him yes?) and you like that

-bc the bug wants you and has invited you and you are a risk taker in the ways an investigative journalist has to be to get to the story/truth. in a way a man who refused to face his mortality chooses to be as pointed out by the lovely tumblr user blueiight here (hope it’s okay that i linked you. lmk)

Louis definitely clinging to threads of the past. in 2020 he’s sending hand written letters (on papers with Lestat’s initials) instead of emails and original cassette recordings instead of digital recordings. A lot if not all of his threads to humanity are threads to the past (“in my day” old headass) since right now he seemingly doesn’t really have any connection to humanity in the modern time. being an out of touch billionaire will do that to you, on top of being a century old vampire.

I think thats another evil that gets overlooked when some of y’all are looking for “he’s just as bad” reasons to pin on him. Instead of the imaginary he bit claudia before bringing her to Lestat…like…in addition to his pimping he’s literally a billionaire. like its right there. that encapsulates the worst ways to exist in this world. he the manpire of humanity as well like…

which i guess is goes into the many faces of violence that fade to the background and don’t get called out enough. violence isn’t alway brutality and i noticed just this past couple of days people only see violence when it’s in tandem with brutality, but im not about to sit here and lecture y’all cause that’s not at all fun. and thats why im doing this. bc its fun. i just think this show does a wonderful job of showing the spectrum of violence and evil and i think you do a great disservice to what they have done here if you’re only seeing those things from one angle. and i think thats one of the reasons why so many people struggle with Lestat and don’t appreciate how masterfully (no pun intended) he’s been crafted bc you don’t recognize those things [violence and evil] anywhere else in the story as being as bad.

if thats Daniels box of the past he doesn’t have much kids stuff, just a pink stuffed animal and a bike helmet, so i wonder how much of his kids lives he’s really missed. Like it doesn’t even seem like there was a joint custody situation where they spent a great deal of time at his home as well. idk maybe he has things in storage. but i’m curious about that and how that parallels with how louis let his own child down as has been pointed out.

ngl he look tf good while he listening back to this tape 😩😅 someone zoomed in on his muscle flexing when he pressed play and i just want to say to you i agree wholeheartedly with you whoever you are.

he mad tho. snatched that letter up quick after pausing the tape. 😂

He dives into the (possible) eternal sunset on a highway that looks like water.

If this is a way to get Lestat’s attention, which I think it can be said is a part of why this second interview is happening given the papers Louis chose to write the invitation on, I think its very pointed that Louis is introducing himself as a keeper of knowledge considering one of his (possible*) final moments with lestat as pointed out here.

one of the last things Lestat ever did before he was poisoned, had his neck sliced, and was dumped in a garbage yard to feed on rats, was humiliate Louis about his love of books and claim the role of the knowledge keeper in their family. I think its a very pointed message that this is a book (especially with all the mediums available in 2020), of course Louis loves books, but also Lestat has beef with books lol (Between Gabrielle and Louis). If there’s anyway to get a rise out him (hehe) its a book where Louis is identified as the knowledge keeper of the immortal life Lestat gave to him. and it’s written by a savory inferior as well. louis could have written the book himself. God knows he has the skill, time and the access to do it so that was intentional. Lestat gone drop through the ceiling of the dubai penthouse in a rage.

*possible final moments bc we don’t know yet if Louis has seen Lestat since Paris etc. etc. which i think he will see him in paris bc of Rolins “can’t burn him twice” comment, but i’m open to being wrong.

i haven’t pointed out anything that hasn’t been discussed extensively, but this is a verrryy solid opening introduction to the show. right off jump they established this to be a well crafted episode.

i need yall to know right now that as we go forward in this episode i cannot be held accountable for who i become when faced with brown eyed louis’ fine self. you’ve seen it yourselves please don’t hold this against me!!!! i am not god’s strongest soldier! i am weak at the knees! i will buckle! i will fold!

[philtstone]

Sam and AJ and Cass, 29

#29 -- a story that never gets told

a prequel of sorts to my belovedly unhinged magical realism au, the original of which can be read on ao3 by clicking here. i wrote this prompt in random snippets on the subway, so hopefully its coherent. it kind of got away from me, but im leaning into the multiple indulged elements. most importantly, to answer zainabs oft asked question, "is this the one where he can turn into a whole ass wolf?" yes. yes it is.

Sam, as he has told his sister many a time, could learn — hypothetically — to be a great parent if he wanted to. Instead, he nobly chooses to fight for what’s right. This involves on occasion saving innocent lives amidst the unexpected collapse of Kingdoms, and more often petty magical crime, like that idiot who started going around stealing peoples sheep by herding them into his backyard, which he’d doused in a layer of magically un-solvent superglue. Thank God for Clint’s solvent arrows, which is a sentiment Sam brings up smugly whenever his sister expresses disdain towards the usefulness of magical items in completing household chores.

All of that was before Steve vanished into thin air, leaving Sam with custody of an ancient shield and a perpetually moody shapeshifter.

Hypotheticals are abounding just now. Hypothetically, Steve could just be on one long spontaneous vacation that he even logged in the shared magical calendar, which Bucky inconveniently misplaced on that last trek from North country down here. Hypothetically, Steve could have been kidnapped by a unicorn — those things are known to fuck with you just cause they can — and is currently being held in a magically enforced glade and subjected to a game of 21 riddles. Hypothetically, Steve could just be dead. Smallpox, common cold, unanticipated ogre attack on side of road. If Sam might say so himself, even the best of ‘em can get jumped sometimes; ain’t no shame in it.

“If Steve was dead, why hasn’t his ghost shown up to tell us that?” Bucky asks. He has elaborate theories on the matter, half of which involve the unicorn. The other half involve deep and cutting betrayal. Or murder.

“Steve Rogers did not just up and decide to play double agent,” Sam says, rolling his eyes. Bucky is never truly serious about this. He brings up potential intrigue in every conversation purely out of habit. And, Sam supposes begrudgingly, experience.

“So, murder.”

“Maybe ghost Steve is havin’ too much of a good time,” Sam says. “Remember that fae chick he was sweet on, and they got separated decades ago? Got him all stoic and single tear-y when her name came up? Carried her picture in his dumb little locket? She could be dead. They could be partying it up in the afterlife.”

“Bastard,” Bucky says grumpily, about Steve. “I’d tell you guys, if I died without you knowing.”

“Accidentally died,” insists Sam.

Bucky scowls. “I maintain we haven’t ruled out the double agent angle.”

“Oh my God!” says Sam, and throws his hands up in the air.

They have this exchange multiple times.

Sam sees the merit in the murder angle, but doesn’t necessarily like acknowledging it out loud. First of all, admitting Bucky might be right is always annoying, so he avoids doing it. Second, that shit’s bad juju, especially down here; you never know when a shadow man is listening in.

Just in case Ghost Steve really was murdered and forgot to tell them, though, Sam decides to conduct some scientific experiments. He makes Steve’s favourite gumbo (Sam’s mom’s recipe, of course – no one else’s can hold a candle) and bangs the pot lid loudly over the stove in case there are any spirits around to notice. He flips through Steve’s private sketchbook, left behind in Sam’s napsack — another clear evidence that he hasn’t turned coat — and makes childish faces at all the nude figures to trigger Steve’s artistic sensibilities. Then he leaves it out where the kids could find it, to trigger Steve’s moral sensibilities. 

Bucky takes more extreme measures. He goes out into the yard and yells, “Hey, jerk! You ever thought about what a basket case I’d be without you here? You don’t even got the decency to explain yourself?” after dark, into the droopy shapes of the mangrove trees. 

“Is he gonna start howling at the moon?” Sarah asks Sam one evening, though not unkindly, while they do the dishes and watch Bucky go at it through the small kitchen window.

Sam doesn’t say anything. Privately, he kind of feels like doing the same. 

Then, about three months later, after a near-coup and the revelation of multiple conspiracies and a big old honking blockade being put up all through South country, the Wakandans show up. With – holy shit, Sam thinks – a message from Steve.

“Uncle Sam, you’ve already told us that story.”

Okay, so speaking of parenting. Yeah, yeah, Sam would be a great parent in some alternate universe of events decidedly different from this one. In this universe, getting his nephews to bed at a reasonable hour when only this afternoon, a bunch of fancy people in red armour were holding a super secret outlaw meeting in the barn is proving harder than it looks. Sam almost wishes he was dealing with old Paste-Pot Pete and those sheep again.

“Uh, no I have not,” says Sam. “This version has added embellishments. The Wakandan King never challenged me to a duel, that was all Bucky’s bad luck.” 

“We’re calling ritual vengeance duels now?” asks Bucky dryly. 

“I’m just sayin’, I’m making a bunch of this up here. I am exercising creativity. Story version number one didn’t have any flying dwarves in it.”

Bucky is sitting in the doorway to the kids’ bedroom and attempting to de-encrust his favourite boots, which went through the ringer a bit on their way down through the bayou to Sarah’s three months ago. That was just after this all started. A lot’s changed since then.

Like the fact that Bucky is even in this house, cleaning boots. Or Sam’s newly discovered inability to lull little boys to sleep via adrenaline filled adventure stories while their mother takes a care package to the neighbours’ pregnant daughter in law. Sarah was very excited to see the newest in maternity fashion, which apparently Marlene had been sporting in the village all week, purchased from traveling dressmakers who might have had fae blood. Those guys always do know how to cut a cloak well. 

Bucky sniffs loudly at Sam’s defense and pulls an exaggerated face, raising the poor boot up to eye level to inspect it. “Maybe you’re just bad at telling stories,” he says finally.

While AJ and Cass giggle like the traitors they are, Sam makes a loud offended noise.

“Alright,” he says. “Fine. Fine. You know what? Just for that, I’m telling the story of how all of Petruski’s sticky sheep started followin’ your fluffy white wolf ass around.”

AJ dissolves into even harder giggles. Cass says, “Not the sheep story Uncle Sam! All you do in that one is complain!” and Bucky says, more primly than he has any right to, “I was consciously being as non threatening as possible, Samuel.”

“Yeah,” Sam says, “so non threatening they thought you were one of ‘em.”

AJ is really starting to wheeze now, so Sam hauls him into his arms to disrupt the hilarity before it gets medical. Cass brings his pillow up over his head like a crown to smother his own laughter. And Bucky winks, before – in a devastating play – letting out a quiet, plaintive pair of baas in quick succession.

Routines like this one are becoming more and more real. More and more comfortable, Sam thinks, amidst the boys’ shrieks of laughter. Being here, being in this home (their home – The home?) it fills his heart with something warm and solid and unmoving. Like he has put down a heavy load. Sometimes it is hard to imagine what is so important that makes it worth picking up sword and shield and leaving this behind. Without this, where would any of them even be?

It’s just, that thought doesn’t stop the rest of the world from banging on their door sometimes. 

Just look at Steve’s cryptic as hell note. The me you know isn’t dead. Seriously. What the fuck. Sam almost wishes he really was dealing with a unicorn.

He settles on telling the story of how he and Steve once met that tiny shrinking guy and between Captain Rogers’ knightly loyalty to his friends, some of Redwing’s more heroic moments, and the addition of the brilliant mage-princess who gifted Bucky the enchantment for his arm, both boys are appeased.

“Uncle Sam,” Cass says, sleepily, towards the tail end of the story. “’S no fair that magic skips a generation. I wanna help save the kingdom like you do.”

Sam quiets, his hand stilling where it was in the middle of brushing over AJs forehead. AJ is already fast asleep. Knocked out cold, snoring and everything. 

Thing is, Sam’s brand of magic is pretty limited — some gimmick, even, nowhere close to what his Titi had. All Sam’s good for, practically speaking, is translating messages from carrier pigeons. But it got him into this bigger world, tangled him up in it. 

Sam can see, even though Bucky’s head is down, that his friend’s expression has taken on a slight grimness.

“Cass. Hey.” Sam knuckles the boy’s nose gently. “What do you mean, like me. You know how I keep this old kingdom safe? I help your mama do the dishes.”

“Uncle Sam,” Cass says, rolling his sleepy thick-lashed eyes. 

Sam sighs. “Cass. Just because it doesn’t make for a good story doesn’t mean it isn’t important.”

More important, even. Running this old house, and its garden (with all those gnomes, little pains-in-the-ass) and its boat.

“Muh huh,” Cass manages. And then he has drifted off, the side of his face squished against the pillow.

Sam and Bucky quietly relocate to the kitchen, where Redwing is awaiting them with a new note and a dead mouse.

“Jesus,” Bucky mutters.

“You better not be about to get in a piss fight with a kestrel when there are sleeping children in the next room.”

As if on cue, Redwing flaps over lands happily on Bucky’s shoulder, startling him. The little bell on his foot jingles, and Bucky glares, which does nothing to deter the little bird’s impulse to start throwing up what appears to be more mouse. 

Bucky stands perfectly still and looks awfully close to raptorcide. 

Dude, can you like, be normal for once, Sam says, to the bird. Redwing fluffs out all of his feathers in Bucky’s face in response. 

“I don’t get into piss fights with your kestrel, Sam,” Bucky says, gritting each word out with individuality. 

Redwing twitters happily. 

He’ll come around eventually, Sam replies. He scoops the bird up in both hands and re-situates him on his own arm, and begins untying the little package wired to Redwing’s foot. Out loud, he adds, “You know, he wants to be your friend so badly –”

“He’s the one who chews through my best leather breeches twice a month –” Bucky cuts himself off, grumbling under his breath and reaching over to fumble the parchment scroll out of Sam’s hand while its messenger hops in one place and nuzzles the crown of his feathery head into Sam’s armpit. Sam’s poorly concealed smile fades when Bucky openly frowns.

“Note’s from Nakia,” Bucky mutters, tapping the amulet bracelet on his right wrist against the similar shape of beaded stone etched into the scroll’s covering as Sam strokes Redwing’s head. 

“It’s – what?”

“What what.”

“From another dimension,” Bucky reads aloud, looking increasingly incredulous. 

“What?” 

“You already said that.” Sam rolls his eyes. Bucky makes a face at the scroll. “Always gotta be another fuckin’ gimmick. Well. She’s got a guy to decode it.”

“Didn’t she cast the spell?” asks Sam, who is still processing the dimension thing. As in, like, different from their own?

Is that where Steve is?

“Yeah, but only to keep anyone else from decoding it. The bracelet itself already had a message stored in it.” 

“Beyond Steve’s disembodied voice materializing outta nowhere the first time I touched that thing to prove he hasn’t kicked the bucket.”

“Which,” Bucky starts, “for the record –”

“Was not your theory.”

Bucky frowns harder. Refocuses. “Yes. The bracelet, which was clearly a magical object enchanted to respond to your touch –”

“Could’a been our touch, you never held it before I did –”

“Fine, sure, our touch – double enchantment. This thing is stolen, and someone – my guess is Steve – managed to layer another goddamn spell on it before sending it our way.”

Sam sighs, staring at the gleaming dishes in the drying rack. A box of Arm and Magical Hammer’s peroxide sits orange and to the side. Maybe this is why Sarah refuses to use any of the handy dandy domestic enchantments he brings home for her. 

Because magic’s a pain in the ass.

“So?” says Sam.

“Uh, yeah. She’s got a guy to decode it …” Bucky grimaces, “on the other side of the river.”

Oh. Oh. Yeah, that’s gonna be rough.

“I can’t go through a GRC checkpoint,” Sam says. Redwing makes a mournful sound of agreement. Bucky is still turning the note over and over as if maybe reading it upside down will change its mystifying contents. 

“They’d recognize your beautiful knightly face,” he agrees, reciting Sam’s proffered explanation. “And then search all your bags and spook your horse. You know, she’s way too sensitive.”

“Clara ain’t sensitive, she’s emotionally intelligent. There’s a difference,” Bucky mutters something about Sam busting out his inner kingdom social worker lingo on them and Sam adds, “and you can go through a GRC checkpoint even less, by the way.”

“To be fair,” Bucky says, “they have kinda fucked up my nose in all those wanted posters. Maybe they wouldn’t recognize me.”

They both sit down at the table, resigned. It’s a sticky problem. Sam supposes, as Bucky pulls his favourite dagger out and begins flipping it in a broody manner, that they could take Sharon’s smuggler’s detour behind the wall, but she’d ask too many questions. Sending Redwing on his own is too risky (Sam admits, begrudgingly and in the privacy of his own mind). Clint’s roped into a local problem with a gang of overall-wearing gnomes, Bruce has started teaching a yoga of ogres class, even Joaquin just set up shop marketside selling his scroll encryption services … Sam’s stomach growls, and the lingering smell of spiced rice hits his nose. Sarah’s left a potfull on the stove, for them, probably. She blusters plenty, has real right to be angry plenty, and has a mean right hook, but she loves him. And she’s a lot tougher than she looks, Sam’s come to realize. Kept this whole village alive over the years with her caring, and even after they set up the blockades she charmed the border officers better than Sam or Bucky ever could.

Sam clicks his tongue against his teeth and says, “Huh.”

“What,” says Bucky.

“Lemme run a hypothetical by you.”

“Oh no.” Bucky rubs a finger over the bridge of his nose. “You always do this to me. I started like that once –”

“And have had many terrible no good get Sam’s ass in trouble plans since, brother.” Sam crosses his arms; Rewind flaps over to his little perch by the bookshelf in deference. “Hypothetically, you don’t have to look like yourself. Right?”

Bucky looks at him warily. “Well … no.”

“And … hypothetically –”

“Sam …”

“If a familiar person, say … the nice lady who used to take her gumbo to the community house every week. Was to have that bracelet in her box the next time she went –”

“You wanna send your sister through the woods on her own in this economy?” Bucky interrupts, baffled.  

Sam lifts his chin. Raises his eyebrows. Wags his head a little bit. Chirp, says Redwing from across the room, which Sam might roughly translate to it’s not rocket science, pal.

It takes Bucky a moment to get it, but when it clicks, it’s obvious.

“Oh, no,” he says, a slow horror growing in his face. “No. No, no, no, no way. I refuse, Sam.”

“I haven’t asked anything yet!” Sam says, very mildly put out.

Bucky levels the pointy end of the dagger at him. “No. You’re not entrusting me as the sole keeper of your sister’s safety in the wilderness!”

Sam leans back in his chair, eyebrows raised. “And who the hell else am I gonna entrust as the sole keeper of my sister’s safety in the wilderness?” Bucky makes a disbelieving little cawing noise, like a sad crow, to which Sam adds, deliberate: “Come on, Buck. Be serious.”

Bucky does not answer, as he seems to go through twelve different emotions at once, silently. Sam, who can acknowledge at sword-point that this is maybe a little mean of him, given Bucky’s profound loyalty to his friends and poorly-concealed devotion to said sister (hmph), gives him a minute. Finally, Bucky manages, 

“Anyone! Someone who didn’t spend the last eighty years magically entrapped by a cabal of fascist wizards in the body of a murderous rabid animal!” 

He waves his free hand, which was previously clutched in his hair for something to do. He’d look a bit wild if he didn’t look so thoroughly mundane sitting there in his shirts with his boots off. 

Well, okay. The knife’s a little intense. But it’s not like Sarah’s kitchen isn’t stacked with em.

Sam pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Okay, first of all. Rabid is just flat out inaccurate.”

“Sam,” Bucky grinds out.

“I’m just sayin’,” Sam says. “You’re not diseased. And like, present day wolf you can even be kinda cute. You seen how fluffy you are? Those sheep definitely did.”

Bucky actually growls at him.

“That doesn’t actually dispute my point,” says Sam, “which is that this, right here, is objectively our best plan.”

“I won’t do it.”

“I’m asking you, Bucky.”

“It’s a terrible plan!”

“Says the guy who only ever comes up with the most unhinged plans ever!”

They glare at each other, for a prolonged, stone-headed moment. Sam thinks that next time he tells the kids a bedtime story, he should include a Mexican standoff somewhere in there. Then Bucky raises the knife again, very very slowly.

“Only if Sarah says yes.”

“Which,” Sam agrees, “is extremely unlikely. If magic could be wrapped up in a tiny little football, she’d probably drop kick that thing into the Mississippi like a quarterback.”

Marginally, Bucky’s face relaxes.

“Yeah,” he says, and now Sam is starting to feel some relief too, because really, what the hell is he thinking? Sending his baby sister out into the wilderness so they can all uncover some great conspiracy … “Yeah. Yeah, okay. If she says yes, I’ll do it.”

And then, of course, she does.

[system-of-a-feather]

can i eat your anatomy skills? yes my style is much more cartoony but you managed to make really good muscles on your characters and i need to learn how to do that.

saldfjlkadf thank you thank you

I honestly just really like drawing muscles and admittedly looking at them and building them look collectively as a system we are muscle heads don't @ me too loudly its 100% part of that whole meme of someone who draws feet TOO well but me @ muscles

Currently I'm kinda in what is probably best summarized as a "study period" of drawing in the sense that I'm mostly focusing on doing things with heavy references and reviewing / polishing how I like to go about doing things and trying some more experimental things rather than explicitly necessarily going in with the intent to draw something in specific.

Usually my art during study periods are either moderate flops or some of my best things I draw until i cycle back to another study period.

(For the record, I don't plan study vs practice periods, they just follow with my mood as I get tired and loose interest of both if Im on one long enough; I don't recommend anyone study if they feel its something they "have" to do)

But like the one - if you mean the Xiao one where dudes fucking shirtless cause I had too much fun with the anatomy - that one I was partially doing specifically to review muscles and to also try to use them in a bit more of a like... odd / dynamic perspective / camera angle

I usually spend a good time looking through pinterest and google and stuff for things I'd like to study, reference, and do an artwork based on during study periods and then I pick one of the like 80+ OCs that I think would work well with the thing I felt like studying

In that case I found this (image below the keep reading, cw shirtless man with male presenting nipples) on pinterest and I REALLY liked the pose and how the chest and waist were connected in a much more fluid manner than the standard poses + the not-standard camera angle and really wanted to play with it

Best thing for learning muscles though is to reference nude / partially nude photos of people, unironically looking at muscle group diagrams and seeing the general shape of muscle groups in the body, and HONESTLY looking at other artists and how they approach drawing muscles and meat on the body

I'm honestly not the best with more cartoony (and even anime since I consider mine like anime-esque semi realism) so I don't think I can give any direct advice on how to do it in a less-realistic manner cause I struggle with the concept of less-realistic styles but if I were to guess it'd be to learn the general muscle areas and their shapes and see how you can incorperate those shapes into your art ^^

Also this is generally a description of how muscles work which can help kinda figure out what might be off with a drawing of muscles - but honestly this is just a kinda more niche formal knowledge thing

-Riku

[mothlegs]

eurgh

dreamt basil abused me :/ or dreamt that i dreamt it? idk. it was all the same as before. i was still finding ways to take all the blame so he wouldn't have to change or ever be in the wrong

and like. i definitely did suck severely but so did he and i was the only one taking any kind of responsibility, just like irl

gehh. stupid dream

it was like. he left a message for me on amino that he was going to sleep and i should put that in my discord status and we'd talk in the morning? and cause i'm still a stupid loyal dog i did that. his profile picture was blue and his username started with knee ..??

but. in the dream i dreamt he sexually assaulted and i think physically abused me too? i was talking to someone about it, about how my real vision/memories had high contrast and the dream ones were the same just in grey. i wondered if it wasn't just a dream (i know it is irl since i never met him in person)

we fought, physically, for a while. think there was glass and knives involved. i triggered him on purpose and accused him of race faking and faking being jewish? which? irl he is white and Not jewish? i was doing it just to hurt him, i said that to the other person later, and it felt like this big revelation that would fix everything. i used to have those all the time, i'd realise something that could he viewed as being my fault and i'd immediately do everything i could to change, because he wouldn't change and i somehow thought that if i just did everything, that would make him care about me, would make him stop hurting me. god damn stupid i was

other dream stuff. i was friends with this guy whose brother was intellectually disabled? and it was the brothers birthday so i was invited. not a lotta other people were, just a few kids his age (6-8 idk)

they were like. rich.? and somehow i ended up. erughh just remembered what happened next. i somehow ended up babysitting the kid, his? her? idk im saying his- his name was tay, and he also had some movement related disabilities and i think food related ones too

i got along w this kid really well, he used AAC and even at the party i seemed to be the one including him the most?? like we were considering going to some place and i was the only one who actually Asked tay if he wanted to go or if he was ok with us going without him

but anyways. uhh something. Weird. happened. there was a Dude. outside. who was. imitating me.? like... trying to copy how i look. it was really freaky

i told tay to know what i looked like n stuff and to not ever trust that other guy, and then i went down to i guess fight him

and Fight Him I Sure Did. he had some kinda sharp weapon and i had. something. some kinds tools idk what they were

he managed to cut me once and *i* managed to stab him through the mouth into his head. at an angle where every time he moved, he crushed his skull further. the sound was so disgusting, i couldnt look at it and he wouldnt stop

i was screaming for help and some woman came over, said something about hannah, andd. idk i guess that was okay then

i went back in the house and tried to make food but i cant cook so it went bad. tay was sitting on the counter trying to guide me buy man i am Bad

then his dad came home and was like. i told you i put food in the fridge. and i jus OH. I. COMPLETELY FORGOT. SORRY. and he said it was fine blehbleh

i told him about the weird dude (really unsettling and scary the entire time something was Wrong with him) and he got kinda Hh and said something about hannah too, but also that we couldnt talk here. i understood, the walls had eyes, metaphorically.

aaand that was p much it. think thats all i remember. i kinda miss tay and also his brother they were cool. feel like i dreamt more but i forgot u.u

[bluewizardnonesense]

Magic dialogue

I am new to this app and I cant fi d the original post but this is following the post with the idea that wizards should trust their spells as much as software engineers trust their programs, which is to say, not at all.

“So what new spells are you working on?”

“A teleportation spell, Im trying to get it to be more cost effective than Malcazzar’s”

“Oh really? What language are you using?”

“Elder futhark”

“El-Im sorry what!? Elder futhark? Not even Younger? I mean dont get me wrong, I love Elder, my staff only has Elder runes, you cant get any simpler than one rune, one effect. But, for teleportation!? Its the most basic elemental runic language in existence, but trying to get any effect outside of the basics increases the size of the scroll like nothing else. And teleportation is notoriously tricky.”

“Yeah its been tough, and the scrolls are getting pretty long.”

“I mean are you running into recursion? Just patching the kinks in the code would require quite a few runes, and then more runes to fix those problems, not to mention all the other effects and power sources.”

“Yeah well Elder is the language i know best, and its actually showing promise. Since the system is so basic each rune has quite a lot of possible effects, its just a matter of finding the right grammar to express it. Ive found a few good combinations, now its just a matter of condescending it.”

“I see, say, what kind of power source are you using?”

“Right now to save my own mana Im using wall power, im just running it through a standard elemental conversion matrix to get it to interface well.”

“Oh christ, how many times have to tripped a breaker cause you tripped over it?”

“Only about 3 times or so”

Both laugh.

“Well what about you, what are you working on”

“Oh im forcing myself to learn Icelandic Stave magic.”

“Oh no, why?”

“Oh im a masochist, but really im using it as an introductory system for geometric magics. I tried learning alchemical circles in school but the last time i used one I messed up the power source portion and it ‘law of equalivilant exchanged’ it’s way into eating a hole in my floor.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“You dont know how close my foot was to it.”

Both laugh, the second wizard nodding, “yeah I can see how that would dissuade you”

“Thats the best lesson my teacher ever taught me. ‘A fool learns from his own mistakes, a wise man learns from other’s mistakes’ he lost three fingers on one hand before he realized he should have been poking things using a stick.”

“So he started using a stick?”

“No after losing a finger you now have a designated hand for poking things”

Both laugh, the first wizard speaks again “so yeah im hoping by dipping my toes in, pun intended, this time into basic geometry Ill be able to finally wrap my head around those blasted archaic instructions, i could never keep the angles right, i always ended up with a stray line here, or an aberrant circle there, when i was lucky the spell would fail, when i was unlucky the spell would fail spectacularly and we would then have to hunt down what spawned from it.”

“Oh I definitely get that, i once fell asleep during the class where we learned mentally projecting fine detail into the work as it was formed with alchemical circles, our task was to recreate a bust of merlin from blank stone. Well the circle i drew was great, but i must have been dreaming of maidens because the bust ended up having one, as well quite the mockery of a face.” Both laugh, “yeah i got in some trouble for that one”

“Right now im trying to get my team’s head wizard to finally accept that we dont need to spend the ridiculous rates for ‘genuine’ ingredients when substitutes with some adjustment work just as well. We almost got into a full blown duel when he asserted that he could only accept real basilisk petrified eggs. For one, basilisk’s are notoriously kept in terrible conditions by crackpots, 2nd its three times the price of any chunk of basalt and all you need to do is look up one formula to calculate how much quarts and marble dust to add. He said ‘oh but i dont want to add anymore ingredient circles’ like bitch, adding ingredient circles and three lines of runic code to incorporate them is the easiest thing to do, its literally the building blocks of spell craft. And dont get me started on unicorn tears. Everyone worth their wand knows that its as simple as adding sea salt to holy water. ‘But its not genuine unicorn tears’ he says, and im like fucker, make a unicorn cry, see how you feel about yourself, then tell me how much cruelty is worth for ‘genuine’ components, the twat.”

[amazingphilza]

twitchcon :: cc!multiple x reader

fluff , platonic , gender neutral ! some mcyt headcanons if you were to attend twitchcon w them

cc’s included in order: tommyinnit , tubbo , ranboo , wilbur soot , philza , technoblade

cw: kinda lengthy for the minors (i think), not as much for the hags LMAO /hj

tommyinnit

this man is so excited to be at his first twitchcon & being able to hang out with all his best friends makes it a hundred times better

when he isn’t at a panel or doing meet & greets, he’s dragging you everywhere to see the whole convention center (clingyinnit)

he is just so at awe despite this not being his first convention to attend

you’d be surprised he gets tired pretty quickly & stops over to the partner lounge

you both rest for a bit against a wall in a pretty packed hallway despite it being an exclusive area to twitch partners

every time a famous streamer walks by he will yell it out and record it then vlog your reaction, even if they’re surrounded with bodyguards & trying to get to another place quickly

he’d zoom in his camera to their face at a horrible angle and be like

“oh my god it is THE ninja. ninja famous fortnite player, HELLO.”

but he gets completely ignored

then the camera pans out to you, still really zoomed in that the capture is blurry

“ninjainnit?”

“EH?”

tommy is so confused, forgetting the bit ninja did on his twitter where he renamed himself ‘ninjainnit’ for a split second

okay tommy isn’t that athletic but he will chase you and the rest of your group down a hallway if he had to

he’d probably find a toy gun from the artist alley/seller booths and shoot you and wilbur with it

but if tommy stumbles across any of the dream team, it’s about to be minecraft manhunt but irl

and he will def play his stream music while walking or smth when he’s bored (or trying to jump dream & sapnap)

** DO DO DO DO MANHUNT MUSIC **

oh my god,, now thinking about it he’s probably the one to open like random doors of empty rooms and steal stuff while you film him

like he will take a random empty glass, a bunch of pens, a freebie t-shirt, everything he sees he takes with him and you’re just panic

“tommy we’re literally not supposed to be here, and i’m stuck here filming you. it’s surely a felony in action”

“well, it’s their fault for leaving the doors open! plus this is great content. who’s the dirty crime boy now, HM?”

you’d tell wilbur about this and he’d scold tommy and threaten him with the same pen tommy stole

tommy probably would also drag you some weird event happening outside twitchcon along with tubbo and ranboo

“pokimane is giving out free pizza to everyone if we go to this one restaurant down the street!”

“we are literally gonna get bombarded. have you forgot you’re like three of twitch’s top streamers? i’d rather pay for all of our meals than try getting free pizza from pokimane against all her other fans”

“DEAL! let’s go to five guys then!”

you unfortunately end up paying for all 3 of their meals and picking on their food instead of buying your own

even with all of them making way more money than you, they still happen to be cheapskates

OR tommy will end up getting a burrito from a taco truck, immediately making a mess of himself, then proceed to complain how messy the food is to eat despite knowing what he was getting himself into before even ordering

“shit my clothes are all ruined now!”

“well that’s your fault you got a burrito, as if it’s your first time having one”

“i mean the food is good, i’m not complaining about that but i don’t think it’s that good that it’s worth costing my red and white shirt, im just saying”

tubbo

same with tommy, he is so excited

i don’t know why but i imagine him overpacking his suitcase and you making fun of him for it

anyway tubbo has his irl backpack on and streaming EVERYTHING

probably spends a lot of time at a bunch of different booths, checking out all the pointless gadgets he could buy for his stream

you’re the one to stop him from doing so

“TUBBO IT’S LITERALLY OVER TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS, STOP. DONT GET IT.”

“WHY NOT?? IT WILL BE COOL FOR MY STREAM AND I WILL USE IT EVERYDAY”

“okay theoretically speaking, how the hell are you going to even bring it home? which—let me remind you—is across the country for you and not to mention the giant ocean separating america and the uk”

“free ship-pang!!!”

“i hate to break it to you tubbo but there is no way you can get free shipping on a FIVE FOOT PC. it’s nearly as tall as you! what are you even gonna do on it, hack the government???”

the arguments are all lighthearted but eventually you give in and let him splurge over a thousand dollars in different devices he claimed he “needed”

i could honestly see him visiting the beaches in san diego and going for a swim or even renting out a boat to use for a bit :D

also he’d bring benson along with him and taking a bunch of scenic photos with it in them

i have a feeling he’s the type to schedule a spontaneous meet & greet because he was bored & gets in trouble for causing a mob in a certain part of the convention

he’s like “oh god, i did not expect this many of the bois to show up AHAHAH oops”

tubbo would def pull a lilypichu and bring his melodica or ukulele and play themes while following random people/cosplayers

at the end of the day, you’d find his bag just stuffed with crap he either got for free or bought in the convention

“how did you get all that stuff? i was with you all day??? and it’s only the first day of the convention, hello?? it looks like you’ve been collecting as if twitchcon has went on for a week already!”

“HA i have my ways, do not underestimate my powers”

lani would probably tag along for the vacation honestly

like whenever someone comes up to her giving her gifts/asking for pics, you and tubbo would tease her about how famous she is

and i dunno but something about tubbo just gives me this amusement park energy and going to legoland and spending the whole day there since it’s near by and because he can

ranboo

he is like a beacon in a sea of people, that’s it .

i honestly just see him causing as much chaos as the other two

ranboo would probably like take someone’s camera whether if they’re streaming or if it’s for the vlog, hold it up high, and point the camera directly above someone’s face

it did not matter how tall you were and if you had platform shoes on, ranboo was a skyscraper next to you

“HAHAH this is how i see you from this height, this is funny”

then he shows you the vid of the recording of him getting like an aerial view of your face

like you see your nose and all your pores and just overall a bad angle to be captured in

“OH GOD RANBOO DELETE THAT, ITS HORRIFIC”

i dunno why but i feel like he’d jump scare every person that was cosplaying as his minecraft character from behind for some reason

“BOO!”

“ranboo i’m not even remotely dressed as your skin—”

“don’t worry i’m practicing it’s fineee”

“you’re like the height of 2 people combined, i think you will be fine as is. you even intimidated the security at the front”

i feel like if he had his own panel he’d like pull up some undertale song in the middle of it and scare all the people in the crowd

“lore but in real life”

probably would get some matching keepsake with you from artist alley/the booths!

i could imagine like a cute keychain or smth :D

i feel like he’s the type to like randomly volunteer as a participant for those mini events in a booth thinking it would be funny but regrets it the moment he’s on stage

after introductions the presenter is like “okay ranboo, you will be given a random meme prompt above your head you won’t be able to see until after and you will have to make a random face to compliment it!”

and you can just tell by his facial expression he’s just thinking

oh god what have i gotten myself into

what is this game? who came up with this idea?

you’d laugh at him the whole time, even after he’s off the stage and finished with that small fiasco

“that was horrible. never again.”

“AHAHAH IT LOOKED SO AWKWARD YOU DID GREAT”

“I CROSSED MY EYES AND PUFFED MY CHEEKS BECAUSE I COULDNT THINK OF ANY OTHER FACIAL EXPRESSION. THE PROMPT ENDING UP BEING ‘WHEN TWITTER CANCELS YOU FOR USING PLASTIC STRAWS.’ AND WHEN I SAW WHAT IT WAS—LITERALLY WHAT KIND OF GAME–”

“I GOT PICTURES AND EVERYTHING ITS PERFECT AHAHAHAH”

wilbur soot

honestly with wilbur it’s slightly more chill

he already experienced twitchcon before so he’s just glad to see his friends again after so long

insists that you explore the convention yourself rather than sticking with him the whole time but you do anyway!

wilbur would probably have like a mini concert and gets you front row seats with the rest of the group

but that doesn’t mean before it that you’re not helping him set up

“y/n please– my amp is so heavy, i can carry it”

“don’t worry! i’m strong” :D

and musically talented or not, he will probably bring you and the rest of his friends up to stage to just vibe and sing a bunch of random acoustic songs

it’s not like some big concert hall stage,, i imagine more like a casual thing w a slightly higher platform from the ground yk?

after spending a long day at the convention he’d also bring everyone across the city to la jolla or smth !

you’d all probably have dinner there and chill, watching the pretty sunset

“this place is really pretty but oh my god im gonna lose my breath hiking up this stupid hill, please slow down”

and wilbur is like ??? because he’s completely fine with his long legs and everything

“just walk faster”

“no, you walk slower”

AHAHAH and for context traversing through la jolla by walking around the town is a bit hard since it’s basically on a bunch of hills (walking up from the beach to a restaurant actually is actually sm work, trust me ive been there)

wilbur honestly doesn’t spend that much time in the actual convention center, he’s probably sightseeing a bit of san diego with you instead

but i could imagine him staying at the tabletop games area playing dnd or smth

“c’mon y/n, come join!”

“uhh i’m not sure, i’m not the best at roleplay and...”

“it’s fine don’t worry!”

he’d pull you in with him and end up enjoying yourself even if it was your first time

and if you’re of age, you’d be wilbur’s +1 at the twitch partner party and make sure mans doesn’t too drunk

if it’s not too late in the night, you two would chill at the beach after the party

it’s just a nice, calming moment after all the loud music mixed with hundreds of conversations at the party

also something about like taking polaroids pictures with wilbur just seems to go hand in hand for me

i’m not sure why but you will be taking lots of pics with wilbur for sure (not necessarily you both in the photo, but of sceneries as well while you’re together!)

philza

literally a dad on vacation with his children, it doesn’t matter how old you are

need sunscreen? surprisingly has it

want a snack? probably has a small granola bar somewhere in his bag

but same with wilbur, he’s more chill like this isn’t his first time at twitchcon

omg he’d def bring you to the artist alley and just buy a bunch of fanart and stuff tho

“oh wow look phil, someone made a giant poster of the dream smp and shit!”

“holy shit that’s so good what the fuck!”

and he’s like rushing to that artist’s stall to buy a poster or print

idk why but phil seems like the person to know where he’s going all over the convention center

he probably had a copy of the directory map but yk

you just have trouble reading it bc all the signs seem to be misleading to you

nothing really crazy screams out to me of what phil would do at twitchcon besides like go to a few events, spend a bunch of time w his friends, etc

HOWEVER i could see him wasting a lot of his time at the gaming area and testing new games that are currently on the works of being developed

like “woah y/n, this vr game is sick, you should try it out!”

ngl i feel like phil would plan a visit to disneyland for everyone, like he gets the tickets and everything but once you’re at the park it’s free reign, y’all go everywhere with not much of a plan

the minors would try to cheap out phil and pay less than the others even though everyone else fully paid phil back and everything LMAO

ok but if he’s feeling nice, phil will buy everyone cotton candy/pretzels :D

and if you’re not hungry, he’d at least get you a mickey balloon

HE WILL HAVE MATCHING MICKEY EARS WITH MUMZA YES .

ALSO STAYING FOR THE FIREWORKS THOUGH OMG

just in general, best idea phil had for taking everyone to disneyland :D

technoblade

surprisingly techno is really calm despite this being like one of his first conventions

but when he finally settles in and gets comfortable, he’s showing the same energy

if you’re playfully yelling, he will yell back

however there’s still those awkward moments that are unavoidable

idk why but something about him makes me think that if you feel tired and want to go back to your hotel room, he’d go with you just to make sure you get there safe

he probably also needs a break from being around everyone else for a moment too LMAO

i could also see him searching far and wide in the artist alley for fanart of himself AHAHAH

walking around with him in the convention consists of someone yelling “BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD” every 5 minutes but you don’t really mind

something about him makes me think he’ll be forced into playing minecraft twitch rivals along with the rest of sbi or smth

and he’s like “oh god, i’m going to be on stage? and people will see my face while i play minecraft?”

“i’m sure it will be fun!”

“i mean i like being competitive and feeding my ego, but i’m not that desperate.. well”

do i imagine techno getting easily tired of being surrounded by a bunch of people and just going back to his hotel room with phil and watching some anime with him? yes

and will you watch even if you have no idea what’s going on? also yes

i feel like after a while of you guys hanging out in techno’s room, the rest of the gang will just slowly join you guys

like eventually everyone is there; you, techno, phil, wilbur, niki, tommy, tubbo, ranboo, etc

and techno is like “wha– where did you guys come from?” because his room is basically packed

and niki could be like “oh we can go if you want!”

then techno just insists that she’s fine “but who let the child get in?” clearly implying tommy’s presence

“OI!!”

eventually techno gives in with the company and someone gets a bunch of board games to play from the front desk

lots of yelling and laughing for sure

when it becomes late at night, techno is like half conscious, you’re on your phone, wilbur is staring out the window & enjoying the night view, tommy is passed out on the couch from tiredness, tubbo & ranboo is still wide awake quietly talking, and phil & niki are helping clean up the giant mess

eventually everyone brings themselves to go back to their own room except tommy who won’t budge

you give techno a look and he immediately understands what you were thinking

he rushes to the bathroom to fill up two cups with ice cold water and handed one to you

“on three?”

“okay.. one”

“two”

“three!”

then both of you pour the water on the poor child’s face

he jolts awake and saying a string of curses

“what the fuck techno? y/n too?”

“get out” is the only think techno says that before tommy rushes out with his stuff and you leave right after

a/n: i honestly can’t wait until conventions open up again though,, phil and ranboo were talking about vidcon earlier and omg.

also i kinda want to take in tommy requests but i’m not sure??? it would be both cc! and c! x gn!reader for sure tho. i love writing him to bits but who knows, maybe i’ll only stick to my ideas,, or not. send in a tommy x reader request, might do it, might not, but he’s my fav cc if you can’t tell so! :D (i dunno if i will keep it strictly platonic, but unrequited crushes and stuff are fun to write hehe,,)

edit: let’s hope i fixed all the grammar mistakes LMAO we love writing late at night :) /s /hj

[anothermansjeans]

34 from the harry styles prompt list? for some very weird reason im picturing spencer sitting on one of those benches they have in museums that are like right infront of the paintings and reader sits next to him while also staring at it? love you bestie!! <3

THANK YOU FOR GETTING ME OUT OF MY WRITING SLUMP <3

prompt: she sits beside me like a silhouette

prompt list | wc: 813 | pairing: spencer x fem!reader

++

There was a soft pitter patter of rain on the pavement outside as Spencer sat on the bench in the museum, looking ahead at the painted field of flowers.

It was one of those weeks where he needed to relax. Not think about the horrors he’s seen, not think about the people he couldn’t save. He needed normalcy. So, he sat on a bench in a museum that was way too far from his apartment to even consider going on any other day, but again, he wanted to get away from it all.

He wasn’t sure how long he was staring at this one painting, but he wasn’t too concerned about it. It was beautiful, and it made him feel calm— relaxed— the way he wanted to feel. What made him come out of his stupor though, was the presence of someone sitting on the same bench as him, looking at the same painting.

Spencer wasn’t going to look at the person beside him— he swore, he really wasn’t, but when another fifteen minutes had passed and the person was still beside him, he got curious.

Turning his head, he saw a woman— not much younger than he was, and she looked enthralled by the sight in front of her. While she was taking in the painting, he was taking in her. Simply put, she was beautiful. While she was mesmerized by the work of art, he was seemingly mesmerized by her.

His thoughts were suddenly consumed by the woman next to him— her perfume making it as though he could smell the flowers that had been delicately brushed into the canvas before them. She didn’t move, she didn’t talk. She just sat there next to him, eyes cascading down the painting, obviously taking in anything and everything.

She sits beside me like a silhouette…

The lighting he deemed as awful as soon as he entered the room had suddenly seemed a lot better, the lights angled perfectly so that her shadow was all that was present, herself being a piece of art in a room full of colorful composition.

“What do you see?”

Her voice was unexpected, and the look on Spencer’s face when she turned her head to look at him would match that exact word. “Um, w-what?”

The corner of her lips threatened to pull into a smirk as the man in front of her shifted on the bench, unsettled by getting caught staring. “Of the piece. When you look at it, what do you see?”

“Oh,” Spencer had gone quiet, and looked back at the painting while taking in the light blues and pinks in the sky and how the yellow of the flowers popped out, “I see… peace.”

“Peace?”

“I’m not particularly artistically inclined, but instead of dark colors being used in the sky to make the yellow brighter, the artist used lighter, subtle colors… ones that feel more calm, peaceful.”

“For someone who isn’t ‘artistically inclined’ that was a very well-spoken analysis.”

The apples of his cheeks began to redden, and he cleared his throat. “I still happen to read a lot about art. It’s fascinating, truly.”

“If you could say one thing to this artist, what would you say?”

The sudden flip in conversation almost caused Spencer whiplash. “Uh, I’m not s-sure. I think the piece is amazing?” His statement came out as a question, and it caused the mystery woman to lift an eyebrow.

“You don’t sound too sure. Do you not like it?”

He shook his head, biting his bottom lip before looking back at the painted canvas and taking in a deep breath. “No, no, I think it’s incredible. I don’t see peace a lot, especially with uh, my line of work, but I was able to feel it immediately by looking at this piece. It takes a certain kind of painting to do that.”

“That might be one of the best compliments I’ve ever received. Thank you.” Her comment made his head whip back to her, only to see a dainty smile on her face, and her retreating from her place beside him. “It was nice meeting you…”

Her trailed off sentence signaled him to reply, “Spencer.”

“Spencer,” she echoed back, “I hope you enjoy the rest of the exhibit. I promise it’s worth it.”

He had been too stunned to say anything as she walked away, and after a moment to recollect his thoughts, he stood up and walked towards the small plaque, looking down at the words written on the gold plate.

“There’s Peace in Simplicity”

by

Y/N Y/L/N

He stared at the plaque for at least five minutes before turning on his heel and heading out of the museum. Once outside, he opened his phone and waited for the person on the other side to pick up.

“Hey, Penelope. I have a small favor to ask of you…”

[tsumucore]

LUCID DREAMS

✎ … Miya Atsumu

word count: 5.2k

warnings: NSFW, pwp, daddy kink, a lot of degradation, spanking, choking, sexting, overstimulation, masturbation, he kinda spits in your mouth, just rough sex overall

All characters are 18+ !!!!

A/N: this is my first nsfw fic, so pls bear with me 🥺  I’m also dedicating this to @starboybokuto and @strawbericream for inspiring me and also bc they’re literally smut icons in the fandom and after writing this, I’m realizing just how hard it it to do and I just wanna appreciate them for all the effort they put in <3

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

His moans were like honey, pouring from his sweet lips and into your ears, as his thrusts became erratic. He was close. The sounds of your own pleasure filled the room before he swallowed them up completely with his beautiful mouth. You were close. This space that was inhabited by you two was the only dimension where time didn’t exist. Nothing else mattered in this moment, except for each other. You were so, so, so, so, so clo-

“Wake up!”

Your roommate’s exclamation breaks you out of your lust-filled slumber with a jolt. You groan and silently curse her as details of the dream gradually come back to you; she’d have to make a run for it if she valued her life, or at least avoiding getting smacked in the face by the pillow you throw at her with impressive force.

“Y/N, what did I do? she whines. “You told me to wake you up. I only did what you said!”

“Literally fuck you, I was having a good dream,” you fire back.

“MAN if you don’t… anyway shouldn’t you be in class by now?” Your eyes widen as you fumble for your phone to check the time.

“Shit!” Usually, you wouldn’t have bothered showing up if you were running late, but this class took attendance, and you were already on the cusp between two letter grades. A menial attendance point could be the difference between maintaining your GPA or tarnishing it.

You wash up in record time, throw on some clothes, and shove your necessary belongings in your backpack before slinging it on your back. You don’t even have time to fill up your water bottle; you’d just have to purchase one on campus later. You pop in your earbuds, select a random playlist, and fly out the door.

You don’t stop until you reach the lecture hall. You try not to cringe as you push open the door, slinking your way in the back to find an open seat; luckily, there was one near the door so your humiliation was short-lived. When you finally sit down and situate yourself, you take a deep breath for the first time that morning and collect your thoughts.

As your mind wanders, memories of your erotic dream come back to you. The faintest of color tints your cheeks, and you shift slightly in your seat as you subtly cross your legs. You pull out your phone, preparing to fire a text at lightning speed. You need your boyfriend.

Y/N: i miss you

Atsumu: :))

Y/N: im not trying to gas ur big head up even more than it already is i’m just whore knee

Atsumu: OH????? aren’t you in class rn?

Y/N: i’d rather be choking on your fat cock tbh

Atsumu: naughty girl, why are you saying such things in the middle of class?

Y/N: what are you gonna do about it... choke me? spank me? make me cum over and over and over again?

Atsumu: Watch your mouth, baby...

Y/N: Ok...

Y/N: ...daddy.

Fighting the smile tugging at your lips, you set your phone on ‘do not disturb’ and refocus your attention on the professor’s droning voice. By the time lecture was over, you scramble out of the building, eager to make a quick call to your boyfriend so you could describe to him in specific detail everything you wanted him to do to you.

Alas, you heard the voices of your friends calling out to you, so you’re forced to sit through idle chit-chat until your next class starts. Of course, today was also a full day, so you would have to endure the rest of your classes, your position as a TA, and the study session your classmates were pulling together at the library for your next exam - which just so happened to be in two days, meaning you couldn’t opt out. At this rate, you wouldn’t be leaving campus until dark. And it was only 10 in the morning.

While you daydream in your next class, you’re broken out of your reverie by the realization that you had neglected to check your phone after effectively ending the conversation with Atsumu the way that you had. You unlock your phone, seeing that you have just one unread message from him - a photo. 

You know what’s coming before you even open it, so you’re careful to ensure that your screen isn’t in anyone’s line of sight - luckily, you were sitting in the back again, so there aren’t any prying eyes over your shoulder. You turn down the brightness and open the conversation before practically salivating on the spot.

You have an idea of what exactly the photo was going to be of, but nothing could prepare you for the effect it had on you.

It’s evident that he had propped up his phone on something and taken the photo on self-timer. Bleached tufts of hair fell over his forehead as he winked back at you through the screen with his lips pursed as if he was going to kiss someone. The only thing he wore was a gold chain around his neck. He was flashing a peace sign with one hand, while the other was wrapped around a good sized erection.

You feel your mouth dry up and your thighs subconsciously squeeze together. The way this photo was triggering a physiological reaction from your body was astounding. You need this man, and you need him now. You whisper to your friend that you had to use the bathroom, that you might be gone for a while - it must have been the iced coffee going straight through you - and to let you know if you missed anything. You try not to trip over anyone’s legs in your haste to get to the restroom.

Since this was a fairly large building, there were multiple restrooms, and so you locate the one you know is always empty and secluded - the one below the main floor. Once you enter, you do a quick check in each stall to make sure you’re alone before locking the door. You go into the biggest stall and commence with your plan of action.

You take off your shirt and bra and neatly hang them on the hooks behind the stall door. The sudden exposure to the chilly air makes you shiver as your nipples harden in response. You then bring your phone up to your chest, so that your face isn't in frame and begin to record yourself lightly massaging your breasts. You make sure to softly moan Atsumu’s name when you pinch your nipple, rolling it between your thumb and index finger. After about thirty seconds, you promptly send the footage to your boyfriend.

He immediately starts facetiming you which causes your thighs to squeeze together expectantly. When you answer the call, you’re greeted with dark, lustful eyes and a shit-eating grin.

“I heard someone missed me today.” His tone is slightly mocking, indicative of something deeper underneath.

“I had a dream about you,” you inform him as you slowly begin to massage your breasts the way you had before.

“Yeah? What happened in your dream?” His eyes darken as he shrewdly observes the way you sigh as your fingers glide over your nipples. God, he wished he could just take them in between his teeth.

You bite your lip in response to his tone becoming increasingly huskier. “I dreamed about you… fucking me.” Your voice falters a bit as you suddenly feel a wave of shyness rush over you. Atsumu often had this effect on you - sure, there was no limit to the amount of things you had done together; however, he was still able to make you feel flustered, as if it was the first time all over again.

“How naughty,” he scoffs. “You love actin’ so innocent, but what would people say if they really knew what was goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours? What would they say if they saw what you were tellin’ me in the middle of class? Do ya know what they would say, dollface?”

You can’t bring yourself to respond, only managing a feeble shaking of your head.

“They would call you a whore. A filthy, depraved slut. And do ya know what sluts get?”

Again, another feeble shake.

“Nothing. Sluts get nothing,” he laughs mockingly as he angles his phone until you have an adequate view of the way he’s been stroking himself this entire time. “And now, dollface, you’re gonna have to watch me get myself off. I want your hands off of yourself entirely... If I catch you touchin’ yourself even once, you get nothing. But if you’re good, I might just play with ya later.”

You whimper at his order, but you have no choice; you had brought this upon yourself by getting him riled up with those texts in the first place. As you swallow thickly, he begins to jerk himself off - slowly at first, torturing you with each stroke as he looks directly through the camera and into your eyes. He then begins to pick up the pace as heavy pants and the occasional moan escapes from his mouth.

“See what ya did to me, baby? This is all because of you.” His breathing grows erratic as he edges closer and closer to his release. “And now look at you. Watchin’ a man jerk off in a public restroom, with your tits out, when you’re supposed to be in class like a good girl. Now tell me, does that sound like a good girl?”

You merely whimper in response.

“Answer me,” he practically growls. “Does. That. Sound. Like. A. Good. Girl.”

“No,” you whisper as you feel a surge of arousal rush to your core. You knew your panties would be suffering thoroughly by the time you returned to class.

“Then tell me, dollface. What. Are. You.” Each enunciation is emphasized with a hard stroke to his cock - the same way he would be thrusting into you. It takes absolutely everything in you not to sneak your hand down to your throbbing clit; he’d know if you did, he always did. The prospect of not being touched by him later was unthinkable, so you continue to helplessly watch him fuck his own hand.

“I’m a filthy whore, your filthy whore,” you whine in compliance as you watch him thrust into his hand a few more times before letting out a long, drawn out moan and spilling his release all over himself. You can’t help the moan that escapes your own lips as you take in the sight of his flushed face and heavy rising and falling of his chest.

“You actually listened to me for once? This is a surprise,” he chuckles once he recovers from his orgasm. “Hurry up and come over… I’ll fuck ya ‘til you can’t even remember your own name.”

•.｡.༺✩༻.｡.•

For the rest of the day, you hoped you were doing a relatively adequate job of hiding your arousal as you went about your responsibilities. You were literally counting down the seconds until you were finished with everything so you could meet up with Atsumu and let him fuck you like he promised. At one point, you caught yourself almost drooling during your group study session at the library. You took this as your cue to leave, so you politely excused yourself by letting the others know that it was time for you to leave as you had to get up early the next morning.

After what felt like the longest and, thanks to Atsumu, the most torturous day ever, you felt completely ravenous. From the second you had woken up, you had been straight up horny, and the fact that you hadn't been able to take care of it was driving you insane. You had been rushed all day, never having a moment to yourself, and when you did, Atsumu had specifically instructed you not to satisfy yourself the way you needed to be satisfied. It was unfair.

To make matters worse, you missed the train that would take you to Atsumu’s apartment as he lived quite a while away from your campus. The next train would be leaving in an hour, which was just too much for you at this point. Delay after delay. You grit your teeth in frustration as you weigh your options: you could wait another painstaking hour for the train that would inevitably take you to your dick appointment or you could spend a fortune by calling for a taxi and getting there right now. While you mentally calculate your finances, your clit throbs just slightly when you cross your legs, which causes you to throw all thoughts of being a penniless college student out the window in favor of getting fucked mercilessly as soon as possible.

•.｡.༺✩༻.｡.•

Of course the elevator in Atsumu’s apartment building was currently out of order at that moment, leaving you with no other choice but to climb the seven flights of stairs to his apartment. At this point, you feel like you’re running on some sort of primal instinct as you sprint up the stairs with the vigor possessed by only someone who’s about to be dicked down. By the time you reach his door, you’re already huffing and puffing, but your own exhaustion escapes your mind as you ring his doorbell impatiently. Once the door swings open, you’re greeted with the sight of your boyfriend smirking back at you.

The motherfucker wore nothing but loose gray sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips and the same gold chain around his neck from earlier. You chuck your backpack on the floor and throw yourself onto him, pressing your lips against his (minty?) ones. The kiss is sloppy and intense as you try to make him feel the desperation you had been forced to endure all day long. 

Somehow, your clothes find themselves on the ground in a matter of seconds. He lightly slaps at your thigh, a signal for you to jump into his arms. When you do, your hands immediately find themselves tangled in his hair, and you tug at the roots lightly, earning a growl from him. You gasp and moan into his mouth when you feel his hands give your ass a good squeeze. He manages to carry you like this into his bedroom before gently dropping you onto his bed, where he palms himself above you as he gazes at your nude form. On god, you can literally see his dick print through his sweats, and it only fuels the wetness forming between your thighs.

“Atsumu, I’ve been waiting all fucking day long. Stop being an asshole and fuck me already like you promised,” you whine as you reach your hands up to rub them along his abdomen, relishing in the feeling of his abs beneath your fingertips. You were hoping that this would coax him into giving you what you want, but he merely ceases his actions and raises an eyebrow at you.

“Who do you think you are, talkin’ to me like that?” His eyes narrow, and he leans down so that he’s hovering directly above you. “Is my baby so goddamn horny that she actually forgot her manners?” His hand comes up to wrap around your throat, gradually squeezing it harder as he glares at you. “Looks like I’ll have to remind ya how to properly speak to me. Turn over - I want that ass up in the air.” 

You pout as you obey his command and flip over on your knees so that your face is shoved into the pillow and your ass is sticking straight up for him, bracing yourself for what you know is about to come.

“You know the drill, since you wanna be such a goddamn slut - count for daddy.” Before you can respond, his hand collides with your left asscheek, causing you to yelp and moan, “One,” weakly into the pillow. The sting doesn’t last for very long, but you know better - by tomorrow, you won’t be able to sit properly.

He continues delivering powerful slaps to your ass and admires the way it jiggles with every smack and the redness blooming across the soft flesh. Every so often, he plunges two fingers into your now sopping heat, without warning. He removes them as quickly as he puts them in, causing you to whine in frustration. By the time you reach ten spanks, you’re babbling incoherently as you wiggle your hips in the air, clenching around nothing and desperate for anything to fill you up.

He flips you back over on your back and scoffs at your desperation. “Have you learned your lesson, whore?” It’s not a question - it’s a demand.

As much as you want to do or say whatever he wants so that he can fuck you already, it’s always more fun to see what happens when you piss him off. You jut out your lower lip in a pout and stare up at him defiantly. “No.”

Before you know it, you’re being flipped back onto your stomach. Another round of brutal spankings are delivered to your asscheeks, causing tears to prick your eyes as the burning pain sets in. You’re going to be sore for the next week.

“Leave it to a whore to be so mouthy,” he growls as he flips you over on your back again and thrusts two fingers into your cunt. “But you like this, don’t ya? You like pissin’ me off, because you like getting your pretty little ass spanked and you like being choked, whether it’s by my hand or on my cock. I should shut you up with my cock, since you wanna be so mouthy. Tell me, do ya like choking on cock, whore?”

“Yes, daddy,” you moan quite loudly. The combination of his degrading words and consistent thrusting of his fingers in and out of your pussy was sending you into a haze.

“Of course you fucking do,” he spits. “You told me so yourself when you were sitting all innocent in class. In fact, what else did ya tell me?” His thumb was now brushing vigorously against your clit during each thrust, causing your legs to shake violently. The whimpers falling from your lips grow louder as you focus on the buildup slowly forming in the pit of your stomach. However, your lack of response doesn’t impress him. He immediately pulls his fingers out and slaps your pussy, eliciting a jerk from your entire body and a drawn-out moan from the surprising sensation.

“Answer me, fuckdoll. Or you get nothing.” He literally shoves his fingers back in and continues his relentless thrusting, filling the room with the squelching sounds of your sloppy cunt. You scramble to remember the contents of the lewd texts you had sent him earlier that day, but your brain is so hazy from the orgasm you know is about to hit you, that you’re stumbling through your words.

“I-I said something about w-wanting to choke on your cock-” your sentence is cut off with a long moan as he applies direct pressure on your clit with his thumb.

“We established that already, dollface,” he scoffs. “What. Else.”

“I d-don’t remember,” you wail and thrash your head side to side against the pillow. Your release is so close, you can taste it. “Daddy, please let me cum - I’m going to cum!”

“Don’t remember? That’s a shame,” he remarks as he completely stops his actions and pulls his fingers out, yet again. You let out a scream of frustration at the fact that your orgasm was just cruelly ripped away from you. “Let’s see, maybe we need a refresher.” To your disbelief, he pulls out his phone and scrolls to the conversation from that morning. “Hmm, you told me to choke and spank you… Well, I’ve already done both of those, so what else?” His eyes narrow down at your quivering form and, to your relief, he puts his fingers back in you and continues thrusting. What was the last thing you told me, whore?”

“I-I told you to m-make me cum over and over a-again,” you gasp out as one final sharp thrust sends you completely over the edge. Before you know it, you’re screaming his name as you crash down from your high.

You moan in bliss as you feel the utter fucking release of the tension that had been building up inside you all day long. However, you barely have time to relax before you realize Atsumu’s still going at it in your now sensitive pussy.

“Tsumu,” you gasp as you feel your body jerking in response to the oversensitivity. “It’s s-so much… I-I c-can’t-”

The motherfucker literally laughs as he watches your face contort from the sheer overwhelming pleasure. “What? You asked for it. You’re droolin’ already and all I’ve given you are my fingers.” His jeering words ignite the fire building up for the second time as tears stream down your face from the overstimulation. “You tellin’ me you want me to stop?” He stuffs a third finger inside, stretching you even further and eliciting even more delicious cries from your lips. It felt like his fingers were thrusting even harder and faster, if that was possible.

“N-no, keep g-going,” you wail before you’re hit with your second orgasm of the night. All that you’re able to get out is a blubbering combination of “daddy” and “Tsumu” as your vision goes white and you hear the roaring of your own blood in your ears.

Atsumu finally slides his fingers out of your drenched pussy, eyes fixating on the string from your fluids attached to them. He takes advantage of your still panting mouth to stuff his fingers in between your lips. “You know what to do.” His eyes darken as he watches you desperately suck on his fingers, tasting your own essence on them. After he feels that you’ve effectively done a thorough job of cleaning them off for him, he smirks and pulls them out before leaning down so that he’s hovering above you.

“Good girl. Open wide for your reward.” Once you comply, he works up a good amount of saliva and lets it fall in your mouth, directly on your tongue. You moan as you relish the taste of his spit and swallow it all. “Thank you daddy,” you beam up at him.

He draws himself back in satisfaction as he pulls his sweatpants off, freeing his rock hard length and letting it slap against his abdomen. As spent as you are from your previous orgasms, there’s nothing you’re craving more than for him to be balls deep in your tight pussy. He just remains where he is, stroking himself as he watches you grow impatient for him to do something already.

 “Tsumu,” you plead in the calmest tone you can muster. “Please fuck me already.”

He merely continues to pump his cock, much to your dismay. “How much do you want my big cock, whore?” Again, it isn’t a question.

“I want it more than anything in the whole wide world,” you beg. Each stroke to his cock only serves to increase your frustration.

“Prove it.”

You let out a groan and proceed to rub your tits, squeezing them together and rolling your nipples in between your fingers. In your attempt to please him, you notice the way Atsumu slightly picks up the pace of his strokes as he watches you play with your tits.

But it still isn’t enough for him.

“You can do better than that.”

Fucking hell. You let go of your breasts and spread your legs, hooking your hands behind your knees so that he has a perfect view of your pretty, spoiled pussy. Your cheeks burn as you bring your hand down to spread your lips, offering him access to your slick hole. “C’mon, Tsumuuuuu… I’m all good and ready for you.”

Atsumu swallows thickly and finally relents. He grabs your thighs and holds them open as he positions himself at your entrance and pushes into you. You’re so wet from your previous orgasms that he slides in easily, burying himself to the brim as he loses himself in the feeling of being fully sheathed inside you and lets out a long moan. It feels like your pussy is literally swallowing him up as he bottoms out. Your eyes roll back as you feel yourself being deliciously, oh so wonderfully, stretched. His fingers were heavenly on their own, but nothing in the world could compare to the feeling of his thick cock hitting all the right spots in you.

“Fuck, yeahhh. You’re so tight, fuck. How are ya so tight?” Atsumu’s breathing is heavy as he squeezes his eyes shut, relishing the sensation of your walls clenching around him. He starts thrusting slowly, checking your face for any signs of discomfort. However, you grow impatient and start wiggling your hips, urging him to go faster. He scoffs and slaps your breast in response. “Be patient, dollface. You’ll take what I give ya.” You whimper, but cease your actions. Atsumu must have apparently decided that was enough for him as well, because he picks up his speed. 

His hips slap against you from the brutal way he fucks you into oblivion. His strokes are deep and hard, causing you to turn into a sobbing mess. The room is filled with the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass and your cries begging him to not stop and go even harder. The way he pounds into you has your entire body rocking back and forth as you moan at the feeling of his pelvis meeting you with each movement. 

“M-more, daddy!” Drool is seeping out of the corners of your open mouth and your eyes are glazed over from the sheer feeling of him being balls deep in you.

“You love being fucked like this, don’t ya?” Atsumu’s grunts fill your ears and you clench even tighter at his words. “An’ it’s never enough for you. Insatiable whore.” He delivers a particularly sharp thrust at the word “whore” which makes you blubber nonsensically. You want to tell him that you’re his insatiable whore, but your words are jumbling together as all your senses are devoted to the way his cock is slamming in and out of your cunt.

At this rate, you’re about to cum again in no time. Atsumu picks up on this and makes you wrap your legs around him so he can pound into you even deeper from this new angle. The tip of his dick now hits your g spot with each brutal thrust, making you literally scream in delirium. He’s more than pleased at your response, which is why he suddenly halts his movements and tilts his head at you in the cockiest manner. You want to scream and swear at him in every language possible, but you’re in such disbelief that all you can muster is the dirtiest glare at him. He laughs at the way your hips involuntarily move around him.

“Look at ya, you’re so fuckin’ cockhungry. I’m not even doing anything and your pussy’s tryna suck me in.” Before you can protest, he suddenly pulls out so that just the tip of his dick is inside you and slams back in with no warning. He’s back to thrusting into you, hitting your g spot with immense force. 

Before you know it, the knot that had been forming in your stomach completely snaps. His eyes train on the way your tongue lolls out of your mouth and your eyes cross together as your mind goes completely blank when you cum yet again. Your pussy clenches around him, causing him to swear profusely, and your fluids gush out involuntarily. Your cheeks are flushed and your chest is covered in the sheen from your sweat. He lets go of your thighs and leans over to meet your lips with his, never stopping the steady rhythm of his thrusts. You pant into his mouth as the sound of your heartbeat pounds in your ears and the cool metal of his chain dangles against your skin. 

“C’mon, make that face again for me.” Atsumu begins to rub your clit harshly, eliciting a high-pitched mewl from you as your entire body shudders.

“I-I-I…” Your teeth are clenched and your eyes are squeezed shut as pressure fills your head from the overwhelming sensation spreading throughout your body. It’s all too much, and you’re not sure you can cum again.

“Give it to me one more time, pretty girl. I know you can do it, I gotcha.” Atsumu starts sucking on the sweet spot behind your ear and continues to fuck you with the vigor of a possessed man. The bedframe shakes uncontrollably from the way he pummels into you. His thumb rubbing furiously at your clit sends shock waves of pleasure throughout your overly sensitive body and before you know it, the familiar pressure is building up in your stomach again. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my go-,” you chant as your eyes roll back in your head and you scream out his name while your vision goes completely white. Atsumu groans at the feeling of your tight walls milking his cock for everything he has. Your whole body is shaking, and you’re so wracked with pleasure that you can scarcely process the way his thrusts grow sloppy as he gets closer and closer to his own release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His groans fill the room as he erratically pummels into you to chase his high. 

“Cum inside me, daddy. Want you to fill me all the way up.” Your words are slurring together at this point due to the heady arousal clouding your mind, but they’re enough to tip Atsumu over the edge. He lets out a moan and his hips stutter to a stop as you’re overcome with the feeling of his cock twitching inside you and suddenly filling you to the brim with his cum.

Atsumu collapses on top of you and pants heavily in an attempt to catch his breath. The two of you are silent for a good few minutes before he gathers whatever strength is left in him to pull out of you. He remains somewhat on top of your utterly spent body and peppers kisses all over your face. “You good?”

“Never better,” you reach a hand up to stroke his hair, and he hums contentedly in response before rolling over to your side. He throws an arm over you, hugging you to his body and just stares at you lovingly.

“I wasn’t too rough on ya, was I?” His hand reaches down to your ass to rub soothingly at the marks left by him.  

“You were perfect, babe.” You grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his own. “I’m sleeping good tonight, thanks to you.” He smiles at this and positions himself so that his head is tucked in the crook of your neck. He closes his eyes for a while as he savors the feeling of you stroking his hair and planting kisses on the top of his head.

“Babe?”

“Hm?”

“Ya wanna order food?” His eyes are still shut and you chuckle. “Yeah.”

“Who’s callin’?” He snuggles a bit further into you.

“Not it.” His eyes open and he looks up at you before literally pouting. You can’t believe this is the same man you were calling “daddy” just a few minutes ago.

“Why do I hafta do it,” he grumbles.

“Sorry that my phone’s out there and yours is literally at your feet because you wanted to be theatrical and ‘teach me a lesson.’” You smile as he continues to grumble under his breath, but pushes himself up to grab his phone and dial the number of your favorite takeout place. “Love youuuuuu,” you sing-song and flash a toothy grin at him.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I love ya too.” He rolls his eyes and lies back down next to you as he speaks to the worker on the phone. The entire time he absentmindedly plays with your hands as you sigh contentedly and bask in the feeling of being with him.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

masterlist ｡･:*:･ﾟ rules

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 01

(Masterpost) (Next Episode)

Warning: This is **FULL **of spoilers, not just for this episode but for the entire series. If you haven’t finished all 50 episodes, please don’t read it! 

Intro: 2020 continues to be much much too much while also being incredibly boring, and Im done with Shen Wei’s Lewks, so now I’m doing a deep meta dive into the Untamed. Let’s roll! 

Prologue: The Battle of Mordor

The Demise of our Protagonist

Unlike some other shows I won’t name, The Untamed kills its suicidal queer protagonist immediately, rather than waiting four seasons, so we know what we're in for. 

This is Wei Wuxian, who is about to yeet himself off of a cliff. He is having a bad day. 

Note: if mouth blood bothers you...C-Drama might not be your thing. 

Reasons for mouth blood: a sampler

Anyway...cliff time

Note: if (fictional) suicide bothers you...C-Drama might not be your thing. 

To be fair there are hardly any suicides in The Untamed. No more than ...five? As long as you don’t count the entire population of the Wen Corporate Headquarters in Yiling or those wall bandits in Qinghe or Madame Yu or all those Wens who supposedly threw themselves into the mud puddle or that Mo guy who broke his own neck. Plus watching Wei Wuxian’s cliff drop several more times from multiple angles. So, you know. Hardly Any Suicides. 

This is Lan Wangji, who is about to have his first losing encounter with physics. He is having a bad day.

In fact, if it is possible to have a worse day than the guy who is currently falling to his death, Lan Wangji is having that.

This is Jiang Cheng, who is feeling extra stabby from this camera angle. He is having a bad day.

Camera operator: why you gotta take it out on me? 

(Much, much more after the cut!)

The Amulet Situation

This is the Stygian Tiger Amulet. Yes, by all means, (Netflix) subtitles, let's use a 12-dollar word, “Stygian,” that every English speaker who is not a Shelley/Byron shipper will have to look up. Let’s not use a normal word like "deathly" or "corrupt" or you know... "Yin" which is clearly what they are saying on screen.

Why does this tiger amulet look like a chameleon crossed with a remora? Wei Wuxian can paint photorealistic bunnies on a flimsy lantern while sitting in a field having distracting teenage lust, but two months of meditating with super magic gets him a tiger that looks like a chameleon. And don’t try telling me this is a traditional-Chinese-art vibe because this jade tiger from frickin 1000 BCE is way more tigerish than Wei Wuxian’s attempt. 

Try harder next time, Wei Wuxian.

This is thousands of cultivators having a battle.  What do you mean, it looks like about 40-60 dudes?

 Any time someone in The Untamed refers to a number of people, it is like when you do your high school play and look off into the wings at nothing and say “Hark, A Ship Approaches!” and everyone’s parents nod indulgently.

Jin Clan Mountain Hunt:

*viewership nods indulgently*

This is Captain Blowhard, over on the right, courtesy name Clan Leader Yao. His job is to talk smack about Wei Wuxian and stick up for whoever is the biggest asshole in any given scene.  

He represents mainstream cultivation-world values so here he is shanking one of his allies to take the deadly amulet of evilness.

The Present Day

Spilling All That Yiling Laozu Tea

Down at the Exposition Tea Shop, the Lan juniors are chilling and listening to Tea Dude tell the story of Yiling Laozu. 

How did they get permission to take this field trip? “Principal Qiran, we want to go downtown to hang out with the local rabble and learn about your favorite person, Wei Wuxian.”

Waiting in the wings is the man with a fan and a plan, Nie Huaisan(g), who is paying tall loot to get these stories told.  

...Why? Is Mo Xuanyu having tea here and listening? Or is Wei Wuxian being summoned back by hearing all this smack being talked about him? *Shrug.*

Gank Your Soul

Drunk flag guy out here talking about spirits. Wikipedia tells me that In one school of Daoist thought, a human being has a collection of physical souls (魄 pò) and ethereal souls (魂 hún). Drunk flag guy is saying “hún ” at the moment. 

The many types of souls don’t translate well into English, where spiritual vocabulary has always been shackled connected to Christian beliefs, and is too limited for this context. So when the subtitles have conversations like “Is it a soul eater? No, no, it’s a spirit taker!” just roll with it. (Speaking of hún, if you have any interest in linguistics, do yourself a favor and go read all the wonderful meta @hunxi-guilai​)

The spirit-carrying flag looks a lot like Raava and Vaatu from Korra which...probably doesn’t mean anything.

The Demise of our Trill Host

Suicide #2 happens about 8 minutes in. 

Mo Xuanyu is that hippie roommate with the annoying wind chimes and bead curtains and blood spatter.

He is super mad at his terrible family and also at Jin Guangyao, who sent him home to his terrible family. I wonder if Fan Man Nie Huaisang influenced Jiggy’s decision-making there. Mo Xuanyu’s choice to die for revenge might be excessive, given how easy it actually is to murder the Mo family.

Being Alive Is Fine I Guess As Long As I Get To Fuck WIth People

Wei Wuxian starts his new life by splashing a little water on his face, which instantly makes his hair go from this

to this. 

He looks at his reflection and wishes he was dead, which--mood--but he gets over it as soon as he finds someone whose day he can fuck up.

And he is ALL in on being crazy. 

OP wishes she had the Wei Wuxian kind of crazy instead of the kind she actually has. 

Meanwhile, this is the sane Mo cousin:

This asshole is wearing one of the best fabrics in the whole show, incidentally. Asshole.

My favorite bit of Wei-Mo craziness is when Wei Wuxian does a meaningless 360 all the way around this dude before ducking in the opposite direction, which is like when I make 4 right turns around a whole block to avoid making a single left across traffic.

Perhaps I Do Miss One Thing In This Life

Wei Wuxian has pining thoughts about Lan Wangji, so he plays WangXian on a fucking blade of grass well enough for Sizhui to recognize it from his dad's guqin jams. 

Wei Wuxian is a better flautist than even Inspector Gadget BeatBoxing Flute Guy (Google it).

Our Many Many Spirit Lure Flags have Lured A Spirit, Oh Shit

Lan Clan has a Plan and Wei Wuxian is a Fan

Having one single lure flag stuck in Wen Ning’s torso caused spirits to basically eat him alive, so to catch one evil spirit, 6 disciples holding flags on the roof plus 8 more flags on the ground seems like a good amount. Wei Wuxian is like “yep, a single one of these will lure every spirit for five miles, carry on, younglings.”

Baxia Does the Heavy Lifting

Wei Wuxian is supposed to kill four people because of this curse situation, and in the course of the series they all die, and he kills exactly zero of them. The curse on Wei Wuxian’s arm should be called the scorekeeper curse. 

Baxia’s spirit pinballs around the Mo clan, rapidly killing three people on Mo Xuanyu’s list plus a couple extras for good measure.  Who's a good blade? Baxia is! Yess you are! Yes you are!

This here is the exact point in the show where your friend, who has listened to you squee about The Untamed for three months and finally agreed to watch it with you, will say “what the fuck am I watching?” and try to get up off the couch. Tackle them! 

This also the point where we all realize that the prosthetic and practical effects in this show were probably not made by the people who made the clothing, because the quality is...variable. The white eyeballs are pretty good, but the glove of death is ridiculous.

Camera operator: why you gotta take it out on me?

While Baxia goes to town on the Mo clan, the Lan Clan babies...watch? And tie up the various victims after they are already goners. 

Narrator: Her son is dead.

Meanwhile, 

Wei Wuxian, you motherfucker. You’ve been alive for like 7 hours and you’re already building a new zombie army. No wonder you don’t want them to call Lan Wangji.

Hanguang-Jun Cut It Up One Time

Lan Wangji shows up and very slowly kicks zombie ass with his guqin. If you are used to Hong Kong action speeds, you will find The Untamed very peaceful.

 All of the baby Lans fan squee up at Lan Wangji like he's the cultivation world's David Bowie and...they're not wrong. Jesus Fuck, he’s charismatic.

Lan Wangji is soft boi when he discovers this murderous sword full of dead-bastard energy, because it reminds him of his true love.

Like the talk about souls, the conversations about the nature of the murderous entity really don’t survive translation into English.

Servant: it’s a ghost! 

WWX: it’s not a ghost, it’s a spirit

Babies: It’s a spirit

LWJ: it’s not a spirit, it’s a [...] ghost

Our Protagonist gets the FOH

Wei Wuxian is soft boi when he sees Lan Wangji, but not so soft that he considers actually, like, sticking around. 

Wei Wuxian is also clueless boi, noting Lan Wangji’s white clothing and thinking, as in the past, that he looks like he’s dressed in mourning. The term he uses is 戴孝, which google tells me means the type of outfit worn by Jiang Yanli after Wen Ning rips her husband’s heart out someone who is in mourning. 

Actually, Wei Wuxian, you dumbass, he is in actual mourning, actually, for you. Dumbass. He probably packed away all of his blue outer robes 16 years ago and only takes them out occasionally to reminisce about that nice date you had on your mountain of corpses. 

On his way out the door Wei Wuxian manages to find a red ribbon for his beautiful hair, so things are looking up. 

Where to go next...hey I know, how about that one haunted mountain with the killer statue, you know, the one that all my executed friends and child came from? That’ll be fun and a great way to put the past behind me!

Episode 02 Restless Rewatch is here!

[xpeachesncream]

Can i Request a Drabble where Aiko keeps sending taehyung Nudes and the reader gets insecure about her appearance bc of it? She compares herself to Aiko and it makes taehyung upset :/ im not too good with requests sorry if this isn’t clear

perfectly wrong | drabble [11]: it’s the way that she sits pretty with that perfect hourglass shape of hers in her nudes.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: cussing, implied sexual content, jealousy, insecurities about image/looks

Okay, let's be real. Men love nudes. They all have needs, and they all love marveling at a naked body, especially when it comes unexpectedly. It could be a good, or bad thing. Whatever it is, they love that shit either way. I'm calling a man's bluff if he ever says he didn't enjoy looking at someone's nudes.

Taehyung isn't exempt. It was honestly the biggest highlight when he went on his fuckboy spree. Just the feeling of being wanted so badly that girls would send you nudes to grab your attention. Biggest ego booster.

Before anyone gets on his ass, he loves his woman and he quickly taps out of the snapchat so he doesn't see it for long. It's been Aiko's 5th nude so far, and he's already knowing what to expect when the notification hits his screen. He knows this shit.

You were there the first time she sent him a nude over snapchat. You both looked at it, confused that it had been sent to the wrong person since she hadn't sent him anything in between that movie selfie and this. It became a running joke for awhile, but it eventually died the less you saw or heard of it. You just actually didn't know she was still sending him nudes.

So, when you see her snapchat notification pop up on his screen again, you're a little taken aback.

"Aiko's still sending you snaps?" You ask as you hug Taehyung tightly while you both are cuddling on Jimin's couch, watching another yet unsatisfying episode of Unsolved Mysteries. You all had just finished watching The Hate U Give, Jimin throwing the channel on something random afterwards. He sat on the other portion of his couch, hugging a pillow tightly against his chest as he cussed to himself and mumbled questions about how people could stand this show if barely any of the episodes were actually solved.

You get the frustration, right? You just wanna know if they ever caught the killer, or if they found new clues, but most of the episodes end so abruptly with that 'if you happen to have any info regarding this case' message with the number to call.

"Yeah, it's whatever though." Taehyung says, keeping his eyes on the tv while you fiddled with his phone.

"Woah!" You say as you pressed on her snap, revealing her nude and on her bed, fingers trailing down to her lady friend. You tilted your head as you watched her begin to rub her clit ever so softly. The thing that gets you though is her body, and how she sat there, looking like a perfect hourglass. "Interesting." Taehyung looks at his phone and does a double take.

"Oh shit." He nonchalantly says as he also tilts his head confusingly while looking at the snap, causing you to shake your head and hit his chest as you tap out if it. The second thing that catches your eye is how many times her name comes up in his history.

"She's been sending you snaps?"

"Yeah, but I don't pay much attention to it." He caresses your arm as you slightly tilt your head up to look at him.

"Have they all been nudes?"

"Yes, but I told you I don't pay much attention to it, baby." You were unsatisfied with his answer, only because you just got a glimpse of what she sent tonight. You have no idea what the others looked like, but you were thinking it was just as this one was - the perfect position in her hourglass shape.

"Okay." Is all you say. You suddenly felt insecure as fuck, knowing your man had seen those snaps of her. She honestly looked like a fucking goddess and it kills you. He used to fuck her, for god's sake! Aka he used to have the hots for her to some extent?! He considered it once, and it makes you feel a little queazy knowing he could again.

"What happened?" Jimin asks from his side of the couch.

"Aiko sent Taehyung a nude." You flatly respond.

"Seen it, she's sent me the same ones." You roll your eyes because for Jimin, it's whatever. For your man though, please. Don't come up in his inbox with that mess. What the fuck was she trying to do here, show the world her coochie? She was feeling herself that much?

Shit, honestly. Single and with that body, you would be too. Fuck, that's annoying.

"Baby, it's nothing, okay?" He gently tickles your chin.

"Kaaaaay, I heard you." You say as bothered as possible. For the remaining time at Jimin's, you're quiet. Your mood has plunged. You just wanted to sulk in your bed. Taehyung takes notice, but he was going to wait until you two were alone to bring it up.

Which is now, in the car, in your guest parking spot.

"Okay, what's going on in my pretty lady's head?" He shuts off the car and sinks into the driver's seat, having the damn nerve to manspread in it.

"Nothing."

"Mm, not gonna fly with me, sweetheart."

"I just can't believe she's been sending you nudes."

"So what? It doesn't mean anything."

"Yeah right, with that body of hers? How could it not? You used to have a thing for her."

"Used to."

"Her body is fucking perfect, it's annoying."

"Babygirl, don't do that. I don't like when you compare yourself. You're the only person I know who's close to perfect." He boops your nose, but it leaves you unamused. You're just letting your feelings of insecurity and jealousy get to you that everything is clouded. All the things he's saying doesn't reach you, and you're literally in the mood to pick a fight for no whole ass reason over it. That was exactly one of your other bad habits that you had trouble unlearning.

"Whatever." You brushed him off, making him a little irritated with the way you were coming off over this. Again, Taehyung doesn't mind reassuring you. He loves doing it. He loves babying you and being the best he can be. But there were days where your attitude did get to the best of him, especially when he was trying. Taehyung hadn't given you a reason to make you doubt him since you two became exclusive, so he didn't think it was necessary for you to act the way you were acting.

"Really, Y/N? This isn't necessary."

"Why are you still even entertaining her snaps? Shouldn't you have gotten rid of her contact info already?" He grabs his phone and blocks her on snapchat, showing it to you before shoving it into the small storage space under the car's radio.

"There, happy?"

"Why are you so mad about it? I'm sorry you want to see her body so fucking badly."

"I'm mad because you're being a brat when you don't need to be." He looks at you intimidatingly with his piercing eyes. "You're putting words in my mouth. I never said I wanted to. Plus, I've told you time and time again that it was nothing and that it didn't mean anything to me." You roll your eyes, getting out of the passenger's seat to make your way up to your apartment.

Alright so, here's the deal. You feel like Taehyung is missing the point. Aiko looked so good in that ones nap. So good that you suddenly questioned your own look and felt completely insecure. You disliked hearing him say it wasn't a big deal, because it was. To you, at least.

Taehyung sighed heavily before going after you. He does a light jog, barely catching the elevator you had hopped into.

"Y/N, don't do that." You glared at him.

"It's not a big deal, right?" He sighs again before running his hand through his curly hair. The elevator doors open, but he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back in and preventing you from walking out. "Tae, let me go."

"Nah." He shrugs. "Not until we fix this." The elevator stays at their floor.

"You said it wasn't a big deal." You crossed your arms.

"Okay, I'm sorry." A good thing about Taehyung is that he's learned to be better about admitting his mistakes and saying sorry when he's in the wrong. "I shouldn't have said it in a way that would make you feel like I'm discrediting your feelings." You continue to look at him silently, the elevator suddenly going back down to the lobby. "And I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner or get rid of her shit earlier. But baby, her snapchats don't mean a thing to me. I don't care how 'good' she looks or if they're nudes." He uses finger quotes. "It's still not you."

"I just--" You sighed, watching a lady come into the elevator to join you two to go up to the 8th floor. "I feel like I can't look that good. She had the perfect hourglass figure and she looked so good posing for her nudes. The perfect angle, her hair, the way she smiled through her eyes. I can only imagine what the others were like." He shook his head and shrugged.

"I honestly don't remember." Truthfully. He really didn't care about them, even if he took a quick glance. At the end of the day, they still weren't memorable because it wasn't his lady. "And I don't care if she has that, or whatever it is. I love you." He smiles toothlessly at you. You catch the lady scrunch her nose and smile at you both before walking off. "I love every single thing about you. You're the definition of perfect to me. I hate when you compare yourself because I really, really wish you could see the way I see you."

"Cheesy." It causes you to chuckle a bit and press your hand against his chest as he presses the button to your floor.

"Yeah, okay. You still like to hear it though, I know you." He smirks playfully as he pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head. "If it's not you, I don't want it."

"I honestly hate you sometimes." He shrugs before picking you up by the legs and carrying you, causing you to squeal.

"So then hate me."

"Put me down!"

"Say it to my face in bed, baby." He playfully smacks your ass in the hallway, allowing it to echo as he carries you to your apartment. It was hard to stay mad at Taehyung, but you were grateful you had someone like him who could bring you back down to Earth. You had your fair share of bickering and unnecessary arguments [because you liked picking fights with your attitude], but he was still able to show you that he would ride or die for you, no matter how silly things got.

That was your man, and your man only. Sorry Aiko.

[writerofblocks]

*sneaks this in* Bridget/Troy - things you said with no space between us (or) things you didn’t say at all

This was. From a long ass time ago. BUT ITS FINISHED NOW SO IM POSTING IT.

Sleepless in Stilwater

“Three.”

“Hmm?”

Troy held up three fingers. “That’s the third time you’ve yawned in as many minutes. And I’d be okay with that if you weren’t, you know, doin’ seventy on a forty-five mile an hour highway.”

Bridget broke eye contact with the road long enough to give him a sidelong glare that would wither a lesser man. “I’m not the only one doing their best Fast and the Furious impression out there,” she irritably shot back. A sports car rushed past them with an ear splitting squeal that made Troy jump, and she gestured at it. “See?”

Troy sunk back into the leather seat of the [insert car model here], returning her glare with one of his own. “That’s not the point and you know it. The point is I’d rather not end up a red smear on the pavement because my wheel man fell asleep at the goddamn wheel.”

“Oh, is that all I-” Her mouth cracked open into another face-splitting yawn; she barely managed to hide it behind her hand. “-all I am to you? Your wheel man?”

“Four. And don’t give me that crap, you’re the one that called dibs on driving.”

“I only called dibs cause you drive like a grandma on a broken scooter.”

“You mean I drive the speed limit.”

Bridget ignored him. “Besides,” she said, swerving around a semi-truck sharp enough to make him grab at the handle above the passenger window, “I’ve got places to be after this. Julius called me about a-” she let out another yawn. “-about a storage place, said the Rollerz keep their best wheels there.”

A smirk crossed Troy’s face. He waited until Bridget’s attention was on him before he held up five fingers and wiggled them. It was worth it to see the way her eyebrows dropped into a sharp V before she jabbed a finger in his direction. “Don’t you fucking say it.”

“Don’t need to say anything.”

The one finger swiftly flipped upward into giving him the bird as she returned her attention to the highway. “You’re lucky I don’t throw you out on the highway this second,” she growled, though a smile playing at the corners of her lips undercut the hostile tone.

Troy chuckled, then settled back in his seat enough to look out the car window. Stilwater was a shithole on a good day, but the oranges, purples, and blues of sunset colored the world into something more palpable to take in. Light bounced off the towering buildings of Downtown, harsh edges and cold, reflective glass softening under the gentle touch of twilight. But you could only watch buildings whiz by for so long. His gaze, as it so often did in these rare quiet moments, returned to her.

As much as he bitched about it, there was one thing he didn’t mind about Bridget being the go-to driver. It allowed him time to just… take her in. Look openly, without other people seeing and giving him crap for being lovestruck. Without her giving him crap for being lovestruck, because even after the months they’ve been together she still shied away from open affection more often than not. She cuts the sentiment with a joke, or by teasing him, or some combination of both. He doesn’t mind it- he wonders sometimes if he’s a glutton for punishment, given his career path and choice of romantic partner, but he doesn’t mind being so. Not with her around.

So he looks at her. The way her eyelids keep fluttering slightly, only for her to stubbornly hold them back open. The dark circles he’d think were black eyes if they weren’t only on her lower eyelids. She’s tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, jiggling the leg not in charge of the pedals. Any motion to tell her body it isn’t time to sleep yet. He’d make a joke about looking in a mirror if seeing it didn’t bother him so much.

That was the downside of being undercover. You got real good at seeing things people tried to hide. He had to say something. He opened his mouth, and...

“For real, though. You look like shit. Have you slept at all?”

And of course something stupid came out. Miracle of miracles, she scoffed instead of chucking him onto the highway. “Bold move to question my sleeping habits. How many used coffee mugs are on your desk again?”

Troy chose to ignore her words. “Look man, just-” He sighed, running a hand down his face. “-go home. Take a shower or something. Get some food. You need a break, Bridge.”

Bridget’s face was impassive, staring straight forward as she shifted the car into the express lane. “Can’t. Julius-”

Enough of this. “Did he tell you to do it tonight?” he asked, cutting her off before she could restate whatever bullshit task Julius had given her to do on top of everything else he’d piled on her. For fuck’s sake, sometimes it felt like she was carrying the whole gang by herself in between the tasks Julius sent down the pipeline and the duties she’d taken on herself to perform.

The glare she gave him could melt permafrost. “No.”

“Then do it tomorrow when you’re fresh.”

“I’m fresh enough,” she bit out. “You’re worrying way too much-”

The words burst from his chest before he could vet them. “I’m worrying the right goddamned amount for someone watching a person he cares about take way more shit on than she needs to.”

Bridget’s eyes went wide, whatever she’d been about to say dying in her open mouth.

Troy ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know if this is some macho attempt to prove yourself or some shit, but you don’t have to do this. Slow down. Take care of yourself. Just- please.”

She was quiet for several minutes, eyes locked on the road as she slowed to match the speed of traffic. He’d almost given up on getting a response before she spoke again. “I won’t go to the storage place tonight. It’s-” She swallowed. “It’s late. Rollerz’ll be getting the cars out for races by now, there’s bound to be way more hanging around than during the day.”

He knows those justifications. Her saying he’s right without saying it directly. When she spoke again, her voice was careful. “Got anything else going on later?”

Manila folders scattered across a coffee table, a rapidly growing pile of cigarette stubs as he figures out the best way to ruin his friend’s lives-

“Nothing that can’t wait.”

When Bridget had first joined the Saints, Troy had thought her unreadable. It was easier now to read her once he knew what to look for. Her rubbing her thumb against the side of her index finger- something self soothing. Bouncing her leg- buying time to think. The lift of her head to look at him directly- she was searching him, weighing his reaction. “Feel like staying over?”

Always. “If you want me to.”

The tension in Bridget’s shoulders dissipated, and she gave him a small smile. “Of course I do, that’s why I asked,” she replied, punching him in the arm. “Dumbass.”

===

Rain tapped an improv jazz rhythm on the glass of Bridget’s bedroom window, and Troy couldn’t sleep. Blame the cigarettes, the coffee, the crippling anxiety and paranoia. The cause ultimately didn’t matter, the effect was the digital clock on Bridget’s bedside table hit 2AM and he was no closer to falling asleep than he was when he originally lay down. Bridget, though. Bridget had been asleep the moment her head touched the pillow. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a moment of satisfying vindication.

He rolled over, resting a hand on her arm.

It was strange to see Bridget asleep. If Bridget was awake, she was moving- tapping her foot, shifting from side to side. She bounced her heels if a meeting went too long, rattling the table until he placed a hand on her thigh to get her to stop (among… other reasons). If she chose to talk, she talked with her whole body, her hands dancing in the air. Even when she was seated and still, a part of her still seemed to tremble with energy, anticipation and eagerness. Not now, though. Now she laid there, the rise and fall of her chest the only motion. Light drifted through the cracks in the blinds from the streetlight outside her window, resting softly on the freckles on her cheeks.

His hand traveled down her arm, into the dip of her waist, over the swell of her hip bone. Bridget wasn’t a paper-thin waif by any stretch of the imagination, but without the bulk of her sweatshirt to fill out her usual silhouette, she looked… smaller. More vulnerable. Which was ridiculous, he’d seen what she could do with a gun- hell, forget a gun, he’d seen the havoc she created with her fists alone- but somehow. Somehow that veneer was stripped away in the hazy orange light of a half-dead lamppost bulb, and the only thing left was a tired twenty-one year old who needed a hell of a lot more sleep than she was getting.

Christ. She really was twenty-one, wasn’t she? The face she wore around the other Saints made her seem older than that. It was all harsh angles and stony silences, only a twitch of a smile or a slight furrow in her brow betraying the emotions running electric through her veins. The uncertainty there at the beginning had long since suffocated under a rap sheet he hated to tally up in his head. It was a thing with no remorse, and little room for mercy.

And yet that face was forgotten in her sleep. The ever present tension slackened, releasing that hardened shell and letting it fall away in favor of something softer. She denied the existence of that softness, but he knew. He was allowed to know, he realized, warmth settling in his chest at the thought. Of all people, she’d offered that gift to him.

And it’s a gift you’ll lose soon.

The thought cut a sharp line through the haze, frozen against the warmth of the moment. Troy stilled, his hand resting on her waist. Somewhere in between the light on her cheeks and the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest, he’d forgotten what would be waiting for them. That as much as he tried to dodge and delay, the day Chief Monroe decided it was time to pull the plug on the Saints was coming sooner than later- and Bridget, ambitious and unknowing, was only hastening that end.

His sigh was frayed, thin and trailing off into nothing. This relationship was never going to last forever. He’d known that going in, had willingly condemned them both to heartbreak, but it hadn’t mattered then. That future had drowned in the affection in her gaze. The warmth of her laughter. The spark of her lips on his. But now…

Troy cupped Bridget’s cheek, pressing his forehead gently against hers as he closed his eyes. “I’m gonna miss you,” he whispered. He had to say it, just once. Even if she didn’t hear it- since she would never hear it- it needed to escape before it withered under his held tongue. It needed to exist, just for a moment, all his regrets pouring into that simple, weighted phrase.

At some point she’d wake up, either through him gently shaking her or her own merit. Either way she’d grouch at him for not waking her up sooner, blinking blearily at him in a hopelessly endearing way she’d punch him for if he ever mentioned it. She’d whip the covers off of both of them, laughing when he protests. Showers would follow, breakfast of some sort, and time would continue to march forward to that inevitable, heartbreaking point.

But that was a future they didn’t have to face yet. For now, they could stay like this- curling into each other, breath to breath and at peace.

For now, he’d save her a rude awakening.

[franeridart]

Anon said: Ahh I really love your art, especially the way you present your story telling in the comics!! I smile every time I see them on my timeline haha thanks for making my (and likely many others) day! Wishing you all the best!!

Thank you so much!!!!! Especially glad to hear you think my comics’ storytelling works ;O; it means a lot!

Anon said: your satosugu arts give me life omg it's so beautiful and i love how smitten gojou is in all of them😭❤️ thank you for giving us pleasant escape from the disaster that is canon

AH GOSH thank you!!! Gojo lives all his feelings to the fullest doesn’t he! He’s a lot of fun to think about as happy and in love, he gives of the feeling of a warm hug to me ;; back in high school Geto was more reserved with his feelings, but I think he’d show it in his own very soft ways.....ahhhhh man, I love them ;;

Anon said: Your Satosugu is giving me life and also the fluff i need because HOLY SHIT THOSE CHAPTERS ;-;

I KNOW gege really looked at the old gen and went “enough with these dudes” huh lmao but I’m excited to see how everything is gonna turn out from now on! Esp since having been abandoned by the elders the protags are gonna have at the same time more options and less wiggle room.......... interesting!! Can’t wait!

Anon said: hey hey hey i just found your acc and i'm so invested in it already GDJSKALA I LOVE YOUR ART as a beginner like can't draw a circle beginner i truly admire your work also do you have any tips on what i should do to improve my art? because i'm on the brink of giving up istg cause my progress is just none there's no progress idk what to do like pls help me HAHAHHAHA idk what to watch how to practice what to do nothing absolutely nothing but i'm trying my best to hang on cause whenever i keep seeing artists like you it just makes me hang on and be like just keep going but even though i say that i'm going nowhere still so pls help... - 🍄

Ah man, I’m glad I can make you feel like keeping trying!! I answered an ask like this a while back here and I can’t say I have anything new to say on the matter? I hope it’ll help you! In the end the biggest suggestion I can give you is to try to figure out what it is that you want to draw and just draw it! Even if you don’t know how to, just draw it the way you can! As long as the act of drawing itself makes you happy more than the final result you’ll keep up with it and the improvement will come for sure! 

Anon said: your art always brightens my day. thank you for sharing it!

Thank you for liking it!!! ;;O;;

Anon said: Idk anything about jujutsu kaisen (I hope I write it well), but seeing your fanarts tempts me to start watching it 😍😍😍

I hope you’ll like it if you do try it!!!!! It’s not a story for everyone, but it is a great story for its own genre! And the studio animating it is doing a wonderful job of making it a work of art too TT0TT

Anon said: Hi! Don’t mean to bother but I wanted to let you know that the user yslkeii on tik tok has reposted some of your art. It’s the “some of my favorite dilfs” video, I think the thumbnail is a photo of Levi Ackerman. She knows that none of the artists in the vid allow reposts but won’t take it down so I figured I’d let them know

Thanks for letting me know! Sadly, I have literally no clue how to act on this for tik tok orz if they could at least credit................ I’m not even too opposted to having my stuff used in videos if there’s credit...................................sigh

Anon said: Hello, I was wondering if I could use some of your old mha art as a reference? I won’t post it anywhere, or trace your work I promise!

Sure you can!! If you don’t mean to post it you don’t even need to ask for permission! Just, you know, my stuff is full of mistakes everywhere so don’t take it too much as a good source for proper anatomy reference and stuff like that!

Anon said: a thought i've been sitting on, having not seen it, that is sending me. gojo/geto color pallet swap

You know, I did see that a while back! White-haired Geto and black-haired Gojo, it was stunning! Didn’t look much like themselves though, Gojo especially hahaha the white hair is really distinctive of him, isn’t it? With it black he kinda looks like first-year!Yuuta with sunglasses hahaha

Anon said: Hey! How you doing? So, i wanted to ask you if I could use one of your Kamijirou's fanarts in my Twitter edit, with credits of course! I hope you get mad with this shitty ask, i totally understand if you don't let me use, is your right ♡

I’d prefer it if you didn’t, sorry!!

Anon said: huhghhuhfjfjd i was scrolling thru your art and i hit a todokiribaku thing you made for a friend an d honestly that's all ive ever needed in life. your friend's taste is impeccable *sobs*

She does doesn’t she!! That’s still one golden ot3, I doubt that’s gonna change any time soon

Anon said: sfdghffgdgd gojo has the right idea. they should just make out

They should!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I wish they had!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anon said: i've been looking at your art for months and i //just// realized you've started drawing noses from different angles *facepalm*

I’m trying my best!! It’s one of the things that limited my style the most AND one of the most difficult things for me to tackle, so I’m giving it a shot but still, you know, expect them to stay inconsistent for a while haha

Anon said: so five ish years ago i followed you for haikyuu, then got into bnha through your art and now im very tempted to watch jujutsu kaisen because of you as well

ANON!!!!!! I’m so glad and happy you kept me company this long and through this many fandoms!!!! TTATT if you do try jjk I hope you’ll like it! And if you don’t and decide to leave that’s okay too, I’m just really grateful you stuck around this long already!!! ;;A;; <3<3

[multi-lefaiye]

its midnight for me but i must scoob and shag. OK SO I WANNA ADD SOMETHING I JUDT NOTICED. i was gonna go on about the beings but im looking at the scene with Deedee and. She touches a glass wall. Its very VERY obvioudly pointed out to us- Deedee spends FOUR panels examining it, pointing it out to the viewer.

The only other time we see this, in relations to the color beings, is in Screen, chapter #102, where we get confirmation that Mickey has the red being's blessing. We see Minnie on the other side of that glass, so i really do think Mickey just sacrificed her or something for the red being's blessing.

ALSO the sound effect that plays when Deedee gets the blessing is the exact same as scoob's (BA-BUMP)! So yeah, Scoob has Cyan. Ok now going off of that, Bugs has Magenta on her side, and reading her dialogue when it's "revealed" (chapter 100), it does seem she at least wants to help unite the toones and martians to kick mick's ass. Im guessing she made some sort of speech to the martians that moved Magenta the same way Deedee did? I also find it kinda interesting how the being speaks in another language and has to be translated through closed caption. Did all the beings talk like this? How did the deals get made without anyone understanding eachother?

ALSO I THINK CYAN'S THING IS MEMORIES. We know Scoob also had his memories wiped right? But i dont think the scene where Shag is dying is where the deal is made actually! In chapter 82, theres ONE panel that has color! A small, cyan star, while everyone is falling through space. After that? Cyan sunflowers. And its the scene that we flash back to when Scoob, as im gonna guess, reconnects to Cyan's blessing and gets his memories back. Maybe not 'memories' exactly, but new beginnings? im not sure, Scoob absolutely has the connection to Cyan when the sunflowers show up. Im not exactly sure of what it means exactly, but Scoob absolutely did SOMETHING in that moment to save everyone and cause the sunflowers to pop up. Maybe its a side effect of him not using his ballyhoo bc of the mind wipe? Honestly if we get another shot of all those sunflowers wilted and dead as Scoob uses his ballyhoo id consider it to 100% be the case. IM GONNA LOOK THRU THE WHOLE COMIC AND SEE IF THERES ANY OTHER COLORS POPING UP BC IM CURIOUS NOW,,,

HI IT'S MIDNIGHT FOR ME AS WELL BUT I WANT YOU TO KNOW I AM GOING FERAL HOLY SHIT. I am a very sleeby sleeby mans but also? Scoob and Shag fuels me. I don't think I have much to add now b/c it's reaching the time of night where my brain gets extra mushy, but YOOOOOOO-

First, YEAH that glass wall is something I'm still really intrigued by. I went back and looked at that update once you pointed it out, and I'm thinking this ties back to what you were talking about before, in general with the meta narrative going on here. I think that glass wall is perhaps some kind of TV screen. Do I have evidence for this? Not really, but I think that'd be an interesting way to tie everything together. Also don't have much in the way of thoughts on the implications for that, but anyway.

Next, I 100% agree that Minnie being sacrificed in some way for Mickey to get Red's blessing is what happened, or at least it was something along those lines. Why he did this, though, I think could MAYBE be tied to some of his dialogue in the flashback with Gerald--I find it really interesting when he was talking about bringing back the dead and wanting to be as powerful as a god. While most of that was definitely tailored to getting Gerald to do his bidding, taking advantage of Gerald's grief for Arnold, I think it's an interesting angle to take.

We know Mickey is very manipulative, but it's just interesting and stands out to me that that's the specific angle he uses. If nothing else, I think it's possible that he could've used Minnie's presumed death as a way to get Gerald to trust him--I'm gonna go ahead and assume that Minnie's cause of death isn't known to most people, and Mickey could have framed her death as another tragedy that he is looking to reverse, rather than something he very likely was responsible for. (Also random side-note but the symbolism of the trapped fly in that particular chapter is interesting to me too. Just wanted to mention that.)

Anyway yeah okay the sound effect is also an interesting point--it's clear there's some kind of connection intended there, and the connection being that they've both made some sort of deal with these beings makes the most sense. I am also intrigued by the point you mentioned--Deedee specifically was able to understand Magenta because of her Ballyhoo, and before she uses it, there's no way for her (or us, the viewer) to understand what they're saying. However, I think it's possible that the other characters were still able to make deals, and that's because using the term "deal" is a bit inaccurate here. If we assume that Deedee's interaction with Magenta is standard, then she didn't really offer anything in return or even have to speak. She was granted Magenta's powers because Magenta was moved by her situation. So, we could make the jump that that's what happened with Bugs and Scoob as well.

Though, if Mickey intentionally sought out Red's powers and may have sacrificed Minnie to obtain them, that does complicate things, but on that note I'm just gonna say we don't know enough to make definitive conclusions, and since Mickey is shown to use others' Ballyhoos to accomplish his ends, he might've found a way to interpret the being somehow. (I'm not saying he used Deedee here, to be clear--I'm just saying I wouldn't put it past him to have figured something out.)

ANYWAY okay I said I wasn't going to add much and then I went off the shits huh. But yeah anyway I think you're onto something as well with Cyan being related to memories--I've mentioned the fucking cyan flowers thing so many times because I wasn't sure how it connected, but you're right that that's NOT the first instance of cyan as a color appearing. It appears at the end of the chapter before, a small light in the darkness. Man, I even remember losing my shit over this at the time it came out, wondering what it all means. (Also yeah lmao I've been following this comic since before the Coward King arc, I just never posted about it 'cause I didn't know if there was a fandom at all. I think I specifically started reading soooometime after Bugs first showed up? But before Mickey, so. Hm)

ANYWAY YEAH I THINK THE DEAL BEING MADE DURING THE COWARD KING ARC MAKES THE MOST SENSE.... oops caps. But yeah, thematically and taking the memory wipes into account, it makes more sense that the deal was made long before Scoob was first able to use those powers. Which, actually, would make Scoob the first to have made a deal that we're aware of. Mickey didn't have red eyes in the Coward King arc, and color is only introduced at the very end. Considering Mickey was in containment for 15 years, the deal had to have been made during that time. Whiiich does complicate the idea of Minnie being sacrificed in exchange--I don't see how he would've been able to do that while he's holed up in that chamber. Unless there's something I'm missing or that hasn't been revealed yet on that front, I think this points to Minnie's death happening earlier in the timeline. Perhaps as part of the experiments Mickey was conducting with Antihoo?

Also, on the note of the fly again, the comic specifically makes a point to show the fly surviving the microwave--could this point to Minnie being alive, since it draws a comparison between her and the fly?

ANYWAY okay wow sorry I'm the wordiest bitch alive but really talking about this with you has really got my brain going fucking WHIRRRRRR. I'm so fucking intrigued by the implications that Scoob, based on the timeline we have now, seems to have been the first to make a deal with any of the entities. Which would mean Cyan was the first to choose to interfere in some way--Red's involvement likely came later, possibly in retaliation to Cyan? Idk, I'm spitballing, and I don't think we know enough about the entities to draw definitive conclusions, but it's REALLY fucking fun to think about what we know so far and theorize about what might be coming up.

[free-pool-trash]

folklore - isaac lahey {9/?}

Hey lovlies ✌🏻💕 sorry this part took so long something wasn’t sitting right with me so I rewrote it like 3 time 😫 but don’t worry I figured it out.

It’s all angst from here I’m afraid crew

👁💧👄💧👁

Pleasssssse let me know what you think, im hanging by a thread here 😭💕

Word count: 5.1K

Warning(s): fluff at the start :), a whole bunch of swearing, blood, mentions of death, let me know if I missed any! <3

Masterlist

taglist (open): @makeusfreefromthisfandom​, @cece-lives-here ​, @chocolate-raspberries​, @belsandthings​, @dancing-tacos-23 , @truly-dionysus​, @britty443​, @tanyaherondale​, @furiouspockettoad​, @yunsh-17 , @random-thoughts-003​, @gloomybrieyxb​​, @linkpk88 ​, @big-galaxy-chaos​ , @im-a-stranger-thing ​​, @its-evita-here , @pad-foots , @sweetpeabellamyblakedracomalfoy , @bookswillfindyouaway ,  @what-the-hap-is-fuckening​, @awkwardnesshabitat​, @pieces-by-me , @wreny24​, @marveloucnco , @babypink224221 , @bookish-bucky @alexa-rae-dreamz , @thebookisbtr , @nxstalgicnxbxdy , @cloudy-zoey , @booknymph02 , @tairisceana let me know if you’d like to be added <3  (i had to remove some because tumblr wont let me tag them 💔)

The next morning came by all too quickly, you’d barely gotten any sleep. Yourself and Isaac spent the whole night talking, just like you used to before the tone of your lives had changed drastically.

There was so much you needed to get off your chest, and of course Isaac had a lot to say too so that’s what the pair of you did- put everything out on the table.

You did a whole lot of talking, laughed a lot, cried a little and for the first time ever during one of your and Isaac’s late night chats there was an incredible amount of shared kisses. Those little perks of being a couple were something you could definitely get used to.

Your fingers drew circles on Isaac’s chest, the boy laid there, contently looking down at you. Your head was comfortably tucked against his shoulder, turned up at an angle so that you were still face to face.

He noted how your eyes glinted in the morning sun, watery due to lack of sleep. It was crazy to him; the effect that you had. He swore he could be on fire and all it would take to put him out was one of your reassuring smiles pointed even vaguely in his direction.

Realistically, Isaac knew he should’ve been sad- heartbroken, even. His father had just been quite brutally murdered, he should be a mess, but he wasn’t.

Maybe it had something to do with the years of trauma the man had inflicted on him or maybe it was Isaac’s new supernatural status, whatever the reason for it, Isaac wasn’t mourning the death of his father.

Instead, all he could think about was how warm your body felt against his.

“It’s morning time.” He smiled at your murmur, the smile widened when you pressed a soft kiss to his collarbone.

Isaac hummed in acknowledgment and squeezed your leg that you had thrown across his stomach. “Yeah.”

You moved your chin to rest against his chest, eyes looking into his, “We can stay here if you want. We don’t have to go to school.” You suggested but Isaac knew it was more of a plea when he saw the hopeful grin growing on your lips.

“Nah I gotta go in. I have lacrosse practice.” He spoke out, his voice low and grumbly from how tired he was.

You scoffed jokingly, pushing yourself up so your lips were hovering over his, “Lacrosse huh?”

His eyes were hooded now as he glanced down at your lips, his hands moving to grasp your waist, “Mhm.”

With a smirk you ghosted his lips with your own, you could hear his heart beating through his chest and you could feel how badly he wanted to connect his lips to yours.

“Well then I guess we better get a move on.” You whispered against his lips, pulling away abruptly and hoping out of the bed, strutting to the bathroom with a sway in your hips as you knew he was watching.

A look of disbelief was painted across his face as he shouted through the walls, “Out of all the things that have happened this week that was the most fucked up!”

*

You were going to kill Scott when you got your hands on him. Seriously could he have been anymore obvious?

“Scott! What the hell are you doing.” You whispered from the bleachers, knowing he could hear you.

The boy whispered back, determination clear in his voice, “There’s another werewolf. I need to find out who it is.”

He must’ve smelled it off him. So much for keeping it a secret.

“Scott stop, I know who it is.” You panicked, by the time the words left your mouth both Isaac and Scott had sent each other flying through the air.

As you made your way down from your spot on the bleachers to separate the commotion happening between your two baby werewolves, you noticed sheriff Stilinski and a few deputies making their way across the field.

The sheriff’s gaze was set on Isaac and you found your feet matching the older man’s pace in a silent race to get to the boy in question.

Unfortunately, since you were unable to use vamp speed, the sheriff had beaten you in the unspoken race. His hand had wrapped around Isaac’s bicep as he attempted to lead him away.

When you realised what was happening, you threw caution to the wind and began jogging, not even sparing Scott or Stiles a glance when they called out for you to stop.

Once you were close enough you reached out, successfully grabbing Isaac’s wrist and stopping him and the sheriff in their tracks. “What’s going on?” You demanded, looking between Isaac and the sheriff.

“They think I killed my dad.” Isaac told you quietly and you couldn’t stop the look of utter disbelief that appeared on your face as you moved to stand between Isaac and the sheriff.

“Are you kidding me?” The sheriff sighed with exhaustion at your shout. He knew it was going to be a long day when he saw his son and Scott marching toward the already escalating scene.

“Look, kid. He���s a suspect we have to hold him.” Sheriff Stilinski had been making arrests for a long time but he was sure the look you were giving him was the most venomous he’d ever seen.

“A suspect? Why? What’s your proof?” You shot out, eyebrows furrowed and fangs ready to spring from your gums.

Maybe it had something to do with the night of the full moon looming but you were finding it extremely difficult to keep your anger in check. After yesterday, you were almost certain if your rage got out out of hand there’d be no stopping you.

“We, uh, have reason to believe that Isaac had motive to kill his father. That’s all I can tell you.”

You scowled at him, easing up only slightly as you felt Isaac interlocking his fingers with yours from behind you. “That’s bullshit! He couldn’t have killed his dad because he was with me.” You lied smoothly.

The sheriff raised an eyebrow in disbelief, “With you?”

“Mhm. At my place.” You continued, ignoring the squeeze of warning you were getting from Isaac.

“Look, we have an eye witness account saying that Isaac fled his home, followed by his father and your name never came up.”

Letting out a cynical laugh you all but squared up to the man, “Yeah? And where do you think he fled to?” You asked challengingly.

You would’ve said more if Stiles hadn’t shoved himself in between yourself and his father, sporting a fake smile on his face as he started to ramble, “Hey guys! How we all doing? Good? Good. That’s really great to hear. (Y/n) can I borrow you for a second?” Stiles prompted you, nodding his head rather aggressively in an attempt to get you to stand down.

“No.” You and the sheriff spoke simultaneously, shocking Stiles.

“Young lady, I don’t think you understand the seriousness of what you’re saying. Being an accomplice to murder is a serious offence.” He told you sternly, clearly wanting to give you an opportunity to back down and walk away.

“(Y/n) come on.” Scott pleaded from behind you and you could feel the anxiety seeping off of both Stiles and Isaac.

Stiles laughed nervously, also trying to give you a fighting chance of walking away, “She’s not an accomplice! You’re not an accomplice, right?”

He fixed you with a confused look and repeated, “Right?”

“No I’m not an accomplice because Isaac didn’t kill his father!” You rebutted angrily through gritted teeth, the boys surrounding you terrified of the look on your face in that moment.

With a hard look, sheriff Stilinski took your arm in one hand and Isaac’s in the other and pulled the pair of you towards the police car, “I’m afraid I’m gonna have to take you both into holding.”

“Why the hell would you do that?” You heard Scott exclaim desperately from behind you, his voice two octaves higher than usual.

Carefully, you began to whisper quietly under your breath so that only Scott and Isaac would hear you, “Tonight’s the full moon. I’m not letting them put him in a holding cell alone. Call Derek. Come get us out.”

You didn’t glance back at Scott to check if he heard you, you simply kept walking ahead and complied with the sheriff as he placed you into the car, beside Isaac.

*

“Since we’re technically in prison and you’re technically part k9, does that mean you’re my bitch?” You wondered out loud, looking across the holding cell at Isaac who sat (moping) on the bench.

“Don’t make me laugh. I’m mad at you.” He grumbled and you pouted from your spot on the floor.

“It was a serious question.” You whined.

Isaac groaned, completely disregarding your question, “You’re insane? You know that don’t you?”

“Rude.” You complained, leaning your head back against the cold bars of the cell.

“No seriously. You shouldn’t be in here with me.” Isaac grumbled yet again.

“Ok, first of all, you shouldn’t even be in here in the first place because-“ you paused, took a deep breath and looked at the camera adjacent to yourself and Isaac on the wall outside the cell before shouting, “He didn’t fucking do anything!”

You had to force yourself into calming down as you felt your anger causing your heart rate to rise rapidly, you took one more deep breath and then continued what you had been saying.

“Secondly, and in all seriousness, the idea of you being in here on your own makes me feel physically sick, especially since it’s your first full moon and all this crap with the Argents going on… I just wanted to be with you.” You admitted sheepishly, picking at the sleeves of your jumper to avoid his gaze.

Isaac’s heart beat picked up at your words but you couldn’t say anything as yours had too, with a soft sigh he muttered, “You don’t have to protect me.”

“I know. I know you don’t need protection, you never have. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t strength in numbers right now.” Isaac was quiet for a second before speaking up again.

“Hey, babe?” You looked up at the sound of his voice, he was giving you a soft smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“Yeah?” Isaac was shaking his head in disbelief, he let out a short chuckle and made his way across the cement floor and slid down beside you.

You watched him fondly and couldn’t help the roaring laugh that left your mouth when he leaned in close to your ear and whispered, “I’m definitely your bitch.”

*

Before either of you knew it, night had fallen and you’d begun to feel antsy. Your chest grew heavy with each noise or set of passing footsteps. You paced the cell restlessly, wringing your hands together and doing your best to disregard the feeling of dread swelling up inside of you.

It wasn’t long before Isaac was holding his head in his hands, his knee jutting in the same restless manner that you were pacing.

Growls were rising from the back of his throat and you wouldn’t lie, it was making you more than a little nervous.

You slowly approached him, proceeding with extra caution you reached out and tugged on his sleeve, hoping the action would bring him a sense of familiarity and not startle him.

Isaac’s head whipped around, his eyes glowing amber when they landed on you. “What’s happening?” He asked in a growl.

As gently as you possibly could, you moved your hands to Isaac’s cheeks and did your best to ignore his changed features.

“It’s the full moon. How are you feeling?” You kept your voice quiet, again trying to accommodate his heightened senses.

Isaac only screwed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw tightly, “Like I want to rip apart everything I see within a fifty mile radius.”

Your eyes widened and you looked at the holding area door, helplessly wishing Scott would come rushing through the door.

Isaac’s face seemed, for once, not to be comfortable in your hold as he began to growl and attempt to break out of your grip.

“No, no, no. Isaac, hey. Look at me.” The wolf reluctantly stopped wiggling and fixed his gaze on yours. Your eyes were now blazing purple and you felt your own composure slipping from your grasp.

Another gutteral sound left Isaac’s throat, his clawed hands digging into your hips for some kind of leverage. “Just keep looking at me alright… God, I don’t actually know how to do this but, uhm, just think about something that’ll keep you grounded, ok?” You told him frantically, speeding through your words as you heard the approaching footsteps of someone who was definitely not Scott or Derek.

The boy in front of you nodded his head just as the door opened. No, it didn’t open, it was practically pulled off its hinges. Effectively ruining the progress you’d made with your moon crazy boyfriend.

The man who walked in was dressed like a deputy but the gushing wound and arrow sticking out of his leg gave him away as a fake. As well as that, the gun he was pointing at Isaac gave him away as a hunter.

“Oh shit.” It was your turn to growl when Isaac broke out of your grasp. He pulled the cell door clean off, and set off towards the hunter.

Immediately, you ran behind him but before you could stop the two from killing each other, something else caught your eye. And your nose. It had taken over all of your senses, actually…

The blood leaking from his leg had you frozen on the spot, your mouth watering and mind unable to focus.

By now, Isaac had tossed the hunter aside and you weren’t sure when, but at some point Stiles had entered the room and your boyfriend was now attempting to attack your main food source.

“(Y/n)! Little help here?” Stiles cried from the floor and you tried your best to pull yourself together.

It didn’t take too much strength for you to restrain Isaac, you had one arm wrapped around his shoulders and the other around his torso, successfully holding him against your chest.

You hadn’t noticed how hungry you were in the moment, you needed to eat before someone would need to restrain you.

Pushing the hunger away you tried your best to get through to the new wolf struggling against your grip.

“Remember the thing that keeps you grounded! What was it? Tell me about it.” You tried to prompt, however as soon as Isaac attempted to respond a resounding howl filled the room.

The sudden noise had caused Isaac to cower against you. His body shook against yours, reluctantly you released him from your hold, allowing him to curl up in fear against the nearest wall.

Derek stood at the head of the room, his aura screaming for command as he glowered down at Isaac before turning his gaze to you and Stiles.

“I’m the alpha.” The Hale stated pompously.

With a questioning laugh you motioned towards the mess of the room, Isaac in wolf form shaking and whining like a kicked puppy, a mercenary bleeding and unconscious on the tiles and a very rumpled up Stiles.

“What you are is a grade A ass. Where the hell were you?” Derek stiffened at your agitated tone.

The man in question cleared his throat, his authority slipping away in the presence of your glare, “Scott & I went to scope Isaac’s house.”

“And that took you six hours?” You scoffed, kneeling down next to Isaac and running a gentle hand through the scared boy’s hair.

He whimpered at your touch, only quieting down when you transferred as much calming energy as you could manage to conjure up onto him.

It was getting harder to ignore the blood lust you were feeling, the smell of blood and Stiles’ racing pulse were beginning to cloud your mind. It wasn’t the usual hunger, though. It felt far more violent. Almost as if you’d never be able to get enough no matter how much you consumed.

“I need to leave.” You stated, standing from your spot beside Isaac and fixing Derek with a hard look, “Take Isaac somewhere safe.”

“Wait hold on, where are you going?” Derek asked sternly.

“To find some blood before I start ripping people’s throats out.” You responded bluntly, not waiting for his reply, you used your speed to leave the sheriff's station.

You found yourself in the woods. Close to the old Hale house.

There was a certain scent, you couldn’t quite place it though. It was metallic, but unlike the blood you were used to, it smelled stale.

But still, it was captivating your senses and you needed to get to the bottom of it. You couldn’t decide what was more overpowering, your hunger or your curiosity.

Impatiently, you made your way through the darkened tree line, following the scent until it led you to the building you were oh so familiar with.

The Hale house stood before you, menacing as ever and reeking of old blood.

As you walked up the porch steps, the rotten stairs creaked with every shift of weight. When you finally placed your hand on the door you realised your mistake.

What felt like a billion bolts of electricity shot through your body the second your palm met the door knob.

All of your breath left your lungs as your body hit the floor. As your legs and arms seized and convulsed on the forest floor, having rolled down the porch steps with the force of the shock, a voice sounded from out of the shadows.

“Well, well, well. Look what we have here…” The voice was old and scratchy, something like a worn out vinyl, a record that had been played so often that some of the tunes now came out as a painful drawl. “Come on, let’s get her rigged up.” The man demanded and you writhed against the many pairs of hands that began dragging you to what you assumed was some kind of van.

Your vision was blurry as you attempted to get your bearings, sitting up in the van after the doors had been forcefully slammed and you were left alone.

“Le-“ You attempted to heave out words, your attempts were fruitless though as your lungs were still devoid of any oxygen.

Frustration seemed to give you the strength you needed as you finally regained enough control over your body to yell out, a very enraged, “Let me out you bastards!”

A cynical laugh came from the head of the van, “She has a lot of spunk. You’d know she was a L/n.”

“I’m going-“ You rasped yet again, fighting against the shackles that had been placed on your wrists at some point, “To fucking rip your stupid throat out! With my teeth!”

As threatening as your words were, your wheezy, out of breath voice let you down.

“Now, now. No need for that.” He spoke, only for a voice you recognised to cut him off.

“I’m starting to think this wasn’t the best idea.” It was Chris Argent. You forced yourself to move as close to the front of the van as your shackles would allow.

“What exactly do you plan on doing with an innocent seventeen year old, Mr.Argent?” You drawled, the electricity almost completely out of your system, your lungs finally working at their usual capacity again.

When the hunter didn’t grace you with a response, and you figured you couldn’t do much else right in the moment, you decided you’d poke the proverbial bear.

“You tried to kill my boyfriend tonight… it’d be a real shame if I had to retaliate.”

“Shut it.” Chris said, his voice unamused, bordering on nervous.

Bored, you clicked your tongue, “No, I don’t think I will. Anyway, unless you want me to go into graphic detail about how I’m going to disembowel both of you when I get out, tell me why you’re kidnapping me.”

The old man chimed in then, “Because you, little girl, are an abomination.”

“And you, old decrepit asshole, are getting on my last nerve. Give me a straight answer before I make you give me a straight answer.” You tugged violently at the chains, loosening them from the metal wall, to convey your point.

“Brute force will get you nowhere, little wolf.” Wolf? There was your opening. They didn’t have a clue about you.

Deciding you couldn’t give away your only edge, you played into their delusions, “Where was that a few hours ago when you sent a hitman to put down a seventeen year old boy who's never done anything worse than miss an assignment?”

He scoffed then, “No matter how sweet you think you are. You wolves are all the same. You’re all killers.”

A laugh left the back of your throat, “Are you senile or something? Last time I checked you hunter dickheads were the ones killing people.”

“That’s enough, we’re done talking.” Chris asserted, you couldn’t see either of the men you’d been speaking to but you could imagine their clenched jaws at your statement.

With a smirk you kept talking, “You killed, what was it? Oh yes. All of the Hale’s. Cora was only a little older than me at the time, Kate torched the house five years ago so that would have made Cora twelve years old when she was burned alive.”

You paused for a second, allowing your anger to seep off of you and onto them. “Tell me… what monstrosities could a twelve year old girl have committed?”

“This is your last warning.” Chris grumbled and you ignored him yet again.

“All of these broken morals lead me to wonder; what would precious Alison think of all of this? Maybe I’ll ask her at school on Monday.” You tormented the men, readying yourself to make a break for it as you felt the van slow down.

Quietly, or as quietly as you possibly could, you freed your wrists from their shackles. Shakily you stood up and then you waited.

When the door opened you fixed the two men who were looking at you in mild shock with a smirk, “Hi.”

“How did you… those shackles were doused in mistletoe.” At the old man's shock your smirk broadened. It was something you had found out from both Damon Salvatore and Deaton. Mistletoe only weakened wolves, not vampires.

With a coy shrug you shot them a wink, “I’d really love to stay and chat but, I have homework.” With that you began to run, but the older man caught your forearm before you got a clean break.

And normally, his amount of strength wouldn’t have been able to stop you, what was really hindering your movement was the dagger he had logged in your abdomen.

Your eyes were wide and you let out a pathetic squeal of pain when he twisted the knife in your stomach, his voice was menacing as he spoke, “You’re not going anywhere.” He spat out in your face, hand firm on the dagger.

“Yes. I. Am.” You seethed through gritted teeth, containing the blood that was filling your mouth.

Using whatever strength you could muster, you threw the man away from you and took off running, the dagger still lodged in your abdomen.

When you were sure you were far enough away, you fell to your knees.

Taking a shaky breath you looked around the street you’d landed on. You weren’t sure where you were and your phone was lying abandoned on the floor of the woods. It was times like this you wish you had a howl.

Then as if it was some incredible mirage, driving down the street was a light blue jeep. “Stiles!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, dragging yourself to the edge of the road.

“Stiles! Stiles please!” You cried out, letting out a breath of relief when the jeep stopped only a few meters from you.

Within seconds Stiles was sprinting over to you, sliding the rest of the way on his knees and cupping your face with a terrified expression, “Y/n!? What hap- hu- oh dear god!” He tried his best not to gag when he noticed that you were literally impaled.

“Ok. Ok. No what happened? Wait no. Right not important.” The boy rambled and you let him lead you as he picked you up from the dirt and placed you laying down across the back seat of his jeep.

Stiles drove like a madman to the hospital, wincing when you’d whimper and muttering apologies when you’d let out a cry.

“I think you would’ve been really proud of how I handled that situation.” You jested weakly from your spot, Stiles looked at you briefly in disbelief.

“What? By getting stabbed?” He shot back.

You offered him a faint giggle, “Nah, you shoulda heard me, Sty. I was such a snarky bitch.”

“So that’s how the stabbing thing happened. Got it.”

Only a few more minutes passed before you’d arrived at the hospital. Stiles had practically dragged you in and you couldn’t help the mewls of agony you were letting out as he passed you off to Melissa.

“What the hell happened?” She screeched and all you could offer in response was a blood filled cough, causing Melissa to nod her head in understanding, “Right. Questions later.”

*

Aimlessly you looked around for something, anything.

You were in complete darkness, but your body stood tall and seemingly healthy, no sign of any kind of wound.

A dull, yellow light shone in the distance. Cautiously, you took a step forward and it was only then that you knew where you were.

Under your feet, which were devoid of any shoes or socks, wet leaves crunched under your weight and you found yourself, yet again, standing in front of the Hale house.

It looked how it usually did, sad and decolate. However, what was unusual was that dull light shining through one of the partially melted windows.

Humming sounded from the home, hitting your ears in perfect pitch. It brought a wave of calmness over you, tranquilizing your fears as you twisted the knob that had once sent you into a horrific shock.

The rotten hardwood cooled your feet as you shuffled thoughtlessly through the house which you used to view as a home away from home.

“You put up a great fight.” A deep voice spoke from inside the lit room.

The voice was unmistakable, but you knew that there was only one explanation for why you were hearing it. For as long as you could, you wanted to hold onto your naivety.

“Who's there?” You called in response while small steps carried you closer and closer to the room.

The voice let out a chuckle, “I think you already know.”

Finally, you arrived in the room. Confronting the voice you knew all too well.

“Good to see you again, sweetheart.” You saw his face then, standing charred and battered like a fallen angel was Peter Hale.

The sob that fell from you was impossible to stop, you didn’t waste another second, you threw yourself at the man in front of you. A teary smile found your face when he welcomed you with open arms, his arms wrapped tightly around you as you cried into his shoulder.

“Quiet now, no more tears.” He said, pulling away from you, his thumb brushing under your eye gently, sweeping the falling teardrops away.

With a sniffle you looked at your surroundings before returning your gaze to Peter, “Am I dead?” You asked meekly.

Oddly enough, you felt accepting of it. Liked it, almost. It was quiet here- wherever here was.

“Temporarily.” He answered, guiding you further into the room. It had a single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling and two wooden chairs sat vacant underneath it. “Have a seat.”

Doing as told, you sat down on the chair opposite Peter. “Where are we?” You questioned, the silence, although peaceful, was overwhelming.

Peter gave you a small grin, gesturing to the room around you, “Purgatory.” He answered simply.

He stared at you then, a look in his eyes you recognised but, for the first time since you’d turned, you couldn’t feel it. It was something akin to sadness. It held love too, though.

“The next part is the hardest. When you wake up you won’t have a clue how you got there. You’ll be starving and all you’ll want to do is start tearing people apart.” He explained and your stomach dropped.

You were going to wake up and complete the transition, you’d be a fully fledged vampire and all because of some stupid knife wound.

“I won’t remember being dead?”

Peter shook his head, “You’ll remember this part, not the actual passing over part though.”

A tear slipped from your eye and you forced yourself to take in a shaky breath, “Passing over to where?”

Peter shrugged, “Don’t know. I’ve never gotten that far; too much unfinished business.” He tried to lighten the mood, but he realised there was no use as he noticed your breathing pick up and your eyes fill with tears yet again.

“You’re strong, you’ll be perfectly fine. You are my beta, after all.” He soothed, moving his chair so it would be next to yours.

You let out a croaky laugh at that, “I haven’t been strong. I’ve been drowning ever since you bit me, I haven’t done much other than fight with myself.”

“Not true. I’ve been keeping an eye on you. Keeping Derek under control is a job not everyone is up for, but you’re doing it like it’s nothing. Although, you’d be doing a lot better if I had gotten to you before Derek ripped by throat out.” He muttered the last part, obviously not happy with your trip to Mystic Falls.

“Damon told me you used to drink together.” You recalled with a smile, distracting yourself from the future of impending darkness.

Peter laughed at the memory but didn’t speak.

The dense silence returned, not for long though, distantly you heard shouts. They were more like pleads really. Or were they screams?

“Y/n! Can you hear me? Y/n! Y/n!”

Softly, you turned your head towards the doorway, the hallway light was turned on now too, “Someone’s calling me.”

Peter stood up, a heavy grief filled sigh falling from him as he offered you his hand and pulled you to your feet when you took it. “It’s almost time. But not just yet, there's one last thing you need to do.”

“What is it?” You asked, not sure if you wanted to know the answer.

Peter pulled you close, placed a kiss to the top of your head then began guiding you, arm tightly wrapped around your shoulder.

He answered you solemnly, blue eyes sparkling with unwanted wisdom, “You have to say goodbye.”

[vixenpen]

Fuck A Fan (Bakugo x Camgirl reader pt. 1)

You had gotten the idea from one of your best friends in the cam industry.

“You sure this will work?”

“Trust me boo,” he had replied, “sometimes the best motivation for a man is a little friendly competition.”

Your bestie had insisted that a fuck a fan contest would be the perfect way to get CallMeKing to finally make good on his unfulfilled promise to see you.

Putting the finishing touches on your flyer, you finally posted the announcement to all social media. You knew CMK was still lurking. So he’d definitely see it. Hopefully, this little contest would be enough to spark his interest, if this failed, you were going to scream.

Because for the first time in your cam career, a man had you chasing him.

The audacity!

To be fair, he did say that he wanted to see you too, but had to keep a low profile due to his career. He promised as soon as worked dialed down you guys would meet up.

Well that had been over a year ago, and not only had you guys not met face to face; he also didn’t seem to check in on you as much anymore.

He still tipped and re-subbed to your page. He had even cash-apped you money for Christmas and your birthday.

But aside from that, there were no more late night, sexting sessions, no more random check ins, no more nude trading.

At first, you brushed it off.

He was apparently a very successful man. Successful men were busy. They couldn’t give you every second of their time. As a successful woman, you could relate to that.

Not to mention, you were a bad bitch and bad bitches did not pine over any man.

PERIODTTT.

Buuuut...when the man in question was fine as hell with boulders for biceps, a big dick, and long money, well...you’d like to think the City Girls, Meg the Stallion, and all the other bad bitches you looked up to would understand your thirst.

“Alright, King,” you sat back in the furry, white computer chair and glared at your laptop screen. “Ball is in your court now.”

“Mr. Ground Zero, can I get a picture too?”

A precocious looking blue haired kid asked. He stared up at Katsuki with wide, hopeful eyes.

Katsuki grimaced.

“Whatever kid, c’mon.”

He leaned down, attempting to keep a safe distance from the walking germ pool, while keeping in the lens of his camera phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thanks a lot, Mr. Ground Zero!”

The kid giddily ran back to his group of friends.

Kirishima slung his arm around Bakugo’s shoulder, weighing down on his slightly shorter friend.

“Wow, Bakubro, looks like those public relations training classes have really been working, huh?”

“Whatever, I just don’t need anymore shitty press with kids.”

“You still have energy for happy hour with Sero and Me tonight?”

Bakugo replied with a noncommittal shrug. He scrolled absentmindedly through his phone as he and Kirishima headed towards their agencies to call it a day.

He decided to check in on (cam name’s) IG page to see how she was doing.

A pang of longing tugged at him. He missed her. A lot. Sure, she was a cam girl, and being friendly and flirty was her job, but she always brightened his days. With crime picking up steadily over the past year, Bakugo could use her presence in his life now more than ever, unfortunately, nothing in his schedule would permit it.

He was researching a new threat that had been developing in the crime world. Apparently the new mob of villains seemed to have some connections to the crime world in America, and Bakugo found himself flying back and forth to the west for meetings and to make media rounds to help put the public at ease.

His sleep schedule was completely out of whack with all the stress he was under, so any spare moment he wasn’t working, he was sleeping. Which meant no time for his virtual boo thing. Though he did try to make it known he was thinking about her with bill money.

As he flipped through her newest posts, something caught his eyes.

Fuck a fan contest? Winner gets to make content with me at secure location!

What the fuck was this shit?

Whatever it was, he was certainly going to get to the bottom of it when he got home.

CMK: Hey, (cam name) what’s this all about?

Y/N: what does it look like? Fuck a fan contest

CMK: fuck u mean? You don’t do meet ups!

Y/N: 🤷🏾‍♀️ first time for everything.

Anger hummed beneath Bakugo’s skin. Since when did y/n start doing meet ups? She had always told him she didn’t trust her fans as far as she could throw them.

He had encouraged her to not be forthcoming with personal information and never feel like she had to meet up with randos online for money. He would take care of anything she needed before it came to that.

So what was the meaning of this? Had he not been taking good enough care of her? Keeping her bills paid? Her nails and hair done?

Y/N: u entering or what? 👀

CMK: hell no im not entering and neither is anyone else. Now take that shit down.

Y/n: (voice note) first the fuck of all, you don’t tell me what to do. Second the fuck of all, do you know how much money is in this? You ain’t stopping my bag boo. Period! 💅🏾

He was practically seething. Who the fuck did she think she was talking to like that?

Who the fuck did she think she was saying no to?!

His dick stirred in his pants as he re-listened to the voice note of her cursing him out.

CMK: how much does it take to win?

Y/N: just whoever has the most.

CMK tipped $150,000

CMK: now take it the fuck down

Y/N: nobody else has entered yet.

CMK: nobody else up here has the money I have.

Y/N: if you’re not meeting with me, I ain’t takin it down.

CMK: god fucking dammit y/n. Tonight. 9pm. Text me the addy. I’ll have my driver pick you up.

True to his word, CMK had his driver pick you up an hour and a half before the time he had mentioned.

Your knee bounced, causing the black mini dress hugging your shapely thighs to ride up. You pulled it down absentmindedly.

You could count on one hand how many times you had been flown out by one of your fans. It certainly wasn’t a weekly occurrence for you the way it was for other models.

Fear and excitement fluttered in your stomach.

You wondered what the driver thought of you. Heading to this rich and powerful man’s house in the middle of the night.

You had tried to dress up as if you were going to be taken on a fancy date. Your hair styled, silver chandelier earrings dripping from your lobes to match the long silver necklace that dipped between your pushed up cleavage.

If the driver gave two shits, you at least hoped he thought you were going to get a nice meal before getting dicked down.

The community where CMK lived was on the outskirts of town; hidden in a forest of natural and manicured foliage. One could go literal miles between each home before they saw the next one.

You pressed your forehead against the window to take in the flora and fauna, manicured lawns, and huge mansions. So. Many. Styles. Of mansions!

“Here we are ma’am.” the driver announced.

He drove you up a looping, stone drive way that led to a very modern home that reminded you a bit of abstract art what with its odd angles, jutting sides, and square architecture.

The driver stepped out and opened your door. Once you were faced with the massive stairs and wooden doors before you, the song: Pretty Woman blared in your mind. You certainly felt that way.

Before you could knock, the door swung open revealing a pair of red eyes that were devouring your body head to toe.

“Oh my god...”

“Wasn’t expecting to hear that before I even touched you, beautiful.” He chuckled. His lips quirked into the cocky half smirk you’d grown familiar with from his interviews.

Was this real? Call me king was Ground Zero?!

“C-call me king?” You managed to stutter out pitifully.

“I would prefer to call you by your real name.” He joked. “Come in, beautiful.” He grabbed your hand gently and pulled you through the door.

You couldn’t even appreciate the high ceilings, polished wood floors, and tasteful stone wash colored furniture as you followed Ground Zero through the door.

He took leggy strides into the airy kitchen taking out a couple of glasses from a cupboard. You could only gawk.

He looked good as hell in his short sleeved denim button up shirt and ripped black jeans. His physique flexed under the well tailored clothes showing off the broad chest and bulging biceps you’d seen in the Nudes. His spiky Blonde hair looked soft and a bit damp.

“You wanna drink, beautiful?”

“I don’t accept drinks from new people in new environments.”

He looked up to shoot you a half smile. The usual mischief was missing from his red eyes, replaced with genuine affection.

“Of course you don’t. My (cam name.)”

“F/N,” you replied.

“Bout damn time you gave me a real name. Mine is Bakugo, babe.”

He strolled over with a glass of water for himself.

“So, f/n,” his ruby colored eyes darkened with a predatory gleam as he stepped right to your face. “Why don’t you have a seat? I promise the couch won’t bite.”

He brought a hand down to smack your round ass, making you jump.

“Can’t say the same for myself though.”

Licking your lips, you lowered yourself into the couch. Bakugo settled beside you so close the sides of your bodies touched. He draped an arm around your shoulder.

“I know you got a camsona and all, but damn, y/n, where’s my feisty little c/n? Huh? Lil Ms. Period!” His voice took on a lighter tone as he tried to imitate your twang.

The attempt earned him a giggle.

“Well excuse me, sir, but I wasn’t expecting the number two pro-hero in Japan to be my biggest fan.” You snapped back, playfully rolling your eyes. “Forgive me if I’m still wrapping my brain around it.”

“There’s that smart ass mouth I love so much.” He tucked your chin.

This close to him, you could feel his warm minty breath fanning against your lips. A familiar warmth was already growing between your legs.

Pulling away you asked: “Why me?”

“Hah?” His brows knit in confusion. “Fuck kinda question is that? What do you mean why you?”

“I mean, I’m a bad bitch or whatever, but I’m just...me and you’re...you.”

“Tch. You just answered your own damn question, dumb ass.” He tilted your face back towards him. You felt his other large hand roam the bare skin of your thigh and shivered.

“You’re a bad bitch. You don’t seem to forget that any other time, don’t fuckin’ forget it now, got that? Your confidence is what’s sexy about you.”

A smile tugged at your lips as heat flooded your cheeks.

“You know, when you’re not being a fuckin’ asshole, you can be pretty damn charming when you wanna be.”

“And when you’re not being a defiant little brat, you can be real fucking cute.”

A moan slipped from your glossy lips as his hand crept steadily up your thigh

“Please,” you leaned closer to him, “you love my brattiness.”

He scoffed, amused.

“I’ll show you just how much I like it.”

Without warning, Bakugo scooped you up. His large, rough hands dug into the soft flesh of your round ass as he straddled you on his lap.

Your wet, bare pussy pressed into his bulge as he stole a greedy kiss. Your gasp quickly morphed into a moan as desire burned in your core and flooded your entire body.

His tongue overtook your mouth effortlessly.

“No panties, huh, brat? I can feel you leaking through my jeans.”

“I hate panties,” you managed between kisses. “And bras.”

That little confession just inspired more arousal in Bakugo. He deposited you on the long couch and let his hot tongue snake along every sensitive bit of exposed flesh he could find. Goosebumps rose on your skin.

“Damn, beautiful,” he managed between kisses, “can’t wait to taste the rest of you.”

His bulge rubbed your aching clit deliciously.

You tugged his shirt up over his mess of blonde hair.

He grabbed the deep ‘V’ of your dress and ripped it open, drawing a gasp from you.

“Now we match.” He grinned

“You ass—“

“You’ll have a new outfit by tomorrow afternoon, now shut up.”

True to his word, Bakugo tasted every inch of you. He nibbled your ears making you shiver, licked your nipples making you hiss his name, and devoured your toes like blow pops.

Your body was trembling from sensory overload.

“God..” you moaned.

“You look like you want something, babe,” Bakugo smiled wickedly as he hovered above you. “What is it?”

“Eat me.”