#i have stuff planned and in the works though

[tortillamastersblog]

Where Light Bends Wrong - Part 5 | Wednesday Addams

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Warnings: graphic depiction of violence, blood, and death

Summary: You’ve kept your secret buried and your power quiet, until Wednesday Addams came to Nevermore and turned your whole world upside down.

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

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The Harvest Festival is overwhelming to say the least. The smell of cotton candy and greasy food hangs in the air like a suffocating cloud, alongside the deafening screams of kids and adults alike. Combine that with the excitement buzzing in the air, which is making my heart race, and the bright, colorful, flashing lights that make my eyes hurt, it’s making me feel lightheaded.

But it’s doing a pretty good job at drowning out Wednesday’s heartbeat in my ears and making me forget about my earlier breakdown.

After storming to my room, feeling angry and absolutely vulnerable at the prospect of Wednesday finding out what I am, anxiety washed over me because I kept thinking about what would happen if she knew—if anyone knew.

I’d be in so much danger. I’d have to leave Nevermore and run and hide for the rest of my life. And all that just as I’m starting to feel at home here.

Enid screeching next to me on the mini roller coaster makes my ears ring, but I keep smiling, pretending I’m okay again even though I’m not.

“That was awesome!” she exclaims when we get off a moment later, and I just nod and let her drag me over to where Ajax and Yoko are already waiting for us to get some cotton candy.

I catch a glimpse of Wednesday and Tyler over at the Balloon Darts booth, which reminds me that she’s planning on running away tonight. Honestly, after what happened this morning and last night, I can’t say I mind anymore. Even though my pendant pulses with warmth when her eyes briefly find mine in the crowd.

Her hair is in her usual braids, but she’s once again out of her school uniform, wearing a big black sweater jacket that comes down to the middle of her thigh and seems to swallow her whole. It works for her though, especially with the fitted black and white striped cardigan she wears underneath, and her black, high-rise slacks.

Wait, what. It works for her?

I clench my jaw and frown at my own thoughts before quickly looking away and turning back to the others, feeling her dark eyes on me for a long while after I’ve turned away until the feeling finally subsides.

A few minutes later, I can’t help but look back again even though I know she’s not there anymore. The unfamiliar twist in the pit of my stomach that follows makes me stuff a handful of candied almonds into my mouth.

Wednesday is trouble, and she’s leaving. That’s that.

Enid, Ajax, Yoko, and I find a spot near the Ferris wheel just in time to watch the firework show, while I continue to stuff my face with almonds.

I’m overstimulated and uneasy, but I can’t exactly leave now because I’m taking the shuttle bus back to the school with the others later, and where would I go now without making them worry about me again? So I try to enjoy the show.

But then, through all the noise and emotional buzz around me, I hear it again—that now familiar heartbeat. But it’s not as calm and composed as it usually is. No, now it’s frantic, and it makes my stomach flip in a bad way.

My pendant also gets hot almost instantly, and before I know it, I’m out of my seat and pushing my way through the crowd toward it, despite the others' confused protests.

I bump into people left and right but don’t slow down until I break through and get to the edge of the fair. I don’t know what I was expecting, but Wednesday is not here despite how loud and near her heartbeat sounded, which confuses me.

I really don’t know what I’m doing or why because I was just thinking it’s for the better that Wednesday is leaving and I literally cursed her out in front of the school this morning and told her to stay away from me, but my legs start moving again.

I run—yes, literally run—toward her heartbeat, now also feeling my chest constrict with fear that doesn’t seem to be my own.

I stumble into the forest, weaving through the trees seamlessly even though it’s dark. The only light illuminating my path every now and then are the fireworks exploding over the trees. And then I break through the underbrush into a clearing, and that’s when I see it.

Rowan, with his arm outstretched, using his telekinesis to pin Wednesday against the trunk of an old oak tree several feet above the ground.

He looks angry and very unlike the timid teenager I knew him to be, while Wednesday looks absolutely bewildered, although somehow still composed in the way only she can be.

For a second I freeze, only half registering that they’re arguing about something, but then her head snaps back and the tendons in her neck tighten as she gasps for breath. That’s when I dart forward at inhuman speed.

I snatch Rowan’s wrists with a bruising grip, feeling his surprise emanate from him before it turns to anger again and he scowls.

“Let her down,” I hiss through clenched teeth.

“You don’t understand,” he seethes, “If I don’t do this—”

He yelps in pain when I tighten my grip and twist his arm. “Let. Her. Down.”

I feel a familiar heat rising in my neck and up my face, and then I see a glimpse of my eyes flickering gold in the reflection of Rowan’s glasses.

His eyes widen, and I hear him set Wednesday down behind me. I let him go and he stumbles backward, pointing at me and stammering, “You’re—you’re—”

But he doesn’t get any further because out of nowhere there’s a roar, and then he’s lifted into the air with a piercing scream before being slammed down again.

The thump of his body hitting the forest floor makes my stomach churn, but then I take in the grotesque, over six-foot-tall bug-eyed monster that attacked him and my blood runs cold.

I back up blindly, stumbling slightly and feeling my knees weaken when Rowan screams as the monster starts slashing into him with its claws, until I feel a hand on my back.

It makes the pendant around my neck burst into gold light that is visible through my shirt, but I couldn't care less about that now with the horror unfolding right in front of my eyes.

Rowan’s screams turn into nauseating gurgling as he starts to choke on his own blood, until his body goes still and I feel the life drain out of him.

The monster snorts and snaps its head around, its oversized eyes landing on me and Wednesday for a second, almost calculating whether to attack or not, until it decides against it and vanishes into the darkness again.

The fireworks have stopped by now, leaving everything eerily quiet and dark, but my eyes have adjusted enough to see in the dark, to see Rowan’s body, limp and lifeless on the ground when he was just standing and alive mere moments ago.

The sight makes my hands tremble and I actually flinch when I feel Wednesday step out from behind me, brushing against my arm softly.

It snaps me out of my frozen state though, and I follow her wordlessly toward Rowan.

She crouches down, seemingly unfazed by the sight, but then I see the faintest twitch in her shoulders, as though she’s uncomfortable.

Her heartbeat is no longer as frantic as it was before, but it’s still faster than normal, yet it’s not what I focus on.

I can’t. Not after what just happened.

I heard the rumors about the monster, and while it creeped me out, I never in a million years thought I’d ever cross paths with it.

And I wouldn’t have, if I hadn’t followed Wednesday. But I wouldn’t have done a lot of things if it weren’t for her, so I shouldn’t be surprised at this point even though she’s been here for less than a week.

“We need to get help,” I finally manage to say around the lump in my throat.

For a moment, I don’t think Wednesday will say anything, but then she nods and gets up slowly.

“Are you... okay?” I ask quietly when she turns around, and I almost want to slap myself because of course she’s not. But then, in what I’m assuming is typical Wednesday Addams fashion, she just nods again, which makes me frown.

Not because she’s saying she’s okay—because I honestly should have seen that one coming—but because she’s so obviously not okay.

She seems unnerved for lack of a better word, but it’s not because of the literal murder we just witnessed.

No, there’s something else going on. I can feel it under her protective layer over her emotions, and I’m guessing it has something to do with why Rowan was attacking her in the first place.

I’m not one to pry though, because I evidently don’t like it when others do it with me, so I don’t ask about it.

We should also really be getting help, so I turn, ready to get away from here as quickly as possible as soon as I’m sure Wednesday is following me. But then she speaks up, which makes me stop and turn back to face her again.

“How did you know?” she asks, standing still with her arms hanging limply by her side, the tips of her fingers swallowed by the sleeves of her sweater jacket. Her eyes are on me, intense and unwavering, but for the first time, I see a flicker of vulnerability in them. It’s so brief, I think I might have imagined it, but I know I didn’t.

“Know what?” I ask, my voice shaking with the adrenaline still coursing through me.

“Where I was,” she clarifies steadily, although there is that flicker of curiosity in her eyes again that I saw last night after she threw her knife at me, and it makes my walls snap up immediately.

She’s still dangerous.

I have no idea why I followed her in the first place. It’s just like with the gargoyle and Lucas Walker’s goon all over again.

“I... saw you vanish with Rowan,” I say, hoping that that’s what happened, or close enough for her to not suspect the fact that I heard and followed her heartbeat.

She looks at me with her once-again unreadable expression, and for a moment I think she sees right through me. But then she just dips her chin in acknowledgment.

I spin around before she can ask anything else, adamant on getting some help now.

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Tag list: @sunshinez4 @protozoario @automaticpatroltragedy @mamas-evil-hag @theallseer97

[oddballwriter]

Just a Bite:

BBQ ENA &/X Vampire-inspired!reader

Summary: ENA with a Vampire-inspired entity!reader (platonic or romantic)

Warnings: Can be read as platonic or romantic if you want. Reader and ENA are referred to as friends but they can be “friends” if you want to go the romantic route. Cannibalism- Reader has to eat different forms of “life” it live and ENA lets her eat her limbs. Mentions that ENA lets reader eat her limbs so that reader will stay her friend. ENA being self- destructive to please people (reader) despite the fact that it’s implied that it causes her issues and impairments. Reader feeling bad and setting boundaries for ENA. I really don’t know how to describe this fucking shit. Just read it. It’s less weird, or maybe even more weird, idk it’s late as fuck and I got vampire brain worms. Let me know if I should tag anything. Cause I probably should.

Author’s Snip: I don’t know. I was possessed by my vampire brain worms and it’s hella late and I got morning classes tomorrow babes. These melatonin gummies got me just making shit. I’m either COOKING or I’m burning down the fucking kitchen. Either way bone apple teeth.

Notes: Idk reader discretion advised or whatever. Not too sure if this is a dead dove. Let me know if you want more of whatever this is.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Being a digital vampire was interesting. In simple words, you needed to consume other beings’ essence of life or something with it. Like source code or even a piece of their body if you can get a piece. Granted, no one wants the essences of their life to be eaten, but you gotta live too. It’s not really your fault that your code is unstable and need to parasite off of others or else you’ll crash and essentially die

It’s hard making friends though. Everyone always thinks that you’re trying to feed off them, but your need for more sustenance is never-ending and never satisfied. It’s a bit annoying but you don’t blame them. But that left you having to eat the source codes of mannequins, which weren’t all that rich in “the good stuff” as you put it.

It just sucks that people always think you know Dratula even though he’s not really a vampire no matter how hard he tries to sell it

You weren’t sure what called you towards ENA. Her two contrasting personalities that would go back and forth. The way she carried herself? The fact that everyone seemed to shun her too? She just seemed interesting to you.

Her salesperson side was very polite and almost flattering to you. Offering you an appealing sounding product and deal the was most likely just a prism scheme that was well worded. Her meanie side was more rude, but entertaining to you

You sort of just followed her around as she did ‘jobs’ and tried to find the genies of the doors or some other task that she needed to do. You don’t think she really knew what you were and just thought that people were trying to mess with her and also insulting you when they said that you were bad news. It wasn’t until she accidentally got someone killed (think Hoarder Alex) and you decided to have your fill with a loose limb while they were still “fresh”. That honestly freaked her out a bit. You think she actually buffered because the grin of her red side was wiped clean off with a face of pure shock. You feared that you had finally scared away someone you would have considered a friend, and maybe she did think of running for a second. But instead she just tried to go back to her normal self and sort of just avoid to subject, but her meanie side jumped in and just shouted “What the fuck was that?!”

You explained, sort of. Just the basics, you need to leech off of others to live.

All she asked was if you were going to do that to her, to which you said that you don’t want to nor plan to. She just said “Alright.” before she just went back to her salesperson side and continued on, beckoning for you to join in, grinning while saying “We can work over contracts and terms and conditions on a later date. We have more business to attend to.”

You had no clue what she meant by that and was a bit confused about how her Meanie said for the most part talked to you very… she wasn’t yelling or demanding answers. She just asked if you were going to or wanted to eat her source code in an way that seems like concern, confusion, and maybe a bit of intrigue

You both never talked about it again. She’d semi turn a blind eye when you’d take a bite out of a mannequin or something small and insignificant. She only ever asked “How often must this task be fulfilled? What is our quota?” (Asking how often you need to eat) You told her that you just try and get by until you need to feed from something again and that you just eat whatever you can get away with. She just responded with “hmm” and carried on

She’s seen you scrap for anything. A whole mannequin. A pet. One of Cain’s coins. A piece of Coral Glasses’ papers (it didn’t do anything, it was just paper). A leg you yanked out of the blood ocean and had to fight in order to get a proper bite. You tried to take a bite out of a blob person. That didn’t go too well… you didn’t like the taste. And each time ENA just… watched, almost like observing what counts as sustenance for you. Why? You didn’t really know until later.

You’ve seen her ‘die’ a few times and then return in the place of a mannequin. She comes back perfectly fine each time. She could lose her limbs and then she just gets them all back when she comes back around.

You thought about eating one of her limbs when she ‘dies’, but that was crossing a line for you. She was your friend. You don’t eat your friends. Even if she’d be such a good source of code to eat and would sustain you so well compared to all the scraps you eat. But you had to refrain

But one day, you’d gone so long with nothing. The hunger you had wanted something “good”, a real source, not scraps. You tried, you ate, and ate, and ate. You ate all the mannequins you could chase down but they did nothing. You were desperate. Wanting to eat anything and anyone. But you wouldn’t dare be bold enough to just go on a frenzy.

That’s when ENA popped off one of her arms and gave it to you. You heard her meanie side say something about eating it if you’re “that damn hungry” and you didn’t hesitate. You didn’t even realize that she gave you the other one and you ate that up too. It wasn’t until you snapped out of it and looked up seeing her armless that you realized what you’ve done. You apologized but she won’t take it. She just regenerates herself new ones when she dies and comes back and tells you to take whatever you want next time.

And you do

You feel bad though. Awful even.

Yeah, you’d take from random people when go had the chance, and ENA was willingly giving herself for you to eat, and she said that you can take a piece whenever you wanted. But it just felt wrong. Like you were taking advantage of her like everyone else does.

Except instead of taking advantage of the people pleasing part of her business side by giving her a task, you were literally taking parts of her that she wasn’t going to get back unless she came back through a mannequin and settling for using whatever she had left of her till then

Eventually you set a boundary for her despite her insisting that she’s happy to give you everything regardless of the price on her end, even calling it a “Great exchange for your loyal companionship.”. Which just made you feel bad since you’ve been around her long enough to know that it meant that she saw you taking as much as you wanted of her in exchange for you sticking around her.

Anyways. You settled on just taking one, ONE, of the fingers from her clawed hand. Always the middle, so that she can still hold her megaphone in that hand and avoid another incident she had once with a person that made her meanie side come out and a very specific finger. It was enough to sustain you between regenerations since ENA is a bit clumsy sometimes and has to come back quite a bit.

[honeydippedfiction]

How did Angel tell Joe they were having a baby? How did they tell their family and friends.

Let's just say telling everyone else went a lot more smoothly and planned than when she told Joe

Angel sat in the kitchen, the soft hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the otherwise quiet house. She stared at the pregnancy test sitting on the counter in front of her, the two lines glaring up at her like a bright, undeniable truth. She wasn’t sure why she was nervous—it was just Joe, after all. But this wasn’t just any piece of news. This was big. Life-changing. And somehow, despite the overwhelming joy bubbling up inside her, she found herself stalling.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to tell him—it was just... how?

She picked up the test, her thumb tracing the edges, wondering what the best way to break the news was. Her thoughts bounced from one idea to the next. Should she make a cute little dinner and slip it into his glass of wine? Too dramatic. Maybe write it on a cake? But the idea of him finding out from a slice of cake seemed too impersonal. Then it hit her.

She couldn’t even explain why this felt like the right idea, but it did.

She grabbed the remote, turned the TV on, and flipped through the channels until she landed on his favorite show—a random rerun of some sports documentary. She set the remote down, looked at the test one last time, and then slipped it carefully into his gym bag, tucked away under a folded sweatshirt. She wasn’t even sure he’d notice it right away.

He was due home any minute.

When she heard the front door click open, her heart jumped into her throat.

“Hey, babe!” Joe called out, his deep voice echoing through the hallway as he dropped his keys on the counter. “You here?”

“Yeah, in the kitchen!” she called back, trying to sound casual, though the nervousness was creeping into her voice.

Joe appeared in the doorway, his expression instantly softening as he saw her. He was still in his workout clothes, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead from the day’s practice. He looked exhausted, but his eyes lit up when he saw her. “Hey, you,” he said, grinning. “What’s up?”

She forced a smile, trying to ignore the anxious knot in her stomach. “Not much. Just waiting for you to come home so we could... talk.”

His grin faltered, the subtle shift in her tone catching his attention. “Talk about what?”

Angel shrugged, trying to play it off. “You know, nothing crazy... Just something I wanted to share with you.”

Joe cocked an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Sounds mysterious. You’re not planning on, like, surprising me with a huge trip to Europe or something, are you? Because I’m not sure I’m ready for that right now.”

She laughed, her nerves easing slightly. “No, nothing that big. Just something a little more... personal.”

He tilted his head, curious now, and walked over to the kitchen table. “Personal? You’re scaring me here.”

Angel couldn’t hold back the laugh that bubbled up. “I’m not trying to scare you, I swear. Just... give me a second.”

She walked over to the counter, grabbed his gym bag, and handed it to him. “I was cleaning out your stuff today, and I found something. You might want to check it out.”

Joe gave her a puzzled look, then shrugged, unzipping the bag. “Alright... what’s in here? Did I leave my headphones again?”

She could see his mind working as he pulled out a few socks, a couple of protein bars, and—finally—his sweatshirt. But then his hand brushed against something hard in the bottom of the bag. He paused, pulling the pregnancy test out with a confused frown. “Uh… what is this?”

He looked up at her, his brows furrowing. “Angel? This is…”

Her heart was in her throat now. “Yeah,” she said, her voice quieter. “It’s positive.”

Joe stood there, staring at the test, blinking as if the words weren’t quite sinking in. The silence stretched between them.

“You’re…” He paused again, as if trying to wrap his mind around what she was saying. “Wait, you’re telling me—”

“I’m pregnant, Joe.” The words were simple, but in that moment, they felt like the most profound thing she’d ever said.

Joe’s hands trembled slightly as he placed the test back down on the counter. He looked at her, then back at the test, then back to her again. His face, usually so composed, was now a mixture of surprise, disbelief, and—she could see it—pure joy creeping in.

He cleared his throat, trying to laugh it off like he hadn’t just had the wind knocked out of him. “Okay... okay, I did notsee that coming.”

Angel stepped closer to him, her heart thundering in her chest. “I didn’t either, honestly. But it’s real, Joe. We’re going to be parents.”

Joe looked at her like he was trying to make sense of the idea, his eyes wide, but his smile slowly spread across his face. “Wait, you’re really pregnant?” He repeated it again, as if saying it out loud would make it sink in. “You’re sure? I mean, not that I’m doubting, it’s just—”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Angel interrupted, laughing, a tear slipping down her cheek without her realizing. “It’s real.”

Joe didn’t say anything else for a moment. He just looked at her, and for a second, Angel thought maybe he was about to freak out, maybe run away or... something.

But then, his face broke into the most genuine, joyful grin she had ever seen. Slowly, he walked over to her, his hands shaking slightly. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. She buried her face in his chest, feeling the warmth of his embrace, feeling the weight of everything they were about to face together.

“Holy crap,” Joe whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “We’re gonna be parents... I’m gonna be a dad.”

She squeezed him tighter, her heart swelling with love. “Yeah, you are,” she whispered back. “And you’re going to be the best dad. I just know it.”

Joe pulled back slightly, his hands on her shoulders, looking down at her like she was the most incredible thing in the world. “I’m so glad it’s you,” he said quietly, his voice full of wonder. “We’re gonna figure this out together, right?”

“Together,” Angel repeated softly, a tear slipping down her cheek.

Joe wiped it away gently, his smile never fading. “I don’t care what happens next. As long as it’s with you.”

And in that quiet moment, the world outside didn’t matter. They were just two people, standing in the middle of their kitchen, on the cusp of something that would change everything. Together.

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It was a chilly Saturday afternoon when Joe and Angel decided to share their big news with his parents, Robin and Jimmy. They had driven up just for the weekend, and this felt like the perfect time to tell them—together, but in their own special way. The plan was simple: surprise them with a new pair of jerseys that would make them think they were just receiving yet another set of Bengals gear, a common gift for Joe’s family.

Angel had picked out two matching Cincinnati Bengals jerseys—perfect for Robin and Jimmy. But these weren’t just any jerseys. Instead of “Burrow” on the back, they read “Grandpa” and “Grandma”, respectively.

She couldn’t help but grin at the idea of their reactions. It would be a fun surprise, and just the right kind of playful chaos they both loved. After all, Joe and Angel’s relationship was built on spontaneity and humor, so why would telling his parents about the baby be any different?

The moment finally arrived. The four of them stood in the living room of Joe and Angel’s house, the jerseys folded neatly in their hands. Jimmy and Robin looked excited as ever, thinking they were about to pose for a normal photo op. They stood next to Joe and Angel, grinning ear to ear.

"Okay, everyone ready for this?" Angel asked, holding up her phone, ready to snap a picture.

Jimmy, as always, was the first one to strike a pose. "Let’s go, Burrow family!" he said with his classic enthusiasm, already pulling on the jersey like it was just another game day.

Joe smirked, stepping back slightly as he put on his own jersey, looking at Robin and Jimmy. "I think these are gonna look good on you two."

Robin laughed, taking the jersey from Angel. “You know we love our Bengals. This is gonna be perfect for tailgate season.” She slipped it over her head, beaming with pride, not yet noticing the surprise printed on the back.

“Alright, let’s get a good one,” Joe said, positioning everyone for the picture.

Angel adjusted her phone, making sure the lighting was perfect, and then, with a wicked grin, she said, “Okay, now everyone say... ‘Pregnant!’”

There was a pause—a beat of confusion. Robin and Jimmy both tilted their heads, still holding their jerseys proudly, completely oblivious to what was happening.

“Pregnant?” Robin repeated, looking at Angel with a furrowed brow. “What do you mean—?”

But before she could finish her sentence, Angel and Joe’s grins got even wider. The moment clicked, and then, as if in slow motion, Robin’s eyes dropped to the back of her jersey. She saw the word Grandma in bold letters, right above her own last name.

Her breath caught in her throat.

“No... no way,” she whispered, blinking rapidly, her hands slowly lowering the jersey as the realization hit her. She looked at Jimmy in complete shock. “What did she just say?”

Jimmy’s gaze went from Robin to the back of his own jersey. Grandpa. His jaw dropped, his face turning from confusion to utter shock. "Hold on..." His eyes flicked between the jerseys, then up to Joe and Angel, who were standing there, practically glowing with excitement. "You—you’re...?"

Angel couldn’t contain her laughter. “We’re having a baby.”

For a split second, the entire room fell silent as Robin and Jimmy processed what was happening. Then, as if on cue, the gasps started, followed by a collective shout of joy.

“Oh my god!” Robin exclaimed, suddenly pulling both Joe and Angel into a tight hug. "You’re having a baby? This is real?"

Jimmy, still trying to process, let out a breathless laugh. “You’ve got to be kidding me! A baby? I’m going to be a grandpa?”

Angel nodded, laughing at their shock. “It’s true! We wanted to surprise you with something special.”

Jimmy’s eyes shone with excitement as he hugged Angel tightly. “You’re going to be an amazing mom, Angel. And you, Joe—you’re going to be one heck of a dad.”

Robin was still clutching Joe, a few tears in her eyes. “This is the best news ever. We’re going to spoil this baby so much! And Grandma? I’ve got a lot of practice ahead of me, huh?”

Joe laughed, his eyes glistening. “You better believe it. We’re so excited to have you both on this journey with us.”

Robin finally pulled back, still laughing, and turned to Jimmy, holding up the jerseys. “Well, I guess these will be our official game day jerseys now, huh?” she said, grinning.

“Absolutely,” Joe replied with a wink. “You two are officially part of the team.”

The laughter and hugs continued, the energy in the room electric as they all began to process just how much their lives were about to change. Robin and Jimmy couldn’t stop grinning, showing off their new jerseys to the camera like they had just won the Super Bowl.

“Guess I need to get used to this ‘Grandma’ thing, huh?” Robin said, still in disbelief. “And you, Joe, you better make sure you’re ready for this responsibility!”

Joe just smiled, looking at Angel with that familiar, cocky grin. “I think we’re as ready as we can be.”

And as the picture was finally taken, with Robin and Jimmy proudly holding their jerseys—Grandma and Grandpa—Joe and Angel shared a moment of perfect chaos and joy, knowing that this was only the beginning.

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It had been a few weeks since Joe and Angel had shared the big news with his parents, and now it was time to tell Angel’s side of the family. With Angel's parents' anniversary coming up, Joe and Angel decided to make the trip even more special by flying them to Cincinnati. The timing was perfect—Joe had some free days before the beginning of OTAs, and they wanted to do something meaningful to celebrate Angel's parents and, of course, share the exciting news.

Angel’s parents had always been incredibly supportive, and the idea of telling them in person was something Angel had been eagerly waiting for. Since they were already making the trip for their anniversary, Joe and Angel had carefully planned out the evening. A fancy dinner at one of their favorite spots in the city, followed by a surprise reveal that would take their breath away.

When Angel’s parents arrived, they were absolutely thrilled to be in Cincinnati for their anniversary. It was a big treat for them to be able to spend some quality time with their daughter and her boyfriend—who was now, of course, more like family. They were warmly welcomed with hugs and big smiles, and the couple treated them to a wonderful dinner at a charming little bistro, all decked out in anniversary decorations, to celebrate their many years of love and togetherness.

They ate, laughed, and talked about the memories they’d made over the years. The evening had been perfect, and they had a blast hearing about the little moments of Joe and Angel’s life together in Cincinnati. But Angel had one more surprise up her sleeve for the night.

After dinner, they all returned to the house, and Angel and Joe led them to the living room where they’d set up a little gift exchange. The table was neatly arranged with wrapped gifts—two for Angel’s parents, each one carefully chosen with a hint of fun and a big dose of love.

Angel's mom, Linda, was the first to sit down, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "What’s all this?" she asked, the warm glow of the dinner still lighting up her face.

“We wanted to give you both a little something for your anniversary," Angel said, holding out the first gift. "This one’s for you, Mom.”

Linda smiled as she unwrapped the gift—a beautifully scented candle, one of Angel’s mom’s favorites. She gasped when she saw the label on the jar.

"Smells like you're going to be a grandma."

For a moment, there was stunned silence. Linda slowly looked at Angel, then at Joe, her mouth opening in shock. “What did... What does this mean?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Angel and Joe were both grinning ear to ear, and Joe couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched her reaction. “It means we’ve got some exciting news, Mom,” Angel said, her voice warm with affection. “We’re having a baby. You’re going to be a grandma!”

Linda’s eyes went wide, her hands shaking slightly as she turned the candle jar over, reading it again as if it would somehow make more sense. Then, the tears came—slowly at first, then with full force. “I’m going to be a grandma?” she asked in disbelief, her voice cracking with emotion.

She rushed over to Angel, pulling her into a tight hug. “Oh my God, I can’t believe this! I’m so happy, I’m going to be a grandma!” she repeated, her voice full of joy and wonder.

Joe stepped in, giving Linda a big hug. “You’re going to be the best grandma, we just know it.”

Meanwhile, Angel’s dad, Tom, was already eyeing his gift with curiosity. "Alright, now what’s this for me?" he asked, grinning. He was always the jokester of the family, and Angel knew he’d love the playful nature of his gift.

Joe handed him a wrapped box, and with a wink, Angel said, “Here you go, Dad. Hope this fits your new title.”

Tom eagerly tore open the paper, and when he saw what was inside—a new grill apron—his face lit up. It was black, with a large “Grill Master” logo on it, but the real kicker was the additional wording at the bottom: "Promoted to Grandpa."

For a few seconds, Tom was silent. He looked at the apron, then at Joe and Angel, and then back at the apron again, his face blank with surprise. Then, as the realization hit, he burst out laughing, holding it up to his chest.

“Grandpa?” he repeated, his voice full of awe, though the excitement was unmistakable. "I’m grill master and grandpa now? This is wild! And amazing!”

He pulled Angel into a tight hug, spinning her around slightly. “You’re making me a grandpa?! Oh, this is going to be so fun. I can’t wait to teach this kid all my grill secrets.”

Linda, still wiping her tears, walked over to Tom, chuckling as she put her hand on his shoulder. “Looks like we’ve got a whole new chapter ahead of us,” she said, her voice warm with joy. “We’re going to spoil that baby rotten.”

Angel grinned, looking from her mom to her dad. "We’re so excited for you to be a part of this. We can’t wait for you to meet our little one."

Tom gave a mock sigh, “I’m already planning the first barbecue. You think I’m getting the hang of ‘Grandpa’?” he asked, winking at Joe.

Angel laughed, shaking her head. “Dad, you’ve got plenty of time to work on it.”

After a long, emotional hug, everyone sat down, and the conversation shifted to all the plans and dreams they had for the future. Linda and Tom couldn’t stop smiling, basking in the joy of being on the receiving end of such a precious announcement.

“We’re so proud of you two,” Linda said, holding the candle close to her chest as she beamed. “This is the best gift we could have ever gotten.”

Angel’s heart swelled with love. There was nothing like seeing the faces of the people she loved the most, reacting with pure joy at the news that was going to change all their lives forever.

And as the evening wound down, with laughter and excited chatter filling the room, Joe and Angel couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky. They were surrounded by family, love, and a whole new chapter of their lives that had only just begun.

◦•●◉✿✿◉●•◦●∘◦❀◦∘●◦•●◉✿✿◉●•◦●∘◦❀◦∘●

​​The plan for revealing the big news to their friends had to be perfect. Joe and Angel had always enjoyed game nights with their close friends, so what better way to break the news than during one of their usual hangouts? This time, however, they had a little twist in mind. A simple game of Uno, but with a surprise waiting to be uncovered by one of their unsuspecting friends.

They had custom-designed a special Uno card to give the ultimate reveal—a card that was playful, unexpected, and full of chaos, just like their personalities. On one side, it simply read, “New player entering the game,” with a cartoon baby face on it. On the other side, “Adding a new player to the team,” with a baby onesie that had “Coming 2024” printed on it.

The night started like any other game night, with everyone gathered around the table, drinks in hand and laughter filling the air. Sam Hubbard’, was making jokes about how competitive Joe could be, and Ja'Marr was already teasing Joe about how he never seemed to lose at Uno, always playing the perfect cards.

Angel and Joe exchanged a look across the table, both of them barely able to hold back their excitement. They'd spent the last couple of hours keeping it all under wraps, enjoying the normalcy of the evening, but now it was time.

The cards were shuffled and dealt, and everyone was settling into the game, casually playing their hands, chatting, and throwing in a little smack talk here and there. As the game unfolded, they felt the energy in the room shift slightly—the anticipation mounting as they neared the moment when one of their friends would unknowingly pull the revealing card.

It wasn’t long before Ja'Marr, always the confident and carefree player, picked up his card and, without a second thought, slammed it down onto the table.

“Wild card! I’ll change the color to red,” Ja'Marr said, not even looking at the card properly, thinking it was just a typical Uno wild card. The group nodded, some of them grumbling about how he was always so fast with his plays.

But then, Jess, Sam Hubbard's fiancee, who was sitting next to him, leaned over to look at the card in confusion. Her eyebrows furrowed as she read the words written on the back, and her eyes went wide.

"Wait... hold on," she said, her voice suddenly sharper than usual. She looked down at the card again, then at everyone at the table, her hand trembling slightly as she pointed at the card in Ja'Marr’s hand. “This isn’t a wild card.”

The room froze. Jess’s gasp drew every eye in the room, and for a moment, no one moved, unsure of what had just happened.

“What? What’s wrong?” Sam asked, squinting at the card.

Angel and Joe exchanged a quick, knowing glance, trying to suppress their grins. They’d been waiting for this moment for what felt like forever.

Jess blinked in disbelief and then read the text aloud. “'Adding a new player to the team’... with a baby onesie?” Her voice wavered as she turned the card around, revealing the cartoon baby face, and then she read the back out loud. “Coming 2024.”

Silence. The group was frozen for a heartbeat before chaos erupted.

“Wait, hold up—what?” Ja'Marr said, staring at the card, his expression quickly morphing from confusion to shock. He turned to Joe and Angel, eyes wide. “Is this... is this a joke?”

Jess was already jumping up from her seat, hand over her mouth. "Are you serious?! You two are—you're having a baby?!"

Angel’s grin finally broke free as she nodded, unable to contain her excitement. “Yeah! We’re having a baby. We thought this would be a fun way to tell you all.”

The whole room exploded into cheers and laughter. Tee's eyes were wide in disbelief. “What?! Joe, you’re gonna be a dad?” He slapped Joe on the back, shaking his head in amazement. “I don’t even know how to process this. This is insane!”

Ja'Marr let out a loud laugh, standing up and pointing at Joe. “Man, I’m gonna have to teach this kid how to ball when they’re old enough!” He pulled Joe into a tight hug, making everyone laugh even harder. “But seriously, this is amazing! Congratulations!”

It was like a floodgate of joy had opened. Everyone was up from their seats, hugging, laughing, and throwing playful jabs at Joe about his soon-to-be role as a dad.

Jess, still in a bit of shock, turned to Angel and wrapped her arms around her. “This is the best news ever. You guys are going to be the best parents. I’m so happy for you two!”

The whole table was buzzing with excitement as they each took turns hugging Angel and Joe. “A baby?! Man, we need to throw a party!” Sam exclaimed, already planning ahead. “You know I’m gonna spoil this kid, right?”

Angel laughed, shaking her head. “We might need a few extra hands on deck for that, Sam. You know how this group gets.”

As the excitement started to die down a bit, everyone returned to the game, but the energy in the room had shifted to something even more electric. They were all buzzing with excitement, throwing out congratulations, asking questions, and joking about what kind of uncle or aunt they were going to be. And, of course, they couldn’t help but joke about how the baby would probably be better at Uno than any of them, considering the way Joe always managed to win.

The night continued with laughter, playful teasing, and plenty of “pregnancy advice” from the group—though Angel and Joe were more than happy to let their friends have fun with it. And as they wrapped up the evening, the feeling of love and excitement filled the room, knowing that this group of friends was now part of a new chapter in their lives.

“Thanks, everyone,” Angel said, her voice full of gratitude. “We’re so glad we could share this moment with all of you. Can’t wait for you to meet the little one!”

As the night came to an end, everyone was still smiling, knowing that this was just the beginning of a brand-new adventure. And one thing was certain—they were going to be there for Angel and Joe every step of the way, supporting them as they prepared to welcome their little one into the world.

[marimayscarlett]

WHAT does Richard mean the house will always be there 😭 that sounds like you're leavung us in the rain with nothing but memories and merch 😭😭😭 I need Rammstein like I need oxygen and your out here being all poetic and mysterious 😭 this is NOT OKAY it's unfair to us fans we're literally starving out here 🫠 give us a date give us hope give us SOMETHING

Hi 👋🏻

I received several anons regarding this matter. This one is one of the nicer ones, at least.

First up, I do understand that some of Richard's statements can have a disheartening effect on people. I dare say that for all of us in this fandom, Rammstein plays a considerable role in our lives and brings us a lot of joy. And of course, seeing them live in concert, hearing and feeling the music, getting new albums—new stuff in general... it's exciting, and I myself am filled with happiness to the brim in moments like these. So yes, I do understand the sentiment. 🫂

Yet I find it fascinating how points of view can differ. Allow me to go through your message with my opinion on things (at least I think you expect me to, as it landed in my inbox):

1. I think Richard meant, by his very warmhearted house metaphor, exactly what it was meant to convey—that Rammstein will always be there, through their legacy and the music they created. Rammstein will also always be there for the band members, so to speak—they are eternally connected to each other through their shared history.

2. "With nothing but memories and merch": Well... this is the purpose of a band: to bring us music, unforgettable moments, and merch to express our love for them. And there’s plenty of each—so saying “nothing but” doesn’t seem very fitting in my eyes.

3. "This is NOT OKAY, this is unfair to us fans": Is it, though? I mean—in the last six years, they gave us two new albums and four tour legs. I have to bring a bit of perspective into the game here: that’s quite a lot. To think that most of them are in their late 50s/early 60s, have been together for 30 years without a single lineup change, and have proven time and time again—through their music, videos, and tours—how well they work together, what brilliant minds they are, and how much they pour their heart and soul into their work...

I just looked it up: last year, they played 35 concerts in 17 different cities with a mind-blowing show. That’s quite something, in my eyes. And well, now they can look back on their work and be proud of it.

I’m really trying to stay sympathetic here, and yet your tone strikes me as a tad entitled. I much prefer the openness and honesty Richard displayed in this interview (which truly showed how much he has grown over the decades) to the band dragging themselves on stage for the next 20 years.

Let’s not forget—Rammstein was never intended to be “eternal,” so to say. Schneider mentioned in the ’90s that he planned to return to opera at age 40, and Paul and Till both said something along the lines of not wanting to perform past 50 or 60—which they’ve both exceeded.

Maybe I’m a bit alone here, but... was this really so out of the realm of possibility for some people? That someday it would slow down and inevitably come to a calm end for this band? Surely, it’s sad—as if it were possible, I would love for them to perform and release new music for decades to come. But they were, and still are, here after 30 years of giving their fans their all.

And I think that’s admirable.

[winchesterwild78]

Soldier Boy’s Homecoming

Master List

Characters: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: Just pure filth. SMUT, Language, Porn without much plot. 

A/N: Sorry not sorry. I’m absolutely freaking FERAL! The recent con photos of Jensen are to blame. 

This story is nothing but pure SMUT. Please enjoy. 

I don’t own the rights to Soldier Boys character but all work is my own. Please feel free to share and like. Comments and suggestions are appreciated. 

*written fast and not edited. Please overlook any errors.*

Minors DNI 18+

“Welcome home Ben. I missed you.” I whispered into his ear as he took me in his arms in the bed. 

Ben looked up from where his face was buried in my hair, eyes widening at the sound of my voice. His heart leapt in his chest, pounding against his ribs like a drum.

"You're... awake?" He asked softly, voice rough from disuse. It had been so long since he'd spoken, the words foreign on his tongue.

I turned in his arms to face him, green eyes shining in the moonlight that filtered through the curtains. They were just as beautiful as I remembered, soft features and full lips curled into a warm smile.

"I missed you too," he whispered, as I reached up to cup his cheek. My thumb brushed over his cheekbone, tracing the sharp line of it.

Ben leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. The simple gesture felt like coming home, like everything he'd been searching for in the darkness.

He turned his head to press a kiss to my palm, lips brushing over the smooth skin. "I thought I'd lost you," he admitted quietly, voice barely above a whisper.

My brows furrowed, concern etched into my features. "How could you lose me when you were the one who left?" I asked, but there was no accusation in my tone. Only a gentle curiosity.

Ben sighed, leaning his forehead against mine. "I didn't leave by choice," he murmured, the words heavy on his tongue.

He knew he couldn't tell me the truth, not yet. Not until he had a plan, until he knew for certain that he wouldn't be ripped away from me again.

Instead, he caught my lips with his own, kissing me deeply. It started out slow, a soft brush of lips against lips, before it turned hungry and desperate.

He poured every ounce of longing and love into that kiss, every moment he'd spent dreaming of me, of holding me, of loving me.

His hands roamed on my back, pulling me flush against him until there wasn't an inch of space between our bodies. He could feel every curve and dip, every breath I took.

“Meet me at the hotel on Main in 15 minutes. I’ll check in under Sandra Dee.”

Ben pulled back from the kiss, chest heaving with ragged breaths. He searched my eyes, trying to gauge my expression in the dim light.

"Sandra Dee?" He repeated, brow quirked in amusement. "Really? I know I've been gone for a while, but I didn't think you'd resorted to using fake names."

I playfully rolled my eyes, a smirk playing on my lips. "It's not a fake name, ass. It's a pseudonym. And I'll have you know, I've used it quite a few times since you've been gone."

Ben chuckled, the sound rusty in his ears. "Alright, alright. I won't question your choices."

He glanced at the clock on the bedside table, seeing the glowing red numbers blur before his tired eyes. "15 minutes though? You're giving me a 15 minute head start?"

I shrugged one shoulder, a coy smile on my face. "Think you can make it in time, Soldier Boy?" I teased, using the old nickname like a weapon.

Ben grinned, a wicked glint in his eye. "Oh, I'll make it in time," he promised, voice low and dripping with unspoken desire. "But I can't guarantee I'll be able to control myself once I get there."

With that, he rolled out of bed and snatched up the bloody clothes he'd worn earlier. He knew he couldn't go to the hotel looking like a murderer.

"15 minutes," he repeated as he started to leave the room. "Don't keep me waiting."

And with that, he disappeared out the door and down the stairs, a man on a mission to get to his lover.

I grabbed my stuff and headed towards the hotel. Nervously waiting but filled with anticipation. God I missed him. I couldn’t wait to be in his arms again.

Ben stepped into the dimly lit lobby of the hotel on Main, the old carpet beneath his feet worn and stained. The air was thick with the scent of cigarettes and stale coffee, a far cry from the sterile halls of the Russian lab.

He approached the front desk, the bored looking clerk barely glancing up from her magazine as he leaned against the counter. "Sandra Dee," he said, voice low and gruff. "I have a reservation."

The clerk flipped through the pages of the registry, her nail polish chipped and cracked. "Ah, yes. Here it is." She handed him a key on a tarnished brass keychain. "Room 203. Second floor, down the hall to the left."

Ben snatched the key, the metal cool against his palm. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest

I waited. My skin was on fire with anticipation and goosebumps. Then I heard the door open. Soldier Boy standing there looking like a Greek God. My thighs clenched together and my breath hitched. His eyes raked over my body. I was wearing the dark green lingerie he bought me before he left.

Ben stepped into the room, the door clicking shut behind him with a sense of finality. His eyes immediately found me, drinking in the sight of me like a man dying of thirst.

I was a vision, standing by the window in the dim light spilling in from the streetlamps outside. The dark green lingerie hugged my curves, the soft fabric clinging to my full breasts and hips in a way that made Ben's mouth go dry.

His eyes raked over my body again, taking in every inch of exposed skin, every dip and swell that he remembered so well. It was like coming home, like seeing a piece of his soul standing before him.

"God, you're beautiful," he breathed, the words falling from his lips before he could stop them. He took a step closer, then another, until he was standing in front of me, close enough to feel the heat radiating off my skin.

His hand came up to cup my cheek, thumb brushing over the soft skin there. He leaned in, resting his forehead against mine, and let out a shuddering breath.

"I missed you," he whispered, voice rough with emotion. "I missed you so fucking much."

“I missed you too. I’ve missed your lips, your hands, your body and your cock.”

Ben's heart raced at my words, a wave of lust and longing crashing over him. He could feel his cock twitching in his pants, already hardening at the thought of touching me again.

"Fuck, Y/N," he growled, voice low and heavy with desire. "You have no idea how much I've missed you too. Missed every fucking inch of you."

His hands slid down to my waist, gripping my hips tightly. He pulled me flush against him, letting me feel the hard length of his cock pressing against my stomach.

"I've dreamed about this," he murmured, nuzzling into my neck. "Dreams of holding you, tasting you, fucking you until you scream my name."

He nipped at my throat, teeth grazing over my pulse point. His hands slid down to grab my ass, squeezing the firm globes and pulling me even harder against him.

"I want to worship every inch of you," he breathed, hot breath fanning over my ear. "Want to taste your skin, your lips, your cunt. Want to make you come on my tongue until you forget your own fucking name."

He rocked his hips against mine, the friction delicious even through our clothes. "Tell me you want it too," he demanded, voice rough and needy. "Tell me you need my cock as much as I need to be buried inside you."

“I want it. I need your cock buried inside me. Please make me cum Soldier Boy!”

Ben groaned at my desperate plea, his cock throbbing and straining against the confines of his pants. He couldn't hold back any longer. With a growl, he swept me up into his strong arms and carried me to the bed, laying me down on the worn but clean sheets.

"I'm going to make you cum so hard, baby," he promised darkly, his voice a low rumble. "Gonna worship this sexy fucking body until you're dripping and begging for my cock."

He started at my neck, his lips and tongue and teeth working over my sensitive skin. He licked and sucked and bit, marking me, claiming me as his.

His hands roamed my body, sliding under the thin fabric of the lingerie to cup and squeeze and tease. He rolled my nipples between his fingers until they were stiff peaks, until I was arching into his touch with needy little whimpers.

"Fuck, I love these tits," he groaned, ducking his head to take one into his mouth. He sucked hard, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud, before grazing it with his teeth.

I cried out, hands fisting in his short brown hair, holding him to me. "Oh god, yes! Don't stop!"

Ben chuckled darkly around my breast, the vibrations sending shivers through my body. He moved to the other breast, giving it the same treatment until I was writhing beneath him, thighs rubbing together with desperate need.

He kissed down my body, tongue dipping into my navel before he was kneeling between my spread thighs. He looked up at me from under his lashes, green eyes dark with lust.

"Keep these thighs spread for me, baby," he ordered, hands gripping my inner thighs. "Keep this sweet cunt open and ready for my tongue and my cock."

And with that, he leaned in and dragged his tongue along my cloth-covered slit, groaning at the damp fabric, feeling the heat of my core even through the thin lingerie. He could smell my arousal, the musky scent of my heat. 

“Oh fuck Soldier Boy! Please!”

Ben could feel my need, hear it in the desperate plea that fell from my lips. It spurred him on, urged him to give me what I craved.

"Please what, baby?" he growled, voice vibrating against my cloth-covered sex. "Tell me what you need. Beg for it."

He punctuated his words with a firm press of his tongue against my clothed clit, the rough muscle circling the sensitive nub. He could feel the damp patch growing, the fabric molding to my shape.

I whimpered, hips bucking up against his face. "Please, I... I need your mouth on me. I need you to eat my pussy until I scream!"

Ben grinned wickedly, pleased with my desperation. "Good girl," he purred. "I'm going to devour this sweet cunt until you're shaking and begging for my cock."

With that, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of my panties and yanked them down, tossing them aside. And then his mouth was on me, hot and hungry and insatiable.

He licked a hot stripe up my slit, groaning at the taste of me, the feel of my slick folds against his tongue. He delved deep, tongue plunging into my tight channel, fucking me with the slick muscle.

I cried out, back arching off the bed, hands fisting in his hair. "Oh god, yes! Just like that! Don't stop!"

Ben growled against my sex, the sound rumbling through my core. He lapped at my juices, drinking down the arousal like a man dying of thirst. His hands gripped my ass, pulling me harder against his mouth, grinding my dripping pussy against his face.

He zeroed in on my clit, sucking the sensitive bud into his mouth, tongue flicking over it rapidly. He could feel me tensing, my thighs trembling around his head. He knew I was close.

"Cum for me, baby," he commanded, voice rough against my sex. "Cum all over my fucking face. I want to taste it, want to feel it dripping down my chin."

And with that, he redoubled his efforts, tongue and lips and teeth all working in tandem to bring me to the edge. He could feel my body tightening, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

Ben felt my body tense, my thighs clamping around his head as my orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave. He didn't let up, continuing to suckle and lick at my clit, pushing me through it, drawing out my pleasure.

As my climax hit, I let out a scream of ecstasy, my body convulsing, back arching sharply off the bed. And then, just as Ben had hoped, my release gushed out of me, my juices flooding his mouth and dripping down his chin.

He groaned in satisfaction, lapping up every drop, swallowing my essence greedily. He could feel my walls fluttering around his tongue, my honey flowing freely.

"That's it, baby," he praised, voice muffled against my pussy. "Come all over my face, just like that. Fucking soak me."

He continued to stroke my clit with the flat of his tongue, helping to prolong my high, until my body went limp and boneless against the mattress. Only then did he pull back, licking his lips with a wicked grin.

He crawled up my body, hovering over me, letting me see the mess I’d made of his face. "Look at you, so fucking sexy when you come undone," he murmured, voice rough and heavy with lust.

His cock was straining against his pants, a tent clearly visible. He rocked his hips against mine, letting me feel how hard he was, how much he needed me.

"I'm going to fuck you now," he promised darkly. "Gonna sink my cock deep into this tight little cunt and make you scream all over again."

He reached down to undo his belt, the metal clanking loudly in the quiet room. "Are you ready for it, baby? Ready to be split open on my thick cock?"

“Yes! Fuck me Soldier Boy!”

Ben didn't need to be told twice. With a feral growl, he shoved his pants and underwear down, freeing his massive, throbbing cock. It slapped against his stomach, leaving a smear of precum on his abs.

My eyes widened at the sight, a fresh gush of arousal flooding my core. I was still sensitive from my intense orgasm, but the thought of being filled by Soldier Boy's huge cock only heightened my desire.

He settled between my spread thighs, the thick head of his dick nudging against my entrance. I whimpered, trying to rock my hips to take him inside, but Ben held my hips still.

"Not yet, greedy girl," he teased, voice a low rumble. "I'm going to take you when I'm ready."

He rolled his hips, the underside of his cock sliding along my slit, coating itself in my slick arousal. I shuddered, head thrown back against the pillow, eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

"Please, Soldier Boy," I begged, voice breathless and needy. "I need your cock so badly. I'm so empty..."

Ben shuddered, feeling the same desperation. He needed to be inside me, needed to claim me, to make me his again. With a final, deep breath, he thrust forward, the broad head of his cock popping past my entrance and sinking into my tight heat.

I cried out, a sharp gasp of pleasure that turned into a low moan as Ben pushed forward, inch after thick inch of his cock disappearing inside my clutching sex. He didn't stop until he was fully sheathed, his heavy balls nestling against my ass.

"Fuck, you're so fucking tight," Ben groaned, head dropping to my shoulder as he fought the urge to come right then and there. "So fucking perfect."

He paused for a moment, letting me adjust to the size of him, before he started to move. He pulled out slowly, until just the tip remained inside me, before slamming back in with a force that shook the bed.

"Yes!" I screamed, fingers digging into Ben's back, nails leaving red crescents in his skin. "Harder!"

Ben grinned, a feral, wolfish smile that made my heart race. He started to pound into me, hips slapping against mine with each powerful thrust. 

“Oh fuck! Yes Ben!”

Ben could feel my pussy clenching around him, my walls fluttering and gripping his pistoning cock like a velvet vise. He groaned, the sound rumbling through his chest as he pistoned his hips faster, driving into my welcoming heat with increasing force.

"That's it, baby," he growled, voice rough and heavy with lust. "Take my cock. Fucking take it!"

He hooked my knees over his elbows, nearly bending me in half as he loomed over me. The new angle allowed him to drive even deeper, the head of his cock kissing my cervix with each powerful thrust.

I could only moan and gasp, my voice rising in pitch as my pleasure mounted. I could feel every ridge and vein of Ben's thick shaft as it stretched me wide, filling me so completely.

"Harder!" I begged, hands fisting in the sheets beneath me. "Fuck me harder, Soldier Boy! Ruin my pussy!"

Ben snarled, a dark, dangerous sound that sent a thrill of fear and excitement down my spine. He complied with my demand, slamming into me with enough force to rock the headboard against the wall.

The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with their wanton moans and cries. Ben could feel my body tensing, my walls starting to ripple around his cock. 

Ben could feel my body starting to tremble, my walls clamping down around his pistoning cock like a silken vice. He knew I was close, could hear it in the desperate pitch of my moans and the way my nails raked down his back.

"That's it, baby," he growled, voice tight with his own impending release. "Come on my cock. Fucking soak it!"

He reached between their sweat-slicked bodies, his calloused fingers finding my sensitive clit. He rubbed the swollen nub in tight, rough circles, pushing me closer to the edge.

I let out a high, keening cry, my back arching off the bed as my orgasm crashed over me. My pussy clamped down around Ben's cock, the muscles fluttering and rippling as I came hard.

The sensation was too much for Ben to withstand. With a hoarse shout, he slammed into me one last time, burying himself to the hilt as his own release overtook him. His cock jerked and throbbed as he emptied himself inside me, painting my walls with thick ropes of his hot seed.

"Fuck, Y/N!" he roared, head thrown back in ecstasy as he filled me with his come. "Take it, fucking take it all!"

I could only moan weakly, my body going limp beneath him as I felt the warmth of his release flooding my core. I could feel it sloshing inside me, the sheer volume of it making my belly bloat slightly.

Ben collapsed on top of me, careful not to crush me with his weight. He panted harshly, his chest heaving against mine as we both struggled to catch our breath.

"That was... fuck, that was incredible," he murmured, voice rough and sated. He lifted his head to look at me, green eyes soft with adoration and lust. "I love you, Y/N. I fucking love you so much."

I could only smile up at him, reaching up to cup his cheek. "I love you too, Soldier Boy," I whispered. "Welcome home."

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[panerasbox]

—TALK TOO MUCH; 10 Days To Go

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x fem!Reader.

Genre: light smut (dryhumping, thighgrinding)

Word count: 1,200.

summary: You’re ranting. Melissa’s done listening. She shuts you up—with her mouth.

30 DAYS OF MELISSA SCHEMMENTI MASTERLIST

You’re pacing the length of Melissa’s classroom like you’ve had 4 cups of coffee—and you probably have.

“…and then Ava tells me the science lab budget went to a smoke machine for the talent show, so now we’re doing the volcano experiment with baking soda and vibes, and I’m just saying, this is why—”

Melissa’s watching you with that amused, long-suffering expression she’s perfected over a lifetime of listening to nonsense. Except this time, the nonsense is coming from you. And she doesn’t mind. Not really.

But she does wish you’d shut up long enough to let her do something about the way your mouth moves when you’re worked up.

“Sweetheart,” she interjects calmly, sipping her coffee.

You keep going.

“I mean, who even signs off on this stuff? You know how long it takes to get reimbursed for anything? I’m about to start charging the school interest. Or, like, emotional damages. Whichever one gets me enough for new glue sticks.”

Melissa’s eyes trail from your lips to the curve of your neck, and she leans back in her chair, letting your voice wash over her. Half listening. Half planning

“You know,” she says, her voice a low hum, “there are easier ways to get my attention.”

“I’m not trying to get your attention,” you argue, still pacing, hands flailing. “I’m trying to prevent a complete meltdown of the educational system—again. And Ava’s out here pretending to be a pop star with a fog machine while the rest of us are drowning in permission slips and expired Expo markers!”

She hums again, sounding impressed, though the glint in her eyes says otherwise. “You finished?”

You pause, blinking. “Uh, no? I still haven’t even gotten to the part where the copier jammed and Jacob tried to fix it with a ‘positive affirmation.’”

Melissa stands.

She doesn’t say anything. Just crosses the room slowly, deliberately, like a lion deciding whether to pounce. She stops right in front of you, just close enough to make your heart stutter.

Her voice drops to that low, dangerous register you’ve only heard when she’s really had it with someone—or when she’s flirting like it’s a full-contact sport.

“You talk too much, hon.”

You open your mouth to reply—some combination of excuse me? and rude!—but you never get it out.

Because Melissa Schemmenti kisses you like she’s been waiting for the perfect moment.

It’s laced with the kind of pent-up tension that only comes from months of stolen glances and lingering touches that never quite crossed the line.

Your back hits the classroom door with a soft thud. Her hand is on your waist—tight. Her mouth is claiming yours, and your thoughts go fuzzy as your hands fist in her blazer, pulling her impossibly closer.

You whimper. Actually whimper.

That earns you a pleased noise from her chest, and then she’s tilting her head, deepening the kiss like she knows exactly what she’s doing; which, of course, she does.

When she finally pulls back, lips kiss-bitten and eyes dark, you’re left breathless and dazed and absolutely not thinking about the copier anymore.

She smirks, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek.

“There. Much better.”

You swallow hard. “I—what just—”

“That’s what happens when you don’t stop talking,” she says, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Now sit down before I really show you how much you’ve been driving me crazy.”

Melissa’s mouth is back on yours, demanding and rough, and it’s like the rest of the world just…falls away.

She kisses like she fights—sharp, precise, and absolutely in control. Except now, she’s letting herself lose some of that control. For you.

Your hands are everywhere—clutching at her hips, sliding up the back of her blazer, dragging her tighter against you like your body needs hers. She tastes like coffee and something unmistakably her.

“You gonna be good for me now, hon?” she murmurs against your lips, voice low and wrecked.

You nod, but she tugs your bottom lip between her teeth, teasing. “Use your words.”

“Yes,” you gasp, barely coherent. “Yes, please—fuck, Melissa—”

She groans like that did something to her, like you did something to her, and then she’s pressing you harder into the classroom door, her thigh sliding between yours.

Your hips buck before you even mean to. It’s instinct. Need. You can feel her smirk against your jaw, her breath hot as she trails kisses down your neck.

“You were driving me crazy, you know that?” she mutters, hand slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, palm flattening over the small of your back to keep you flush against her. “Pacing around, flapping your mouth, looking at me with those big eyes like you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t—I mean, I wasn’t—”

Another slow grind of her thigh between your legs cuts you off with a strangled whimper.

“Yeah, sure. Real innocent.”

Her hands slide to your ass and pull you tighter, and suddenly you’re rocking against her leg, shameless and desperate. The friction is obscene, delicious—heat building with every movement, every groan, every kiss that’s more teeth than tongue now.

You feel drunk on her. The way her body fits against yours, how solid and sure she is, how present. It’s overwhelming…in the best fucking way.

“Fucking finally,” Melissa grits out as your hips roll again, your breath hot and broken against her collarbone. “You have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?”

You moan, nails digging into her back as you chase every bit of pressure she gives you.

“Touch me,” you whisper.

“I am touching you,” she growls. “You want more?”

You nod frantically. She slides a hand under your skirt, not quite where you need her, just enough to tease. Her fingers dig into the flesh of your thigh, keeping your legs spread around hers as she starts grinding you down on her, slow and rough and completely unrelenting.

“Come on, baby,” she urges, lips brushing your ear, voice thick. “Be good for me. Take what you need.”

You whimper, and your rhythm stutters, thighs shaking. It’s too much. It’s not enough. It’s perfect.

You’re not even sure who starts it, but suddenly she’s kissing you again and it’s messy, open-mouthed, teeth clashing. One of you moans into the other, and it’s lost in the wet, dizzy tangle of lips and tongue and desperation.

You’re so close.

Soaked through your panties, rocking against her thigh like a woman possessed, chasing it.

Melissa moans your name and it tips you over the edge.

You come with a cry muffled by her shoulder, your whole body shuddering as she holds you firm, still grinding you through it. Not letting up.

She’s panting too. Forehead against yours, breath ragged, lips swollen and red.

When you finally still, breathless and trembling in her arms, she kisses you once more, but gentler this time.

You blink up at her, dazed. “Okay. So. I guess I was talking too much.”

Melissa snorts, presses one last kiss to your cheek. “You ever do it again, I’ll shut you up the exact same way.”

God help you—you hope so.

[neunhofferart]

Rigged props/interactive props are actually something that they try to work out in the writing and design stages before we board something (though we have had changes made during boarding sometimes if it was simple enough), and a lot of vehicles and simple props that were constructed in pieces in 3D anyway, and were often built to open and close just in case also. This dresser for example was modeled in pieces and extremely easy to rig to open and close. I actually could have screencapped opening and closing it myself in Blender if I had really wanted to, but it's way faster to just draw something like that lol (for example if I needed to board a door opening and closing sometimes I'd just take 1 screencap of the vehichle with the doors deleted and quickly draw it by hand).

Whenever we got a script, our wonderful Storyboard Production Coordinator Lindsey (and her PA Geremiah!) would always call out all the new props and environments that we would be using, and she would always find out what we could and could not interact with if we had any ideas that weren't in the original script. Additionally, we were asked to make action maps of everything we planned to interact with or move in the set of each sequence to double check with design and animation that everything would work.

I think I couldn't show anything inside the dresser because nothing was modeled/ someone would have had to specifically place something in there, which didn't matter at all for the scene. It's kind of like when live action actors are drinking out of mugs but nothing is actually in them haha.

We had other cabinets that DID have stuff inside- for example in season 2 there were a bunch of files and papers in the filing cabinets at the lab. It kind of just depends on how much use everyone thinks a prop or vehicle might need. All the vehicles were fully modeled and rigged in pieces from the beginning with the expectation that we could do whatever we need with them, for example.

I think a problem I ran into more often on this show wasn't actually 'can we interact with this prop' (because most of the sets were built in pieces the answer was usually yes), but rather 'can the characters go to this part of the set?'

In the larger circular outdoor sets for example, the objects on the furthest edge of the set aren't fully rendered, and the characters aren't meant to go that far in close up shots.

Interacting with the pillows and the beds in the villa sets was also something we knew we would have to do regardless, but there was a question of 'how much give can the animation team actually give the bed, can the pillows squish,' etc. Those are asks we usually expect to have more limitations on in a 3D TV show like this, but I think we were often pleasantly surprised.

Taking the sheets and blankets fully off the bed/ really showing the characters under the sheets was an automatic no, would never even bother asking LOL. Long cloth sim interaction is a nightmare to be avoided at all costs in a show like this HAHA.

T-T

Okay, the fun boards from Chaos Theory I worked on over-- time to start getting into the sad stuff. I spent a lot of time on this scene and I always really liked how a lot of these drawings turned out.

Also! Going to be disclaiming this on my Yasammy boards this season-- I am queer myself, I really love Sammy and Yaz, and I actually really wanted to work on these scenes.

To make their relationship work in a healthy way, one of the things never fully addressed back in season 1 was the fact that they weren't fully communicating their needs and feelings to each other, and they have kind of just been running on the rush of being reunited in person alongside the rush of surviving a ton of near death experiences while kind of just assuming they were on the same page about everything. Discovering Brooklynn was alive kind of snapped them back to reality, and made them remember they haven't been on the same page. These were the things I kept in mind when approaching my sections, personally.

It was satisfying to explore just like any of the other conflicted relationships in the show (Kenji and Brooklynn, Darius and Brooklynn, Darius and Kenji, Brooklynn and anyone, etc.), especially because the conflict in the Yasammy relationship has nothing to do with their queerness.

Finally, any weird homophobic comments/interactions with any of my posts about their breakup will result in the comments being removed and/or the user being blocked :)

[familyvideostevie]

tlou hbo season 2: episode 3 thoughts

okayyyyy. lock in! are we just titling the episodes after songs? whatever. lots of in-the-weeds stuff about the themes in this episode. i have my doubts, i have somethings i liked, i have one thing i HATED. CRAIG.....

spoilers for tlou hbo and tlou part ii below.

just wanted to say I forgot how badass the dogs killing the infected was last episode. Are we just doing song title episodes now or what?

EPISODE 3: THE PATH

GOOD -man "all gone" will always hit. Always always always. Good way to start. playing it at joel's grave made me cry.  -the emotional payoff for Tommy not being at the lodge plays out beautifully here for me. the silent start to the episode, the lighting in the morgue, the other bodies and the scope of the loss but tommy sits down with his brother and cleans him. it was very reverent, in a way. give sarah my love, whoo, boy, i cried. they finally got tears from me here! -ellie waking up screaming -- i think hbo!ellie feels things more intensely, and so establishing that there is ptsd involved is a move that works. i expect this to come back as she gets deeper into seattle (i hope so, anyway). also, it was cool to see exactly how functional the hospital is in jackson! after writing so much fic about the place and making shit up it was good to know that i was uh, making up the right kind of shit. -jesse! tommy! hot men rebuilding the town! that's it, that's the bullet point. -i'll talk more about this conversation between ellie and gail in a different part of the post but frankly? ellie when she is jerking someone around is funny. it's a sort of malicious humor as opposed to how she used to fuck with joel, obviously, but i think the switch from her lying through her teeth to gail (more on this later, again) to walking down the hallway of the hospital was very compelling. there is so much we are not being told but this is a good hint at it. -flowers at joel's house...the notes...god. and the house tour! the choice to have her bedroom ready and waiting for her (sans mattress) was potent. i think it fits for this ellie and joel -- where things are so tumultuous between them. i always felt like joel using the spare bedroom in the game for his workshop was a sign that he fully supported ellie's independence, though it made me sad. him leaving her bedroom actually made me sadder, so. and then the rest of it! the score as she finds the watch and the gun, the jacket. the way she breaks and swallows it. I'm interested in how they're showing her crack and then lock it back up. -tommy and ellie talking about their plan. don't talk to me like i didn't know him. he was my brother. i loved the way gabriel delivered this line. he's not yelling at her, he's not mad at her, he's being blunt and truthful. and the way she regrets it right away -- i just like that he's not careful with her in this moment. and the way they hug, that come here. telling her where to find joel. i always want more of these two, and the way they are framing what is to come makes their relationship very important. -ellie having a matrix poster is sick as hell she's so funny -i will maintain that joel going to therapy is bullshit but fuck if gail isn't funny. this sort of seer type character who sees people for who they are and has to keep it all to herself! so interesting. the way she clocks ellie as a liar -- i actually agree, here. ellie lies to herself this entire story. about why she's doing this, about what she wants out of it. clocked, clocked, clocked! there was maybe one person she told the truth to and he's... -i am not sold on this dina x ellie dynamic as it is but dina taking charge and reminding ellie that she cannot be an island is something i like. -coffee grounds on the grave. i cried, okay? -the approach to seattle on the highway was gorgeous. also the first time that ellie felt like an ellie i recognized (don't come for me here). the set of her brow, the way bella says too quiet. it just really felt like her. -reveal of the WLF being actually an insane army...and yet we gonna mow through them, motherfuckers

IFFY -time jumps are always iffy for me cause they are easy to overuse. after such a dramatic one at the start of the game and how much time manipulation we are in for (hopefully) i grow weary. also is march in Montana really this...not-snowy -dina my beautiful angel i love you why do you have curtain bangs -dina and ellie at the table. we have swapped dina's love for ellie with her love for joel as motivation for the seattle mission. yeah, i think dina cares for ellie a lot and they are close friends, but since we are lacking a solid answer on her romantic commitment, i am unsure how I'm feeling about it. the cookies and the lying and the way ellie snaps at her -- all of this reminded me of ellie calling dina a burden in the game. but what i did think felt right was the way ellie regrets her outburst but can't apologise for it, and the way dina allows this. we will see how that give and take develops and falls apart -the sharp cut to the seraphites. phew. okay. i really need to noodle on this more because i am really...interested in where they are going to go with this. as a gamer, i know who these people are and what they are about. i wonder how this hit for people who are like woah wtf! cause i remember playing the game and when you meet the seraphites you're like....WHAT? but this narrative framing feels like craig overwriting the seraphites vs the wlf to get out from under neil's previous overwriting of the seraphites vs the wlf. does that make sense? showing the children, the conversation about the prophet and protection, the fact they are leaving a war behind. and then the fact that they are slaughtered, all of them. and, in theory, we don't know that this wasn't abby, yet. this was just the wlf. i think it pushes us so far to one side that i wonder how grey they will be able to make the wlf in s3. maybe to make abby's turn more rooted in ideology? I'm not sure, still noodling on this one -nature vs nurture convo. i actually agree with gail here -- they were walking side by side from the start. i think that i agree with this in the context of the game more than the show for reasons i won't bore you with but all have to do with characterization. i also believe that ellie has a capacity for violence that surprises even her, especially in this story, and that such a capacity is not inherently negative. i think it kept joel alive and keeps her alive. i think it is meant to be a sticky question for us -- how we can hold something so dark inside us but also love, etc. some people just can't be saved. i don't know if i agree with this fundamentally but i think it's a really interesting point in the whole gail as a sort of seer/cassandra figure -- a role occupied by the player in the game. she knows what is coming, i think, even if it's just in abstract. -i get it! the boots are practical. but i wanted ellie to slaughter half of seattle in converse. sue me!

BAD -why are everyone’s clothes clean. Why does it look like everything is fresh off the ll bean rack. Seriously where is Gail getting her clothes and why it ann taylor  -i have decided that ellie and joel did talk on the porch. but something about this conversation with gail bothered me -- not the lying through her teeth. but the your final moment with someone doesn't define your whole time with them. while it's true (especially since their final moments were horrible ones), i don't believe that this ellie has the emotional wherewithal for that kind of a sentiment. or if she even believes it? it just did not sound right from her. maybe I'm not giving her enough credit, but still. also why are we doing what seems like a first therapy session in this way. i wonder what gail gets out of these and who tells her to do them -(IFFY/BAD for this one) seth and carlisle and the town meeting. this is another one that i am still turning over in my head. it might be more of an iffy than a bad, but let's talk it out (you have no choice, i am talking it out here). the framing of this to me is supposed to be two extremes -- the high road and the low road -- and then ellie choosing where she wants to walk. and us choosing where we want to walk. forgiveness vs revenge. moving on vs vengeance. the core battles of part ii, no? i think ellie's speech is interesting -- even if we are essentially told she doesn't give a fuck, she's giving it because she has to -- and it raises more themes i wonder if they will explore. justice vs revenge, community vs strangers, us vs them. there is a lot of that in part ii -- a lot of it insidious, if you look at it a certain way -- but a lot of the emotional/ethical conflict in the game that you experience as a player is what you are doing at ellie/abby's hands. i can't tell if this writing is telling us how to think? or giving us options and then proving later that it's simply not black and white, not what seth or carlisle were saying. we'll see. this ties into seth helping ellie and dina -- i don't think this is bad, i guess, because it's proving what i just said. who do we accept help with when we are desperate? our enemies. this will return with abby and lev. hm.

-and finally. THE FUCKING TENT. WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME. YOU'RE GAY I'M NOT? I ALREADY DID? dina is pregnant and she and ellie haven't even KISSED AGAIN. in the game ellie doesn't know dina likes girls, but it always seemed to me that after joel dies dina does not fuck around and makes it clear to ellie that she is there for her as her friend and also as her girlfriend. maybe I'm mad about nothing maybe I'm overracting but the whole thing felt so flippant to me and like dina was messing with ellie (which maybe she would have done BEFORE they were on a life and death revenge mission) what the fuuuuuuuuuck are we going to do about this you guys. what the FUUUUUUCK

wow that was a doozy. i think they're just going to keep getting longer. lmk what you thought! apologize if i do not reply -- i like to hear your opinions! i am just lazy <3

[cogniizaant]

hello hi I love your writing🔥🔥🔥🔥 you should write some more Froggy stuff, like possibly with an affectionate reader? /nf

THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON i'm very flattered and i'm so glad you requested. and im also sorry i saw this a bit late i hadn't checked my laptop when i had left work yesterday. anywho enough about me i would be happy to write more stuff about Froggy. these will also be headcanons kinda so i hope you're cool with it.

i ran out of related banners so quick.

Froggy x Affectionate!reader HCS.

It's definitely shocking for him at first and you might have to ease him into it. I wouldn't say he'd be unfamiliar with affection or anything, but rather just used to more toned down expressions of it. SO, if you're the type to go all out with declaring your love for him, do be prepared for his initial reaction to be a bit more timid.

He'd never fully get used to it. It'll be that one thing about dating you that he can never fully get accustomed too. One minute you guys are talking, having a casual conversation and then you just out of nowhere turn to him, hugging him until your faces are pressed against each others as you remind him again for the umpteenth time that day that you love him. He'd shiver a bit, but struggle to fight back a smile as he pats the arm wrapped around him. He actually really likes hearing despite how hesitant he is to say it back. It's not that he doesn't feel the same, because he does. He's just too embarrassed to say it back. He's also a bit embarrassed of how easily you can get to him. He's obviously not the calmest guy ever and he's relatively outspoken with his feelings, but it's for him to get this giddy over another person is crazy to him. None of his past relationships were like this at all. He's the type to say he's a 'grown ass man' whenever warranted but has to cover his face and stop himself from giggling and kicking his feet whenever you're with him.

On any special holidays, he's learned to brace himself and be prepared to wake up to enough gifts to cover every birthday for the rest of his life and then some, or an expertly planned date for the two of you that you've curated every aspect of since the year prior. He might think it's a bit too much at times or complain that he won't be able to get him anything of equal value. If you respond in anyway saying he doesn't need too and that you're doing this strictly because you love him and you want too, then he might call you corny. He doesn't mean it at all, it's just to distract you from the fact that he's super flustered over it.

On the topic of gifts, whenever he gives you anything he's finally accepted the fact that you will have the most over the top reaction ever. He's gotten tackled and smothered with kisses enough times to know there's no curbing your excitement. He's honestly grown to enjoy it, and even anticipate it. I think he'd be pretty attentive and would do his best to remember what you like so he can get something aligned with your interests with you. He feels proud that he's able to make you happy even though he still feels that his gifting abilities are subpar in comparison to yours.

"Hey, it's nothing. Really. I just remembered you said you liked that show." "Froggy, I love it so much. I've never been gifted anything this great before ever in my life. I swear I'm going to craft a ring with my bare hands and propose to you with it one of these days." "How am I supposed to respond to that?!"

A lot of your conversations go like that. You're so insanely nice and loving towards him it genuinely throws him off so much. The gears in his brain stop turning every time and he has to manually restart them. He enjoys it a lot, but questions himself often on whether he's built to handle this. You're able to say how you feel to him so clearly and consistently and he can barely respond back without blushing and stuttering. You make him really nervous, but in a good way. You could have been dating for decades, now. Married, even. He'll still get flustered over you being affectionate with him either way. It's like a never ending crush on you.

He's very wary about letting you meet his colleagues. You all would probably get along very well, so that is not his concern. He can't let anyone see him in that state. Well, with the exception of you, of course. I mean, how can he retain his authority then? In reality, none of them would say much about it, though it would be a shocking sight. You cannot convince him of that, though.

Overall, Froggy will never be unsure about your love for him, so good job on that. He loves you back. He's just working up the courage to say it with a straight face.

[biowaredisasterbisexual]

Shameless Self-Promotion Saturday Sunday/Sunday Accountability Post

Thanks for the uno-reverse tag, @skullypettibone!

I am not sure who has been tagged yet, so I’ll just throw some gentle tags out there to as many people as I can bug off the top of my exhausted head (I slept for 3.5 hours, please forgive me): @hyperions-light, @ofcrowsanddragons, @bygonesigh, @dymme, @basedonconjecture, @corvus-frugilegus, @mageofquandrix, @mythals-whore, @galluslonging, @jouskaroo, @wukodork, @znthra, @operative-arrow, @the-sparrohawk, @davrinsleftpectoral, @becausedragonage, @littlemissgeek8, @uchidachi, @thedissonantverses, and last but never least — anyone reading this who wants to! Show off and tag me so I can yell about you!

The idea: We make a post and show off, what cool stuff we created over the past week. Art, Screenshots, writing (anything from a questionnaire about your OC to the 100K epos...) anything we do is worth to be seen and to be promoted. And by tagging people, commenting, and reblogging, we share the love and boost ourselves, and other's confidence. No matter what form you choose, whether you reblog your initial post, or create a new one with teasers, you decide!

I have, once again, managed to accidentally put this off until Sunday, so I’m combining it with my Sunday Accountability Post, which I make each week to create a false deadline and trick my ADHD into letting me work.

So this week we closed out BELLARA WEEK 2025!! As I did for Taash Week 2025, I challenged myself to write a ficlet every day based on the prompts and really push myself creatively. So: Bellara Week 2025 Ficlet Series!

I also posted up the second-to-last of the Getting Into Trouble series: Testamentum, a Neverook fic taking place post-Tearstone and pre-Endgame. Angst, Disaster Rook Lore, a reunion!

The next one-shot in that series, if I ever manage to get it to a place I feel is good enough, will be the finale. I know. I can’t really believe it either. 🤯

But all is not lost for me. I did also work on both the finale and on The Ventus Job, the GIT sequel, this week. So here’s a snippet of TVJ below the cut.

“So, what’s the plan, Trouble?” Neve asked him later. Kind of a fool’s errand for her, honestly, because Rook was still far more interested in letting his fingertips run over the soft skin of her stomach than he was in a pre-party strategy session.

He smirked, leaning in to kiss her collarbone. “This?” He offered, before letting the edge of his teeth graze over her. He couldn’t help the sense of accomplishment when she shivered.

“Your cousins will be here in,” she checked the magical clock on the wall, “an hour.”

“Plenty of time.”

At that Neve laughed, pushing him away gently and he grinned. “You and I both know it’s not. Try again.”

“Try to…?” She flicked his breastbone, and he chuckled. “Alright, alright. So, we get dressed. You look amazing, I look roguishly charming,” he began. Neve smirked, and he grinned.

“You accompany Livinia. I accompany Sabine.” It was going to be a long night. Whatever face he made made Neve snicker, though, so maybe his suffering would be worth it. “And I accept thanks in the form of sexual favors or chocolate, by the way.”

She prodded his side and he continued, “We get in. So there’s the easy part.”

[vespidclan]

I’d advise that if you’re going to make a clangen comic… I’m probably not the best to take inspiration when it comes to planning it out or working on it- I make so many mistakes in my notes that I confuse myself. I do too much for one moon and I literally forgot how the seasons work. When I first started the comic I had no idea how file editing worked and only just started learning a little after.

A tip from me: Keep it simple. Don’t pressure yourself to make a big endearing story because more often than not the story will find it's way in as you play the game… Write the most important things down as you play, including other notes for lore and stuff so you don’t forget them. (Who likes who? How do the characters interact with each other? What conflicts have been going on?) Don’t worry about your art not ‘looking good’ and draw however you want it, always keep a reference with you (characters, setting, colors…)

50% of the time I’m just ‘winging it’ and making things more complex than they should be. It’s why I had to make a Vespidclan Bible lol… All in all though making Vespidclan has been an enjoyable experience and I look forward to making more of it every day. I put passion in every comic and it’s honestly grown to be very personal to me, thank you

Today’s the anniversary of when I first started Vespidclan in Clangen… The day the game broke

I miss back when the girls were so young and happy… before we had any bug drama :’) They’ve gone so far!

I’d probably do a special event or something for this but I don’t really know what to do! So take these facts about what it was like playing the actual game from what we know thus far

Their names were all the same, except Snakepaw was Icepaw. I kept it for a while thinking “oh Icicle and her are matching” but it started to confuse me between the two! So I changed her to Snakepaw about 2 moons in, since she looks like a piebald snake to me.

^ Tying in with that their warrior names were completely the same and I didn’t have to change them… Except for Snake’s. I think she was Snakeeyes, which is a name I liked, but didn’t really fit all that much for her! I ended up naming her Snakevalley for no specific reason, it just sounds nice and cool. (Maybe for an in-lore reason, Icicle gave her ‘Valley’ to keep the remembrance of the Pineclan forests and fields with her)

All the Pineclan cats are in the file and are dead, Sparkbreak is the Starclan guide. I changed this later when I added in Moththorn/404 to the game, but I shouldn’t expand on this, because of lore reasons! Wait until I Am That I Am comes out!

Now that I think about it all lot of names were changed- Fallenfox was something else, but ‘fox’ was RIGHT THERE and I HAD to name her that. Warmfur was Warmshade (good name but he’s literally bright orange), Dreamcatcher was Dreamspike (wasn’t a fan of this one), and everyone else thus far have their names the way they are.

I know it doesn’t seem like it but this story will still keep The Swarm elements, it just wasn’t implemented all that well because there were so little cats! It’ll be added into the story the same time I started following it more in my gameplay, which will be somewhere around the current moons… because of someone we know. 👀🦋

I like having creative control over how the cats look when I draw them. The colors are fine and I try to keep them as close as possible without color picking (I’d hate to have cats that look the exact same) but I like to simplify my designs for them and so they look nice in a comic format, and only sometimes adding extra stuff on them- Icicle never had any yellowish white but she got it cuz I felt like she needed more color on her.

Heartflicker never got a permanent leg injury. I added that to the story myself because it worked as a ‘consequential’ event for what happened before. (nearly killing Icicle) It’s not something she can undo just like that, neither can she undo her actions.

Through my notes I somehow messed up with the seasons. Instead of having greenleaf for 3 moons, I wrote down 5 moons. But I kept this and will continue to! It adds so much to the game being broken and unfixable, not even the in-game moons are perfectly fixed because of 404’s influence.

^ This is also why I made Snakevalley die the way she did. No one gave her berries, no one killed her or anything like that. In the game she died of a heatstroke. But in the comic, it was leafbare, so this didn’t make any sense to me. Took me a while to come up with a reason to have her killed AND be a complete turning point for the story… Because her dying was a complete shock for myself!

…YES Icicle gets pregnant. But that was and will be the only heavy spoiler I am willing to share!

[jojobeejpg]

no art lately because I'm suffering through my sem exams 😃 I'll be back in the second week of April or so ^_^

(I'm available on @goblinaurora , where I ramble and repost art and stuff, if y'all care or whatever)

[shuploc]

A plushie manufacturer reached out to me a couple of days ago, asking if I would be interested in a collab with them and I of course said yes!

So many people have already made JayVik plushies inspired by the show, so I was thinking about having Jayce and Viktor plushies made based on my designs for the knight/prince AU.

Would you guys be interested in that?

[humanmorph]

fatt pin-up week 2: intimacy

a room & a bed

version from before i started messing with the bg & overlay colors (<- what a pain!!!). i like this one too.

[rated-rko]

crazy lady being crazy under cut be warned! tw for like, iraq war stuff, i guess 👍

okay so let’s just say there’s a possibility that randy didn’t tell that command officer to fuck himself (figuratively) when he said get back to the field, and he did in fact shut up and go pick up that rifle like he was told and resumed training with this desertion thing hanging over him. and now let’s say that john actually did get fired from the company during that messy limbo period where they couldn’t figure out what the fuck to do with him—and didn’t love the idea of grovelling his way back to west newb and admit to daddy, despite all his endless and unconditional tough loving support, that he was right and it failed—and he also enlisted. (i’m sure he said he planned to but i can’t remember where i got that lol)

and they meet, of course. because the fanned-fiction system i have going here is stupid and random and mathless, and if you feed it enough bodies eventually you end up cross-referencing two almost-wrestlers in some forgotten corner of the war. because it’s my sandbox and i said so! they talk about wrestling a maximum of two times because randy is still really bitter and so is john and it does like ‘i’m a failed wrestler’ and ‘oh yeah my dad was a wrestler, i liked goldberg!’

randy would already be broken by the time john gets there. he enlisted at 18, passed through boot, soi, assigned to camp horno, hell on earth even before the towers fell. if he didn’t get out, 9/11 would’ve caught him mid-contract i think?? no choice but to re-up when the invasion orders came down. meaning: he would’ve been a marine during the 2003 initial invasion and the years of heavy ass insurgency (Fallujah, Ramadi, Haditha, etc.).

he’s probably a second-term lance corporal—has some low-level authority—maybe a fireteam leader or even a squad leader by necessity, but he’s kinda terrible at it because he refuses to take responsibility seriously. probably still insubordinate as fuck—always toeing the line of getting an njp, but just good enough in the field that they keep him around. surprisingly good at… war… and weapons. yikes lol :)

he’d have seen just enough training evolutions to know the corps was bullshit but not enough combat to be jaded properly. he wouldn’t even really believe in anything by the time they hit iraq. just endless field ops, endless humps, endless days with a fifty-cal chewing his spine to shreds. cigarettes and rip fuel and complete self-hatred keeping him upright. do i even want to go into how i think he’s some grunt sucking a co…. nope. anyway, kids himself on “old breed” mindset—your job is to suffer in silence, take the hit, do the mission. “embrace the suck” culture in his marrow.

johnnnn, though. oh, john would be brand fucking new. golden retriever boot energy. (i also just think john cena sucks off uncle sam is also a universal truth lol 😌)

he signed the papers at… an older age, i don’t wanna do maths right now, older than most kids, but still just as green, and just as eager. he’d be the guy still cleaning his rifle obsessively after week-long patrols. still calling officers “sir” while getting openly mocked by the guys who knew better. the kind of recruit who stood at parade rest in bombed-out iraqi courtyards while everyone else squatted in the dirt. perfect teeth, perfect salute, not a damn clue.

he’s kind of hated by veterans for being too clean-cut, too eager, too convinced he’s going to make a difference or whatever. this guy ends up doing 90% of the grunt work because he’ll say yes to any order and doesn’t know when to quit, probably compulsively thinks he’s protecting the people around him by being better, trying harder—in reality, it makes no difference.

but he’s a golden boy at heart and earns a reluctant respect because when shit hits the fan, he doesn’t freeze. he doesn’t run. he holds the line and they’re both good soldiers in their own ways, fucked up as that thought is lol

john doesn’t like randy much for all the things listed above. he sees randy smoke two packs a day, scarred up hands, sun-ruined skin, looks older than he is. permanent five o’clock shadow. eyes always half-lidded with hate or exhaustion. this motherfucker neverrrr wears his kevlar unless ordered. and randy hates john because he’s a fresh scrubbed, high and tight haircut, boot blousing neat, still tries to keep his utilities clean even in the field. 250 pounds of pure american cornfed masochism slowly realizing the stars and stripes won’t save him. they’d still fuck, though🙃

but first, they would fight fucking constantly.

randy’s always calling him “fucking boot” or “golden retriever” under his breath. and john, at first, trying to defuse tension with dumb jokes.

over time and trauma… they build that sick, co-dependent battlefield intimacy where you know the exact sound of the other guy breathing next to you at night and trust him with your life but also might shoot him yourself if you spend one more goddamn day listening to him chew beef jerky.

i think about them running missions together through towns no one will remember, guarding fuel convoys no one cared about, posted up in sand-choked fields trading cigarettes (i don’t actually think even a jarhead john cena would smoke but whateverrrr, amuse me please) and they’d whack off to same dog-eared hustler magazine that’s been passed around since kuwait. i think about them trading dog tags like kids swapping baseball cards. stitching each other up with field dressings meant for someone else. crossing streams of piss into empty desert and unabashedly staring at each others cocks, john trying to keep everyone in line, randy half-assing patrols because he knows better than to think any of this matters but gets real fucking scared and in his own head constantly because randy orton is a scared little tough guy in all my dimensions!!!!

i think about them saving each other’s lives once or twice by accident. maybe not even talking about it after.

and obviously this shit was horrific and i don’t wanna gloss over that so when it all goes wrong, when they’re ordered to kick in doors and don’t find insurgents, just some kid younger than them with an ak, and there’s blood everywhere and no one can remember who pulled the trigger first, it’s john who stays up shaking and praying under his breath like it’ll fix anything. and it’s randy who sits there smoking, dead-eyed, like he’s been here a thousand times before. because he has. because he stayed in when he should’ve run.

and it wouldn’t make either of them better. it wouldn’t even make them friends. but it would tie them together, blood and sand and the same ugly guilt that makes you laugh at nothing until your ribs ache. that’s what the corps teaches ya. it’s a long, slow drag toward oblivion, side by side, because it’s easier to keep walking if someone else is dragging their boots through the dust next to yours. can’t decide if they need to die for their hypothetical crimes or end up still attached after it’s all over, but for the record i think john would try to adjust to a normal life and randy would… be a mess… and john would try fix him because he figures he can’t actually adjust. hmmmm.

like i said. i think about it wayyyyy too much. um. and also my critical iraq war knowledge maxes out somewhere between oil, tony fucking blair, and war crimes also so it would require a fucking fuck ton of research to be accurate at all, but GODDDDDD i want to write/read this one day

if you made it to the end, 1) apologies, 2) you may somehow be interested in randy talking about the marines some more lol i didn’t know whether to post it i don’t know if people actually care about this stuff but it’s food for thought!

tbh something i think about an actually obscure amount (and has been my very hypothetical passion product since before writing ribs) is a randy and john jarhead au.

[thegrimreaperisanerd]

*kicks down door* in case no one's drawn this yet

OOOOOOH!!!!!! "in case no one's drawn this yet" BUT WHAT ABOUT SECOND BREAKFAST!?

ALWAYS DOWN TO SEE STUFF DRAWN FROM MY FICS! THANK U SO MUCH!!!

for real though, im about to head to work and im having a god awful week, i saw you sent this a couple days ago and ive just been looking at it every now and then to perk myself up!! Thank you so much!!!