#i saw A LOT of people recently reblog my old drawing of these two so i decided to draw them again :p

[nomadic-star]

zote and bretta (2023 deluxe edition)

Reblogs appreciated!!!

[grapesodatozier]

so close to the real thing (closer than you think)

rating: explicit

word count: 6.8k

summary: Eddie's been pining over Richie for as long as he can remember. He loves everything about Richie; especially how much Richie loves touching him. It's a little inconvenient, though. Eddie copes with his pent up sexual tension by constantly checking a porn blog he's obsessed with on tumblr. This guy has the same type of body as Richie, he talks like Richie, his name is even Richie! It makes it all too easy for Eddie to pretend it really is Richie while getting himself off to all of the blog's content.

You'll never guess what he finds out when he starts sexting this stranger named Richie from his anonymous porn blog.

tags: friends to lovers, porn with feelings, love confessions, dom/sub dynamics, bi dom top richie, gay sub bottom eddie, the most oblivious pining idiots in the world lol we love them

notes: this is one of my more ridiculous ideas but I had so much fun with it lol. also as a note you probably should not approach people on the internet the way they do in this fic, but they're just v enthusiastic and everything here is v consensual!! still tho definitely don't take this indulgent fic as a guide on how to approach real people online lmao. okay have fun!!

read on ao3 or below!!

notsfw under the cut

Eddie Kaspbrak’s friends were his entire world; time spent with them meant everything to him. But he also really valued his alone time. He’d always been the sort who needed time to just sit on a grassy hill and watch the trains go by, to catch up on comics in his room, to get lost in Netflix shows or even just his thoughts as he moseyed around his apartment—one he live in by himself, for when these moods hit. He needed time to himself to unwind. And sometimes he unwound by scrolling through some porn blogs on tumblr with his hand in his pants.

There was one blog that he was particularly fond of. There were other blogs more catered to his personal interests, namely blogs that didn’t feature women like this one did. But there was a good balance of genders represented, so Eddie figured he could just scroll past those posts. This guy was worth it. His pictures were ridiculously hot, and his dirty talk was even hotter.

Also, his name was Richie. Which Eddie refused to acknowledge as part of the draw.

It was harder to ignore tonight. He’d been out with the losers, and Richie had just been so touchy. And there was something about the way he'd been talking; his voice was lower than normal, slower in a way that made Eddie’s stomach flip. And his touches had lingered, his hand squeezing Eddie’s hip slow, then lazily brushing against his ass as he dropped it. Eddie could hardly take it. He brushed it off as Richie just being tired from work, but god, Eddie wanted it to mean more. The hardest part was hiding how much he wanted Richie to keep doing it.

There were so many things Eddie wanted Richie to do to him. He wanted Richie to touch him harder, to grab him by his hips with both hands. Richie’s hands were so big; Eddie just knew Richie could manhandle him so easily, so roughly. He wanted to know what it would feel like to have Richie’s hands all over him, grabbing at his ass and his thighs, holding his wrists down, making him feel so small. While Eddie would never admit it, huffing at every short joke Richie made, but he loved being shorter than Richie. He loved how safe he felt when Richie held him. And he was dying to know how small he would feel with Richie looming above him, or sitting in Richie’s lap, bouncing on his cock. He wanted to hear Richie talking to him in that low, slow voice, with that condescension Eddie did his best to pretend not to be affected by. He wanted Richie to whisper in his ear and call him all those pretty names he always dropped so casually, all those sweet ones and also ones that were a lot meaner. He wanted Richie to want him.

But it was easier to think about it than to ask for it. He knew Richie had way more experience than him. Well, okay, maybe not way more necessarily, but they were starting their third year of college, and he hadn’t wasted any time. Eddie, on the other hand, hadn’t done anything more than hand stuff with someone else. The guys he’d hooked up with were nice enough, and hot enough, but they just… weren’t Richie.

He supposed this guy on tumblr wasn’t Richie either, but at least he was everything else Eddie wanted. None of his hookups had been so, well, dominant, and that was this guy’s whole thing. He was dominant and a top and into guys that looked like Eddie. He even kind of talked like Richie, and he was apparently pining over his best friend, just like Eddie was. It had him completely smitten. Plus, internet-Richie’s crush had brown eyes like Eddie, and he ran track, just like Eddie did. Internet-Richie had posted once about his dick getting hard watching his friend at his track meet, and Eddie had come so hard that night, his track shorts around his ankles, imagining his Richie thinking those things about him.

Eddie was in bed now, in nothing but his boxers and one of Richie’s old shirts that had been Eddie’s for a while now. Still reeling from the way Richie had been acting that night, he logged into his porn account on his phone and scrolled through his dash for a grand total of thirty seconds before going immediately to internet-Richie’s blog. A thrill went through Eddie’s body when he saw that he had just posted. He’d written, “god my friends gonna fuckn kill me with that ass, i wanna plow him so bad” then reblogged it and added, “reminder that my asks and dms are always open if any pretty needy little subs need help getting off. please come be sluts in my messages.” Eddie’s breath caught in his throat when he saw that there was a picture, too, one of him gripping his hard cock, his boxers pulled down just enough for Eddie to see the dark hair around the base of his cock. Eddie moaned at the sight. His cock was so nice, so long and thick and pink. And fuck, his fingers. They were so long and slim, almost as nice as his-Richie’s.

Eddie scrolled a little farther down, his heart racing. There were a lot of reblogs, but some original posts here and there, things like, “what i wouldn’t do to have a pretty guy drooling all over my cock rn,” and, “in the mood to get someone dick drunk. wanna fuck a someone so hard they forget their own name.” One that made Eddie nearly choke said, “want someone i can pump my come into whenever i want, over and over again. want a sub i can keep full of my come all the fuckn time.” That post had Eddie getting out his lube.

It also had him thinking about internet-Richie’s most recent post, his post about his DMs being open.

Eddie bit his lip and thought about it. He’d sent internet-Richie some asks before from his porn blog (his blog didn’t have his name on it, just the teddy bear emoji, since he privately thought the teddy/Eddie rhyme was fun and clever, and also it was cute), and he’d seemed plenty happy enough to respond then. Still, it felt like a much bigger step to DM him, to talk to him just one on one. But the more he read his posts, the more he thought about his-Richie and how he’d touched Eddie that night, the easier it was to convince himself to shoot his shot with this stranger.

Eddie just messaged him a simple, “hi,” with a heart emoji. It was innocent enough, but his heart was still racing.

Internet-Richie responded a lot faster than Eddie was expecting. Honestly he hadn’t been expecting a response at all. But he said:

hiya cutie (; ive been hoping youd message me

Eddie flushed. He couldn’t help but hear cutie in his-Richie’s voice—especially given how often Richie used the nickname. really? he typed back.

fuck yes, ur cute little messages make me so hard. i can tell ur a pretty little thing just from the way you type

Eddie was blushing deep. Pretty little thing. That was hotter than it should’ve been. He wanted his Richie to talk to him like that, in that deep, sleepy voice.

there’s no way you can tell that from some messages :P, Eddie sent.

His heart stopped at the next messages internet-Richie sent.

oh, u dont think so?

why dont u send me some pics to prove me wrong (;

Oh my god, Eddie thought, his breath coming short. His head swam at the thought of sending this guy nudes, of showing himself off to someone who clearly wanted to see him, who would know how to take care of him and fuck him the way he liked, a guy with his crush’s fucking name and body type and hands. It had Eddie’s cock hard and leaking, and he slowly slid a finger inside of himself.

But just because the thought turned him on didn’t mean he was gonna send this stranger what he wanted so easily, even if he desperately wanted to.

you’d like that, wouldn’t you?

He fingered himself open as he waited for a response, working his way up to two fingers. It was nearly impossible to ignore his cock, but he didn’t want to come before the conversation even had a chance to start.

fuck ya i would, internet-Richie responded. Then, in a second message, whats wrong baby? you shy? ill show u mine ;)

Eddie's breath caught. God, this guy even made stupid shit sound hot, just like Eddie’s Richie. This was unreal.

i’ve seen yours, Eddie pointed out.

ya and you musta liked it if ur messaging me rn

Eddie bit his lip. ...maybe

aw thats cute sweetheart. u know i can see all the needy little tags you add when u reblog my stuff right?

Eddie blushed. He’d kind of always hoped he’d read them, but he never thought he actually did. i didn’t know you read those

oh ya, read them, jerk off to them. bit of a size queen, aren’t you? ;) it’s cute. makes me so fuckn hard when u talk abt how u want me to fill you up

Eddie whimpered out loud, sliding a third finger into himself. Fuck, he wanted that cock inside of him so bad. But right now one of his toys would have to do, once he was stretched out enough. He sped up his fingers, getting impatient. Gathering up all of his horny courage, he sent, show me.

what, no please? only good boys who use their manners get dick pics babydoll

Eddie pouted and whined to himself, making quick work of sliding his hot pink vibrator inside of himself—well, as quickly as he could without hurting himself. He moaned as it filled him up, making pleasure spread deep through his body. Slowly pumping it in and out, he reached for his phone. please, he typed, please let me see? wanna know what to picture while i fuck myself with my vibrator. He even added the wide eyed pouting emoji to really milk the whole begging thing. He knew he’d been playing a little coy, but now with the way internet-Richie was talking to him he was getting desperate.

well fuck baby since ur begging ;)

Eddie held his breath as he waited for the picture, slowly rocking his toy in and out, savoring the feeling. He wished it was Richie doing it, wished it was his cock. The lines between which Richie blurred; he wanted to get fucked by either of them, both of them.

What Eddie received when his phone lit up was not a picture, but a video. It was short, just a few seconds of Richie’s hand dragging wetly, smoothly over his cock, but it had Eddie drooling. The room was dark, so he’d used a flash, and it made the mix of what Eddie assumed was precome and spit glisten as the swollen head of Richie’s cock disappeared and reappeared from behind his fingers. Eddie must’ve played it at least five times, fucking himself a little faster, before remembering to say something back. And to take a video of his own. fuck, I want you so bad, want you to fucking ruin me, he wrote back. A part of him couldn’t believe how openly desperate he was being, but he found that he liked it; he liked the way it made him blush, he liked the way it felt to beg, to ask for what he wanted.

Richie’s response came fast: show me kitten. show me how you want me to fuck your pretty little ass.

Eddie moaned at the pet name; casual little nicknames were such a weakness for him. He was already so far gone, just picturing Richie’s cock inside of him, picturing him stroking his cock to thoughts of Eddie. The attention had his cock hard and leaking as he thrust his vibrator even deeper inside of himself, pumping it in and out a few more times before rolling over and getting on his hands and knees. It was hard to take a video from this angle, but he wanted to show off his ass and hide his face. Plus, there was something so hot about having his ass in the air and his face shoved in his pillow, looking like the perfect image of someone desperate to be fucked. He loved the way it made him feel, loved the thought of being so open for someone. For Richie.

He ended up shooting a short video as well, about ten seconds of him sliding his vibrator slowly in and out of himself, letting out soft little moans. He was pretty pleased with the way it turned out, his hole pink and smooth and wet as it stretched around his toy. The angle was a little weird, showing a lot of his room once or twice when his hand slipped a little, but overall he thought his ass looked amazing, if he did say so himself. He sent it and said, feels so good. do you want me to go faster?

As he sent it, he got settled on his back, forcing himself to go slow as he fucked himself while he waited for internet-Richie’s response. It was taking longer than before, and Eddie was getting antsy; it was so hard to drag it out, to not get ahead of himself. But whatever Richie was doing, Eddie knew it would be worth the wait. Still, he pouted as his cock ached, begging for attention.

He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a knock at the door.

He groaned to himself and stayed put, fucking himself even slower as he waited for whoever it was to leave. But then the knocking continued, loud and incessant and obnoxious, and Eddie knew exactly who it was. He also knew he wasn’t going to go away any time soon, which honestly made him smile and blush. Richie had terrible timing, but Eddie would never be upset to see him.

Reluctantly, he slowly slid the toy out and pulled on his shorts, leaving his shirt off. He still had a pretty obvious boner, but his horny brain did not mind the idea of Richie seeing it. So he strode lazily down the hall, shouting a performatively annoyed, “I’m coming!” Finally, he opened the door, cocking his hip to the side and giving Richie an expectant look. “Can I help you?” he asked, a small smile dancing around the corner of his lips. He had to fight off a smirk at the wide eyed look Richie gave him as he ran his eyes over Eddie’s body.

“Fuck,” he muttered lowly, his eyes trained on Eddie’s cock, which was getting even harder the more Richie stared. Eddie bit his lip and grinned a little, making doe eyes at Richie. But Richie didn’t meet his gaze—instead he brushed past Eddie, his mouth still hanging open as he made his way urgently toward Eddie’s bedroom.

“Richie?” Eddie asked, a little let down that Richie’s hands weren’t all over him right now. But hey, if he was heading to Eddie’s bedroom he figured that was at least the right direction. He closed his front door and followed Richie into his room, where he found him staring at the bright pink vibrator on the bed. As confident and horny as Eddie was feeling, that still made him blush. He was only human. Crossing his arms, he said, bashful now, “I was kind of in the middle of something.”

Richie looked over at him, his cheeks bright red under his freckles. Then he got a glimmer of that trademark shit-eating grin on his face. “Eds, you fucking slut,” he said, sounding both delighted and breathless. “You are so fucking hot.”

Eddie flushed and tried not to squirm, but he couldn’t help but press his legs together, his eyes brightening. Fuck, was this actually happening? Shit, he needed to think of something witty to say. “You gonna do anything about it?” Okay, that kinda sounded like a corny porn, but he had to give himself credit for even being able to form words just after his lifelong crush and personal wet dream had just admitted his attraction to him.

“I think I already have been,” Richie said, still grinning.

Eddie cocked an eyebrow at him. He couldn’t help but smile back. “Oh yeah? How do you figure that?”

Eddie was expecting a confession. He was expecting something along the lines of you think I don’t notice how you look at me? or did you really think those were casual touches earlier? What he was not expecting was for Richie to unlock his phone and hold it up, showing Eddie the video he had just taken, the video he’d sent to internet-Richie.

Oh. Oh. Oh fuck.

“Oh my god, that’s you?” Eddie cried in disbelief.

“You’re telling me you didn’t recognize this dick?” Richie asked, swaggering over to Eddie, clearly enjoying himself.

“How did you recognize it was me?”

Richie nodded toward the Thundercats poster on Eddie’s wall, then to the model train that sat on his dresser. “What other guy has decor like that and the ass to match?”

Eddie grinned and shook his head. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Well pardon me for not being especially eloquent when I’ve just learned that the guy I’ve been masturbating to since I learned how to and been in love with for even longer has been masturbating to me too.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide, all thoughts of getting fucked leaving for a moment. “You’re in love with me?” he asked, his voice as soft as his smile.

Richie was not a bashful person, but the little laugh he let out just then was close to it. “Have been my whole life, but thanks for finally noticing.”

Eddie shook his head and stepped closer, until he had to crane his head up to meet Richie’s gaze. “I love you too.”

Richie’s eyes widened behind his thick frames. Eddie had only seen that look in Richie’s eyes a few times before, but he never wanted to lose sight of it again. He always wanted Richie to look at him like that. But then Richie was closing his eyes and leaning down. It only took Eddie a second to get with the program, drinking in the moment just a little longer before letting his own eyes fall shut as he pressed his lips against Richie’s.

It started gentle enough, if deep and passionate and intentional. But then Richie’s hands were on Eddie’s bare waist, skin against skin, and Eddie was gasping into Richie’s mouth, his hands coming up and resting against Richie’s chest. He curled his fingers into Richie’s shirt as Richie ran his tongue over Eddie’s lips, just before pulling away. He laughed at Eddie’s indignant little whine.

“Oh, you mean you don’t want me to take off my shirt right now?” he smirked as Eddie tried to pull him closer by the offending fabric. Huffing, Eddie conceded and let go long enough to let Richie pull the shirt off over his head.

“Oh,” he said softly, his voice a little, awed moan as he drank in Richie’s chest. It wasn’t like Richie had never been shirtless in front of Eddie before, but Eddie had never felt like he was allowed to really look at Richie all those times. But now he could; now he could touch. And he did, running his fingers over Richie’s smooth, warm skin, over his acne scars and blackheads and freckles. “Fuck, Richie,” he sighed before pressing his lips to Richie’s collarbones, trailing them all over Richie’s beautiful chest.

Richie gave a breathless, almost shy laugh as he stroked Eddie’s hair. “Damn, Eds, never pegged you as a tits guy.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Eddie giggled, bringing his lips back to Richie’s. They both smiled into it, getting lost for a moment as Richie’s hands slid slowly down Eddie’s sides. His hands lingered on Eddie’s hips for a moment before he slid them further down and grabbed at Eddie’s ass, making him gasp.

“Is that any way to talk to the guy who’s about to rail you ‘til you can’t walk?”

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Eddie asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Spank me?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Richie smirked. He gave Eddie’s ass a playful smack, making Eddie gasp again and fall into him, needing more. Richie’s voice was dripping with adoration as he purred, “Little brat,” and pulled Eddie against him, kissing him again. Eddie went with it easily and happily parted his lips to let Richie lick into his mouth. Richie had one hand gripping Eddie’s jaw and the other on his ass, touching him in a way that exuded a command Eddie was desperate to follow. God, Eddie knew Richie had big hands, but they felt huge on him like this. It was dizzyingly hot. And the way Richie’s tongue was teasing his had Eddie’s knees going weak. His dick was throbbing in his shorts, aching to finish what he’d started, what had been interrupted. When he thought about it all—about playing with himself for Richie, about the video Richie had sent him, about all those things Richie had said about filling Eddie up—he felt himself clench down on nothing, desperate to get fucked. Desperate to feel Richie’s cock so deep inside of him.

“Richie,” he whined into the kiss, pulling on Richie’s belt loops, “please.” He pressed himself urgently against Richie and rutted shamelessly against his thigh.

“Fuck, you’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” His voice was cocky and teasing, but there was an apparent undercurrent of wonder there as well.

Eddie shoved his face into Richie’s neck and whined, grabbing onto Richie’s wrists without even knowing what his goal was. “Richie,” he whimpered, sounding pitiful and ruined already.

“What do you want, baby?” Richie’s voice made it clear that he was enjoying seeing Eddie this wrecked, and that just made Eddie even harder. “Come on, tell me, use your words.”

Eddie squirmed as Richie held him close, but still not touching him in any relieving way. “I need you inside,” Eddie said, his voice high and soft as he squirmed in Richie’s grip. “God, please, Richie, need you to fuck me. Fuck me so hard I can’t even think. Fuck me like I’m your little toy.”

Eddie could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth, and judging by the gasp he heard Richie let out, he’d caught Richie off guard too. But if the hard bulge in his jeans that brushed up against Eddie was any indication, he was apparently just as turned on as Eddie was. Besides, Eddie knew from his blog that Richie was really into that sort of thing too—and, apparently, really into the idea of doing those things with Eddie. The realization that Richie had been saying all those filthy things about him had him grinding against him with even more fervor, kissing his neck with a heated confidence. Richie moaned, and Eddie could feel the warmth of it spreading through him. “Yeah, sweetheart? You want to feel me inside you? You think you’re ready for me?”

“Yes,” Eddie sighed, looking up at Richie with wide, desperate eyes. He shivered at the new look in Richie’s eyes, the blue nearly entirely eclipsed by how wide his pupils were. He looked hungry for Eddie; Eddie wanted to feel it. “‘M ready, Richie, please, so open for you.” He looked to the toy on his bed pointedly, but Richie only gave a deep laugh.

“Oh honey, that’s cute that you think that little thing is gonna have you ready for my cock.” Eddie’s breath caught; that toy wasn’t small. Before he could gather his scattered brain enough to react, Richie was scooping him up and tossing him on the bed, the toy falling forgotten to the floor. Richie moved Eddie onto his back, and Eddie went happily, pliantly. Richie’s fingers were cool against Eddie’s burning skin as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of Eddie’s shorts, slowly dragging them over his hips and down his legs, tossing them to the floor. Eddie’s cock was dripping with precome, his chest flushed a bright red as he squirmed under Richie’s gaze. Eddie been dreaming of Richie manhandling him like this for he didn’t even know how long; he couldn’t help the way he reacted. And he especially couldn’t help the pleased little sound he made when Richie murmured, “God, you’re gorgeous, Eds.” Then Richie was grabbing him by the ankles, gently but firmly spreading Eddie’s legs, and Eddie let out the most pathetic, genuine moan he’d ever heard. “Fuck, baby, you sound pretty. You like when I spread you open?” Richie asked. He was smirking down at Eddie, but Eddie could see how flushed he was, could see the thrilled awe in his dark, hungry eyes as Eddie nodded.

“Richie, please,” Eddie whimpered. “I need you so bad.” He sat up, reaching for Richie’s belt, but Richie easily pressed him back against the mattress with a large hand on the center of his chest. The confidence in Richie’s dominance took Eddie’s breath away, and he stayed right where he was, nice and obedient, as he watched Richie get off the bed and slowly undo his belt, then his button and zipper. He took his time dragging his jeans and boxers off, enough time to let Eddie’s eyes linger on the reveal of the dark hair under Richie’s waistband. Then Richie’s cock was bouncing up against his stomach, hard and flushed and fucking long. Eddie moaned at the sight and fisted the sheets underneath him. He wanted so badly to get his mouth on Richie, to breathe him in and be nice and good for Richie on his knees. But he was also desperate to get fucked; his hole clenched down on nothing at the thought, and then it was all he could think about again. “Richie,” he repeated, whining now as he reached for him. “Stop being such a tease.”

Richie laughed as he moved easily out of Eddie’s grip and climbed on top of him. Eddie gasped softly at the sight of Richie above him, his dark curls surrounding his face, his full, pink lips pulled into the most beautiful smile Eddie had ever seen in his life. He ran his hands over Richie’s chest and sides, marveling at the fact that this was really happening. Then, his eyes flickering down, he tentatively brought his hand to Richie’s cock.

“Oh, fuck,” they said, both at the same time, making them giggle together.

“Fuck, Eds, your pretty little hand looks so cute wrapped around my cock,” Richie teased in a low, rough voice. Eddie shivered; he couldn’t tell if Richie was praising him or degrading him, but either way it made his head fuzzy.

“‘M not that little,” Eddie grumbled out of habit. But he was clearly breathless. He’d never been good at pretending not to like Richie’s compliments, however teasing.

“Aw, but you are, baby,” Richie cooed, nuzzling his nose against Eddie’s and pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “You’re so cute and tiny for me. I don’t even know if we’ll be able to fit my cock inside you.”

“I can,” Eddie whined, both indignant and impatient. He bucked his hips up, but Richie held him down. He gasped when he felt the warm, soft skin of Richie’s cock press against his stomach. Looking down, he saw that Richie had his cock lying on Eddie’s stomach, showing just how deep he would be once he was inside Eddie.

“You sure about that, babydoll?” While the teasing note was still there, Richie’s voice got noticeably softer as he said, “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Eddie’s chest swelled at that. Cupping Richie’s face in his hands, he insisted, “I can take it.” Then he reached down and took Richie in his hand, glowing with pride when Richie let out a low moan. “Richie, please, I want you so bad.”

“Okay, baby,” Richie agreed, turning his head to kiss Eddie’s palm. “Fuck, I want you, too.” But he stalled. “Have you ever… like, been fucked before?”

Eddie flushed. “Well, not by someone else, but I have some toys. I’m not gonna break, Richie.” He huffed, but the way Richie was looking at him soothed any ruffled feathers.

“I’m your first?” His smile was soft, and while his eyes glittered, there was nothing teasing about his tone.

“I didn’t wanna do it with anyone else,” Eddie mumbled. He tried to look away, but Richie pulled him into a kiss.

“Fuck, I never thought you’d want me,” he chuckled. “Sorry, that was depressing, I just mean I can’t believe we didn’t do this sooner, you know?”

Eddie beamed, a small, giddy giggle dancing on his lips. “Well it’ll happen sooner if you stop talking so much.” But his smile, and all of the little kisses he planted on Richie’s freckled shoulders told Richie that Eddie never wanted him to stop talking.

“Alright, alright, sheesh, I know I’m hot but you don’t gotta rush me.” Eddie was still giggling when Richie kissed him, and he could feel that Richie was smiling too. “Where’s your lube?”

Eddie stretched his hand out and patted the bed for a moment, searching. After what was probably only four seconds but felt like an eternity, he finally found the bottle and handed it eagerly to Richie. “Oh, right,” Richie smirked, “you’re already wet for me, aren’t you?” Eddie moaned as Richie swiped his fingers over Eddie’s slick hole, pressing in just a bit. His fingers went in easily, and he pumped them slowly, drawing little, breathy moans out of Eddie. Richie’s fingers were a lot longer and thicker than his own, and they felt amazing, but they weren’t what he wanted in that moment.

“Richie, fuck me,” he whined.

“Aw, no please? Again?” Richie tsked and shook his head, curling his fingers against Eddie’s prostate, making him cry out. “I told you, sweetheart, only good boys who use their manners get fucked.”

“Please,” Eddie cried. He rocked his hips and grabbed at Richie’s shoulders, at his arms, not even sure what his goal was there other than to get Richie closer, to get his attention, to show him how desperate he was. “Please fuck me, please.” He sounded pathetic begging like this, but that just made him harder. And it made Richie’s pupils even wider as he slid his fingers out of Eddie and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Good boy,” he purred. Eddie moaned and arched into Richie’s touch, but he only gave Eddie one more kiss on his cheek before pulling back and covering his cock in lube. Eddie watched, entranced, as Richie’s hand moved smoothly over his cock, glistening and slick. Then Richie was gently spreading Eddie’s legs even further and pressing the head of his cock against Eddie’s hole.

“Yes,” Eddie whimpered brokenly, grasping at the sheets beneath him. “Richie, please.” Meeting his gaze, he said softly, “I need you.”

“I’ve got you,” Richie assured him in a voice that made Eddie feel like he was glowing. Richie took Eddie’s hand in his and entwined their fingers, using his other hand to guide his cock inside of Eddie, who gasped at the feeling. God, he couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe his first time was going to be with his favorite person. He couldn’t believe he was finally getting exactly what he wanted. Love flooded through him, warm and perfect, somehow both soothing and electrifying as he watched Richie’s face. Eddie’s mouth dropped as Richie pressed into him, deeper and deeper and still fucking deeper, until finally Richie let out a low moan and Eddie felt absolutely breathless. The stretch was intense, and he held onto Richie tightly as he caught his breath. “Are you alright?” Richie asked. His voice was strained, but the care and concern in it was clear. “You don’t have to take all of it if it’s too much.”

Eddie wanted to laugh at the remark or roll his eyes, but with how breathless and dizzied by pleasure he already was, he had to admit Richie had a point. “Just need a minute,” he gasped. Richie ran a soothing hand over Eddie’s skin, helping him even out his breathing and relax. The feeling of Richie’s cock twitching in anticipation inside of him had him letting out little moans as he adjusted, getting more and more used to the feeling until he felt comfortable enough to tell Richie he could move. Richie kissed him before he did, his lips soft against Eddie’s, a reassuring weight. Eddie breathed in sharply as Richie pulled back, grabbing at Richie’s shoulders.

Richie immediately stopped. “You okay, baby?” he asked, caressing Eddie’s face.

Eddie wanted to melt. Richie was always touching him, always jokingly flirting with him, but this unabashed concern and, well, love had previously been reserved for dire situations, like panic attacks or injuries. Eddie couldn’t help the dopey smile that bloomed on his face as he tilted his chin up and kissed Richie. “I’m okay,” he said breathlessly. “It’s just a little different from my vibrator.” They both gave a shaky laugh as Richie nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s.

“Better, I hope?” he grinned.

“Can’t tell yet,” Eddie retorted. Another snarky comment was on the tip of his tongue when Richie pulled his hips further back, effectively sucking all the air—and attitude—from Eddie’s chest. And then Richie was pushing back in, and Eddie let out a moan he couldn’t have faked if he tried, relaxing back into the mattress as his eyes fell shut. It was the best thing he’d ever felt, pleasure and relief flooding through his body. They’d been building up this tension for years; Eddie had figured it would feel good to break it, but it really felt magical, like something had just clicked into place. Feeling Richie inside of him, rocking his hips carefully, feeling Richie twitch as he tried not to lose control had Eddie’s head reeling. Eddie’s eyes fluttered open, focusing on Richie above him, on how flushed his face was. When Richie met his eye, pressing in deep, Eddie let out a small, “Fuck.”

“Yeah? Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

Richie was smirking as he said it, but there was something else sparkling in his eyes. Something giddy and awed. Something that made Eddie sigh dreamily, “I love you.”

Richie’s eyes widened for a moment before he pressed his lips firmly against Eddie’s, his hands roaming over Eddie’s body like he couldn’t choose where to put them, where to touch him. “I love you so much,” he beamed, pressing a few more kisses to Eddie’s cheeks. Eddie giggled at the feeling, but then Richie’s hips moved just a little faster, pressing him in just a little deeper, and he was back to melting under Richie’s touch, clinging to him as he rocked his hips with Richie’s. “Fuck, you’re so amazing, baby, so fucking beautiful. You look so good like this, holy shit.”

Eddie smiled almost drunkenly at Richie’s ability to ramble even when blowing Eddie’s mind. “Feels so good,” he moaned, his voice breathy and just a little bit higher than normal. He wrapped his legs around Richie’s waist. “Please, Richie, please.”

“Fuck, baby, wanna make you feel like this all the fucking time,” Richie groaned as he picked up the pace. Eddie whined in pleasure at the change, and that just spurred Richie to go faster, harder, until he was well and truly fucking Eddie, both of them moaning with every thrust.

“Oh my god,” Eddie cried, “ohmygodohmygodhmygod, oh fuck, Richie, please.” It felt so amazing, Richie fucking into him like this, but he needed that little bit more. His cock was throbbing desperately, achingly hard; he needed to feel Richie’s hand on him. “Richie, please,” he whimpered, “please, please touch me. I need you, I need you so bad, please, Richie.” Eddie was pouting now, grabbing aimlessly at Richie, his legs still wrapped tight around him.

“Fuck, you’re so hard for me,” Richie marveled, his voice sweet and condescending as he wrapped his hand around Eddie’s cock. Eddie nearly screamed at the contact, his back arching off the bed. Richie laughed a little, which just made Eddie even harder. The way Richie spread his precome over his cock, twisting his wrist just so as he stroked him had that familiar tension coiling in his lower stomach. “Aw, does that feel good? You gonna come on my cock, kitten?”

“Fuck, yes!” Eddie screamed. He gripped at the sheets as Richie stroked him, his voice washing over Eddie, mixing with the pleasure of Richie’s touch, of his thrusts. “Yes, yes, yes, please let me come, please, please, please.”

“That’s a good boy,” Richie purred, and Eddie could feel himself tipping over the edge at the words, at how low and affected Richie’s voice was. He groaned out, “Come on my cock like a good boy, princess,” and pure pleasure crashed over Eddie like a wave. He arched his back and cried out as he came, his moans filling the room as he squirmed under Richie, grabbed at him, at the sheets. It was fucking ethereal. He felt somehow so in tune with his body and yet so detached, like he was floating. He was barely cognizant of what Richie was saying, but when he put the sounds together and realized Richie had just said, panting, “Fuck, baby, gonna come,” Eddie felt like a live wire again.

“In me,” he said urgently. His mind was still a little too scattered for full sentences, but he knew what he wanted. God, he felt like he needed it. Like he needed to feel that connected to Richie. “Richie, come inside me, please.”

Richie apparently didn’t need to be told twice; he let out a moaned, “Oh, fuck,” before burying his face in Eddie’s neck, his breathy moans like music in Eddie’s ear. And then, as Eddie was coming down from his own high, he felt the holiest thing in the world: Richie’s cock, twitching inside of him, then his warm come filling Eddie up. It was unreal, being this close to him. Richie clutching at him as he came. It was even better than the little fantasies Eddie occasionally allowed himself. Richie was here, in his arms, pressing kisses to his neck as he caught his breath. Eddie was stroking his hair and rubbing his back as Richie nuzzled into him. Richie’s skin pressed against his skin, his legs wrapped around Richie’s waist, then falling to his sides, but still pressed to him. Still keeping him close. There wasn’t a single thought in his head that wasn’t about Richie.

Richie pulled him from his dreamy haze with light kisses pressed up his jaw, then over his cheeks. Eddie giggled at the onslaught of affection, still reeling from how fucking hot and euphoric what they had just done together had been. But he happily accepted Richie’s kisses, his heart bursting, then racing as Richie pulled back to look in his eyes. “Holy, fuck,” Richie beamed, his face flushed and blue eyes hooded from the weight of his orgasm, even as they sparkled.

“I know,” Eddie said, returning Richie’s grin as he basked in the surreality of having Richie on top of him, his dorky yet charming smile framed by lips that were red and swollen because of Eddie. His glasses were knocked askew, and Eddie instinctively reached up to fix them. With a sense of wonder, he realized that his touch was allowed to linger this time. He ran his fingers down Richie’s cheekbones, over his jaw, cupped his cheeks. “I love you,” he said. The words spilled out over his lips like he couldn’t stand not to say them. And while it made his heart race a little to say it out loud now that the adrenaline and tension was all worked through, it felt even better this time when Richie’s face softened and he nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s.

“I love you so fucking much.” Richie’s voice rarely got that soft, that sincere; it felt like a blanket wrapping around Eddie. It felt safe, secure. It felt like a promise. And if there was anyone in the world Eddie knew he could trust, it was Richie. That feeling of everything coming together came back to Eddie as he lay there under Richie, their lips moving together, feeling light as a feather now that everything was finally out in the open.

[phynali]

more spn discussions, just skip this post y’all

 @queerbluebird​ thanks so much for engaging with my post/reply! i really enjoyed reading your response and i have a long reply here.

i’m responding to your post/reply here rather than reblogging it because honestly that thread is - so long. so very long. 

so first - 

i agree there is a difference between entitlement and what i would call, not promise, but instead “narrative follow-through”. A story that completely lacks narrative follow-through does end up feeling disappointing, or frustrating, or rage-inducing, depending on what’s happened. to me there’s a fundamental difference between critiquing a story based on follow-through and bad storytelling (which your post aims to do), versus say, creating hashtag campaigns about a character being silenced because and spreading conspiracy theories about a bad dub (among other things honestly).

and also - queerbaiting totally sucks, we definitely do agree on that.

where we disagree, i think are these two core points:

i do not see the narrative build-up that demands a follow-through. i do not see supernatural as having built up to the story that many destiel shippers seem to think was there, and no one has ever been able to point out to me any actual textual reasons that do craft that narrative build-up  

i fundamentally do not believe that destiel was ever a queerbait. queerbait involves active intent on the part of creators to tease a ship or queer representation in order to draw in $ from queer audiences without ever making it canon, so as not to alienate straight audiences. so, refering to point 1., i do not see the canon text as having laid the groundwork for a queerbait and those romantic tropes, at least not at any point in the past 7 years. and beyond the canon, the writers and producers and jensen ackles all indicated dean was straight, and that they were not writing a romance. if anyone queerbaited the fans, it was misha collins who kept teasing the possibility, and personally i would argue that was irresponsible of him. but that’s a different discussion altogether and tends to piss people off when it’s framed as such, because misha means a lot to them and it hurts to see the man who validated their feelings get criticized for the manner in which he validated them. so i’m gonna leave that aside.

beyond that, I want to engage with some of your specific quotes:

Supernatural loves to say “wait for it.” And I don’t think it’s entitled to feel betrayed if an author uses their story to say “wait for it” in order to convince you to stick with their story and then delivers the opposite after you do.

May i ask, where was the “wait for it” with destiel? this ties in directly to the queerbaiting. i indicated in my post/reply that while i see it from cas, there’s been little to no hint of any reciprocation of feelings from dean, and if anything the past 7 or so years have driven the point home that it isn’t happening. i personally am not able to see the “Wait for it” and that was the point of my question. without the “Wait for it”, i also can’t see the queerbait. 

I asked for specifics and while i totally get not having the spoons, you provided a few:

(off the top of my head for Dean though, the mixtape, his response to Cas’ death at the end of 12, subsequent grief arc, and reaction to Cas’ return in the front half of 13 rank highly. His reaction to Lucifer’s prank call in 15x19 might rate, but maybe just because it’s so recent.)

not trying to be unkind here, but i quite genuinely don’t see any of these examples as framing cas and dean in a romantic light, or as hinting at a “what if”. the mixtape is like.... okay, maybe. i had read that as being symbolic of something else, but i can see wanting to read it from a shipping lens. (i don’t however think i���d read it as baiting or “what if” - it was quite textually not framed that way. shipping, 100%, but canon build-up, not for me).

for the other examples -- grieving for someone you consider family? and being happy when they come back? that’s not shippy to me. i mean - contrast the grief he showed over cas’s death compared to his grief over, say, mary? or, less extreme, charlie? and nothing compared to how off the rails he goes when sam is dead or he thinks sam is. so i -- i just can’t see those as creating a narrative that demands a follow-through. and when your friend who is dead calls your phone? of course you hop to the door - i don’t know what is romantic about that. sam would’ve hopped just as quick if “cass” had called his phone instead.

and look - i see what is fun to ship about all that. if i shipped it, i’d be happily collecting these moments with a smile and grinning to myself about how cute they are and much they mean. but shipping it vs. it being romantically framed in the canon are two fundamentally different things. shipping doesn’t imply narrative buy-in or deliberation from the creator.

moving on, you also spoke at length about 15x18:

15x18 made the sort of statement that drew back even people who did exactly what OP said they should do, turning off the TV years ago. It wasn’t a quiet “if you’re still watching, keep waiting,” so much as a shouted “hey we’re gonna do this thing, watch this!”

i guess destiel fans vs. those of us who don’t ship it really see this as fundamentally different. because you discuss that moment as one which requires follow-through, and say that if this were heteronormative m/f love declaration, there would be that expectation of follow-through. not necessarily reciprocity, but more - more conversation, more acknowledgment, more something.

(i mean - if there was more, but that more was “hey i love you too but only platonically, sorry man” would that be better?)

but no - i actually just... disagree with your point on that front. i can see why you feel the way you do and i acknowledge that it can be read as the start of a conversation. to me though -- and clearly, now that the finale is out, how the writers saw it -- that was actually the end of a conversation. the end of, like you pointed out, 12 years. a 12-year conversation that ends in a gorgeous declaration of love, and specifically how love isn’t about being together, it’s simply about being - it’s about the fact that you love someone, and that feeling alone is the most beautiful thing in existence.

to me, that declaration can only be written and interpreted as an ending.  a sacrifice, a declaration, and a goodbye. so - while i kind of expected seeing more people in episode 20 and realize that didn’t happen largely due to covid - i’m not disappointed we didn’t see cas, because that culmination of his narrative (and then knowing he was with jack, after, rebuilding the heaven that he rebelled against and finally completing his narrative circle by fixing all the problems with it alongside the good god he sought to find all along) is kind of perfect. 

and i genuinely don’t think if cas was in a female vessel this entire time that that would change. maybe some audience members would feel differently, but i think many of us would see it for the end it was nonetheless. there’s plenty of stories with m/f ships that are one-sided and that character sacrifices themselves for the person they love, so i don’t see why this would be any different (except the bury your gays issue, but that’s a whole other and very real conversation about media tropes).

moving on to the series finale.

As many people have pointed out in praise of 15x20, Sam is the absolute most important thing in Dean’s life, his priority above anything and everything… And yet there, at the actual end of the world, Dean ignores Sam’s call and instead cries over the loss of Castiel. Dean’s loss of Castiel plays in tandem with the loss of literally the whole world. But we’re not to take that as a promise that Castiel means more to this story, or to Dean, than a couple seconds of wistfulness after the dust settles?

I... yeah. i don’t see what this even is arguing. that dean taking a minute to himself to grieve his best friend, who just died in part because dean decided to go hunt down billie (who was literally dying anyway). he’s hurting. there’s nothing about this that’s a promise - it’s an end. it’s grief. it’s the horror of losing someone you care about, and the silence that comes after. it’s fundamentally human in it’s pain. and we, the audience, are invited to grieve with dean.

so I mean - of course cas means more to this story. of course he’s meant more than a few seconds of grief, after 12 years. but just because that’s the last time we see him on screen doesn’t mean we don’t value his story, and celebrate how it too came full circle.

You mention cas as a sort of avatar for a different potential ending for the brothers, and highlight him representing:

An ending where higher powers stop yanking them around and they get to actually live in the life they’ve built for themselves.

So while i never considered cas an avatar for that, i do think we all wanted the brothers to have their freedom. “finally free.” so we can agree on wanting that end. but we disagree on whether it was delivered, i guess? because i feel it was.

you also talk about what you and many other fans conceivably wanted a happier ending to look like. can i -- i’m going to be totally honest. i have not seen a single person who’s critiquing the end saying “i just wanted sam and dean to grow old hunting together with their dog until they retire together and die of old age.”

would that be satisfying to those who are mad about the end? i personally don’t think so, but maybe my opinion is being coloured by the most vitriolic fans i’ve seen. if sam and dean got to have the life they wanted free of chuck, and dean didn’t die, and they kept going (or retired and opened a bar together!). maybe sam still had a kid, but again because romance wasn’t the point, the wife wasn’t important and they left her blurry still so we could interpret ourselves if she was a wife or a co-parent or a surrogate or what. maybe dean has a kid too, with a similar question-mark-wife. maybe we get a few images of them having a holiday with jodie and the girls. and then getting to heaven together in old age, greeting bobby with a beer, and going for a drive.

would that be an end that wouldn’t cause fandom uproar? i would enjoy it, soft an slightly discordant as it would be to me. i prefer the ending we got, bittersweet and heartbreaking though it was, but i wouldn’t be taking to social media to yell about it if we got a softer epilogue, so to speak.

on the other hand... would that still not be enough, at least not for so many of the angry fans? i’m genuinely unsure. it seems to me that so much of the ire is about destiel itself, even if people are pretending it’s about more and other things than that. not everyone, but like, a big portion of them. which leads me to believe that nothing short of dean and cas at least interpretable as together is what they wanted. if every other single thing about the existing finale was the same except that cas was the one to greet dean instead of bobby, and even with the same basic dialogue, without discussing the confession, but they have a lingering smile, and dean leaves to drive and wait for sam with the promise he’ll see cas later - 

if everything else stayed the same except who greeted dean, i genuinely don’t believe i’d be seeing almost any critique of the finale on my dash. maybe i’m cynical, but that’s where i’m at.

which is part of why i really struggle to believe that people are engaging in good faith when they critique the finale. because i feel like if it offered them either a) everything they’re purportedly asking for but still no cas and zero hint of destiel, vs. b) every other thing they claim to hate stays the same except there’s a wink and nod to destiel - i believe they would take the wink and nod. 

   On to some other things you raised:

But how can you know to walk away from a tragedy if the tragedy says “the end won’t be a tragedy, keep watching” right up until it ends in tragedy?

Oh i Get this. I hate thinking i’m consuming fun media only for it to rip my heart out at the end. i’ve literally - well, i’ve had a very unpleasant and distressing experience of this, actually. so i get it. also the opposite: i sometimes feel disappointed when i’m consuming media that is gripping and intense and painful, but then the end is too easy, too soft and happy?

BUT - supernatural never pretended it would have a happy end? the end was so. much. happier. than i ever expected. the Swan Song end was going to have Sam in hell being tortured by lucifer for eternity. according to something i read which i am fundamentally too lazy to link because who knows if it would have turned out this way but -- kripke was apparently going to have Dean jump in the cage with him at that end, if the series ended on S5? the ‘horror’ ending. completely devastating sacrifice for mankind (sam), and completely devastating sacrifice for his brother (dean). just -- oof. even if that wasn’t the plan and the series would’ve ended as the episode did - sam was still in the cage and cas was off waging war in heaven and dean was living every day knowing he was alive and his brother was being tortured.

i’m sorry if you thought you were watching a happier show. i know how much that hurts. that doesn’t mean the story was actually that happy though. sometimes, it’s on us as consumers to acknowledge we were misreading the media. i’ve had to do this. it’s hard, it hurts, but it helps you consume things healthier. i’ve had to do this growing recently, and i’m better off for it.

regarding the specific manner of dean’s death - that’s really not what my post was about and i’m not gonna address it here. i’ve talked about it elsewhere and so have others, and @lovetincture‘s original post spelled it out beautifully, in how human it was. i have feelings on how and why i loved dean’s death, and why it was the absolute opposite of what Chuck’s ending was and what he wanted (no blaze of glory), but i’ll leave those for another time.

They cast aside all the relationships they’ve built. [...] They lost/walked away from the life and home they built in the bunker. Dean got a season 1 death. Sam got a season 1 life.

I feel that there is a very huge difference between regression and progression when it comes to cyclical storytelling. And that difference seems to be missing from the ongoing discussions i’ve seen about this in fandom.

Coming full circle to season 1 does not at all mean that the development is ‘undone’ or that the story has regressed or that anything has been lost or destroyed. It can mean that, if the storyteller doesn’t know what the hell they’re doing, but in this case i don’t (personally) feel it’s a fair critique.

Dean’s death might parallel his s1 not-quite death from Faith, but the s15 result of that death is night and day. Dean is no longer alone. Dean does not go up to a lonely heaven filled with bittersweet memories, where even his canonical soulmate and him have wide gulfs between the memories they fill their shared heaven with. Dean dies a hunter, but he dies a hunter who literally saved earth and changed heaven and gets to spend eternity with his brother, side-by-side and together without all the pain and miscommunication, and he gets to see his family and loved ones too. he died having literally made the world so much better.

even without that though?

his story comes full circle, but dean’s character development isn’t about his death, it’s about the fact that in the first several seasons dean could hardly admit he cared without acting like his teeth were being pulled. he was too afraid of abandonment to ask for someone to be by his side. he was too afraid of rejection to let anyone in. and in the end? he asks sam to stay. he tells him that he loves him. he pours his heart out and says all the things that 15 years ago were stoppered in his throat, words trying and failing to claw their way free but his hurt and fears were too deep.

dean is free.

the point of dean’s story coming full circle to season 1 parallels was specifically to highlight this incredible development, not to undermine it. he is different. he is free. 

god it makes me tear up just thinking about how happy i am for him despite how gutted i was by that scene??

(i could write a similar analysis for sam, about how he left for stanford to escape his life and how his finale life montage bits were the opposite of that, but honestly this post is long enough already).

Destiel is loosely a part of that promise in the sense that Castiel is a part of that promise. The symbol of free will

You make a super interesting argument about Cas being a symbol of free will. I don’t have much to say about it, because I’m gonna mull it over, because I think it’s kinda cool and I’ve never thought about it.

That’s - all i’ve got. thanks again for engaging. i’m happy to continue the convo if you have questions or want to reblog/reply 

(though my followers might hate me omg, i’ve been spamming long spn meta posts for weeks now, it’s just been so confronting to see the ongoing fan reaction on twitter and how divided it is...)

[beanenigma]

Tips for people who like to write by hand

So you’re an old timey writer who enjoys the feeling of paper as you breathe life into a story? Or, like me, you can’t use your phone at school and just wants to get some writing done while math class bores the others? 

Well, me too and I’ve come to your aid! I’ve done some pretty stupid things that costed me hours and hours of searching for lost scenes and struggling to find ideas I knew I’d written down so you don’t have to! 

Find the right notebook for you

By experience, notebooks take a long time to be filled. In good nanowrimo times, I take from 6 to 8 months to finish one. So you’ll be stuck with this guy for a long time. Make sure to pick one that you like and is right for your needs. I, for example, prefer spiral notebooks. You can rip out pages if you need to (if you mess it up, if someone asks you for one, if you just need a page to write down a grocery list or something, etc) and you can put a pen on the spiral. I also like having a pocket to put pieces of ideas I have. 

Some spooky stories about having the wrong notebook: 

I got stuck with a brochure old planner for two years. My mom didn’t use it in the year it was meant for, so I thought oh, it’s free real estate. As it turns out, it had really small space between the lines, so the pages would take forever to fill, it had all those day and hour numbers and the paper was really thin. It was terrible and it made writing terrible. It would have been a thousand times better if I just spent a few bucks on a regular notebook. 

More recently, I started using just the kind of notebook I like, a spiral notebook with a pocket. But I bought it a couple of years ago at a fandom event I attended and the cover was a personalized Divergent cover. At the time, I thought if was pretty cool and everyone would know the reference. But now it has aged so very poorly. The cover has blood all over it and it says “Faction Before Blood”. So now I’m scared to pull it out to write at uni and people will think I’m in a gang or something. 

Number your pages

I know, it sounds like a lot of work. But you can get a notebook with pages already numbered, number it yourself or do it like I do and number it every 10 pages (just because it’s easier). If you don’t feel like doing all of this repetitive work,  date your writing. It’s cool to see how much you progressed, how long you have been writing this project, when you had this idea, etc. One thing doesn’t have to exclude the other, but both methods serve the same purpose. 

And this purpose is to help you get an idea of how much you write (and feel good about your progress) and to help you organize yourself on all you’ve been writing. Which takes us to the next tip. 

Make the first page an index

Not only it will take the pressure off the first page, it will also help you so you don’t keep losing the awesome stuff you’re writing and forgetting it exists. Everytime you start a new scene or change projects, go to the index and write down the page or the date you started this new section. Since I number every ten pages, I find the first page with a number on it and start counting forward or back to the new page. But you can do it in any way that suits you. 

Make a random idea page 

It doesn’t have to be the second page (it usually isn’t for me), but it’s good to have one. Sometimes, in the middle of writing, you have that great idea for something you need to change on what you’ve already got, or you got a completely new insight. It’s good to have your idea page somewhere close you can just flip to, write it down and get right back to writing. And don’t go easy on that page! Write it diagonally, vertically, draw on it, anything. It’s just there to take out those ideas so you can take a look at it another time and not mess the flow you’re in right now. 

Keep your enemies close. And your pen even closer!

You know your favorite bic friend? It has a secret weapon just for you to use. That little flap of the cap? Use it to keep your pen always close. I normally put it on the spiral of my notebook. But if you have a brochure, you can put it on the cover. Sometimes it damages it a bit, but it’s a good trade for having it always ready for action. If you use moleskine, I saw that they normally have designated pen places. If they don’t, I have a tip for it just under this one! 

Take your time to find which kind of pen is your weapon of choice. Personally, I think nothing beats a black ballpoint pen. I know some people like fineliners for writing, but they make the other side of the paper all gross looking and I like to keep it clean. Plus, I write really small and fineliners often bleed in my handwriting. I took my time searching for my favorite brand and I settled on Molin ballpoint pens. 

I would recommend buying your favorite pens in bulk. Nothing is worse than pen hunting around when you have an urgent idea. I bought 50 pens for super cheap and I stack them EVERYWHERE. In all my bags, in my sketchbooks, in my bullet journal, in my writing notebook, in my drawers, anywhere I think it will be easy to find one when I need it ( also giving some to my friends who keep stealing my pens).

Crafting the perfect notebook

You don’t have to be a crafter to modify your notebook to better suit you! Find a ribbon anywhere in the house. Cut it to be a little longer than the book. Tape that bad boy to the inside of the back cover and everytime you stop writing, put that ribbon on the page you stopped. This helps you not to get lost in your previous writing and get right back to business when you resume.

Also, if you really like that moleskine vibe but don’t have the cash, just get a regular clothing elastic, make cut it just the size of the notebook and glue both ends to the inner part of the back cover. There you go! Now you can close it (and keep it closed).  

If you like post-its, you can take half of the block (or however many sheets you cant put in there and still close the notebook comfortably) and glue it to the inside part of the cover of your notebook so it will always be conveniently available for you.

If your notebook doesn’t have a place to put your pen on and you really don’t want to mess up the cover, you  take a small elastic (smaller than the pen) and tape (or preferably glue it) it to the back part of the notebook with both ends inside. There! Ready for the trip! Speaking of which...

Always carry your notebook with you

You never know when inspiration is going to strike. In class. At the bank. In a mall. Whenever you have a little time, you can write something. Or just take a look at what you’ve done and feel good about it. 

Not in the mood for writing? Edit. Reread what you’ve done and start finding what you want to change once you type it in.  When doing this, don’t be scared to cross out entire sentences and rewriting them on top. If it starts getting too messy, go to a blank page and rewrite the scene and you think it should have been done the first time. It seems counter-intuitive in a copy+paste kind of age, but I assure you it is worth it.

Typing your work

This is one of the biggest reasons I love writing in pen and paper. When you type, your first round of editing is done! 

Don’t zone out when typing. As I said, typing is your first round of editing. It is important to keep aware of all of the things you might have done wrong when writing. Some people say writing it on paper and then typing it is a waste of time. I say it saves time and lives. 

Keep it loose!

Just because you are writing in an actual physical book, it doesn’t mean you are writing a actual physical book. This is still your notebook and these are still your notes. So don’t be afraid to get messy. Write things out of order (seriously, it’s okay to not go chronological. i know it’s hard). Outline. Sketch. Tip-ex the whole thing. Get post-its on it. Take notes. Make genealogical trees. Draw maps. 

If you’re feeling down or uninspired, try very basic writing exercises: write what you see, what you feel, something to try and make you laugh or something to make someone cry. It’s your place to express yourself. And once you got those creative juices flowing, happy writing :)

I hope you enjoyed my tips and please, feel free to reblog this with your own tips and tricks. I’d love to hear them! And follow me for some more writing content! 

[alphaofdarkness]

not me here for the oc ask ! can't wait to answer the ones you asked me, tomorrow i have my exam and then i shall live again haha ! but now i'll ask you 1, 2, 17, 18, 19, 20 and 31 — i know, it is a lot ( you don't have to do them all 💕) , but i really want to know something more about your wonderful babies and Dany ofc ! I missed her sm during this semi-hiatus 🤧💕💕💕 hope you're doing fine, sending you lots of love 💞💕💘

@carmenio Edgy!! 🥺 so happy to hear from you! ✨ I love these kinds of asks, especially on my many, many OC babies! I hope these answers are good and interesting to thee! I’ll present more info on Dany to some way, some how cause I love her 😭💖

I have gone and included the other questions you asked as well! 🤗 Let’s dive in! 😳

1. Gone and Answered Here ! UwU

2. Do you have a personal favorite among your OCs?

Personal favorite is often shown in the one I draw the most lol, which for a long time was Danielle LWW, but just because she was also my wolfsona at the time. After I made my own personal one I think I went onto Sam for a good while, also eventually going to Dany from Bsd!

So a tie between two beautiful girls, Sam is definitely my favorite LWW Oc, she is just precious and the one I hold the most and most always feel terrible and bad when I put her through it TM. 

Also Dany is my self insert, U//w//U, she has definitely allowed me to slowly self love and allow me to appreciate myself, especially the parts of me I didn’t think to much about or consider so appealing, I think? She has definitely been changing gradually into more of myself since I first came up with her almost 2 years ago! Watch me slowly knock her down to my height of 4′9″, let her have her 3 inches for another year maybe lol.

My dearest Atsushi agrees lol ✨🐯

17. Any OC OTPs? 

👀 lol yesss~ so many and so many crack ships too, which I'll answer next 😂

I’ll just go on and list them off, plenty more of them but~:

DanyJay

SoraYama

LidiaTom

AlikLucy

IsabelleKayla

AlexanderIsabelle

DarkwolfmonJatomon

JatamonRaiwolfmon

EarthamonHounmon

HumaamonWolverimon

And lastly TakaSam is the one I have definitely drawn and thought of the most! They are the top OTP and just best trope of Childhood Friends to Lovers trope, also filling in that trope of Oblivious to both of them but everyone else 🙄. While SoraYama may have been the OG Couple in my story, my love and warmth for TakaSam is unmatched TwT.

It is wild cause I always draw anguish between them as could-have-been-lovers-had-it-not-been-for-death, but recently been drawing them purely happy and content. Total sweethearts, the love everyone wants, excluding possibility of being old friends or not!

18. Any OC crackships?

L o l, I never seem to focus on the main couples because of this specific thing.

I’ll again just go off in list an maybe add a trope or something to get an idea of them:

DanyYama: Rivals, Constantly arguing, and can be petty as heck, but oh the potential and just possibility of opening up after the traumaTM 👀 also the couple that is always in your face about being in a relationship.

DanySora: Sparing partners, the sass and stubbornness, BiPan solidarity 👀

DanyLidia: Pure, wholesome, best friends and so much hugging and lifting from the tol to smol, the nature love vibes

SamJay: Wholesome, soft, healing together from traumaTM, protectiveness, also their Digimon were lovers and married in their previous life, what does that make us? 😳

SamDany: Mostly sibling-like relationship, but damn they have that Sun and Moon tropes?! How can you not possibly ship them!

SamLula: Shy and Confident, Bisexual/Lesbian solidarity 💕✨

JaySora: Opposite of the DanyYama tropes, why are our partners constantly arguing, can they please stop, pure and soft together.

DanyTaka: Digimon Au specifically, Oh you and I are the voice of the revolution? We are rallying up the troops together? Oh boi my Digimon feels love for yours, am I falling for you or are we falling together? Depression buddies but also each others hope and spirit boost ;;w;;

Any of the Warriors with the Sins: A whole lo t of mess, and just not healthy ... but I can already seen fandom people sayin g otherwise~

LustWrath: Spicy, no strings attached kind of deal.

WrathEnvy: ...Oof um, not healthy, kind of manipulative, we are devils there is nothing but toxic vibes.

PrideWrath: Rulers, King and Queen vibes, Yeah we are toxic for each other, f*** off.

19. Introduce an OC that means a lot to you (and explain why)

Definitely Darkwolfmon! I am sure I explained in the first question why, but again I consider her to be that other half of me, the part of me I never discovered or the parts that essentially fill in the gaps within me. She is my precious partner Digimon and has honestly come a long, long way since I first created her. I believe sometime in 2009-2010, so almost 11-12 years since. She was the first ever OC of mine and is one I hold closest too in my heart.

For the longest time, even too now, I have always wanted her to just manifest at my side. Go on this journey of life together. While she might not be physically here like my child-self would want, she is still in my stories, my imagination, my inspirational drive. I think that is definitely more than enough, I don't know where or who I would be without having created her. I probably wouldn’t have a whole tale of OC’s and stories to tell if it wasn't for her. 

I am more than grateful and thankful that I am who I am because of this lovely Oc of mine. I can only hope to have her at my side for the rest of my days!

20. Do any of your OCs sing? If they sing, care to share more details (headcanon voice, what kind of songs they like etc)?

Most, if not all, my OC’s can sing! Their voices and tones vary, to which I cannot give a straight answer on how I headcanon most of their voices right now ^^; I will say that Danielle has a British accent to her voice as well as Spanish speak, and Sora has a Russian accent to her voice, so may be just lightly deep, but not to much.

I will definitely go with my Bsd Oc/Self Insert Danielle Mika Mason, however! Because I have gone and done a thing on how she would speak in her Japanese and English Dub! Other than me also being her voice, her Japanese VA would be Yui Ishikawa, same VA of the queen herself, Mikasa 💕 English VA would be Barrett Wilbert Weed, with an English accent, good Veronica from the Heathers! You can have a listen to her here in this post! 

Dany is meek when it comes to her singing, she will often be caught humming and softly singing something, but quickly tends to stop around others. She is often back and forth with how she sounds and often shuts down when she hears someone she considers better than her. She just needs some encouragement and a gentle push from someone she really cares about. When she does feel the push and genuineness from someone she will sing her heart out. But of course prefers to sing for only that one special person~ can ya guess~ 🐯

31.  Pick one OC of yours and explain what their tumblr blog would be like (what they reblog, layout, anything really).

Oh boi! I literally have moodboards to add to this! I pick Samantha, or Sam! 

She would totes have a Tumblr blog, and Instagram! You always look forward to see what she post and just feel an instant calmness and warmth when you see it! She is always tagging her things appropriately, a soft and warm spring like layout that is shades of yellows, golds, orange, white; an occasional blue and teal as well! She would reblog anything of her aesthetic, golds, yellows, dance and ballet related things (may even post videos or poses of herself in practice and dance related things), cafe shops, sweets and desserts, warm night lights, cats, lots and lots of cats and felines of all shapes and sizes! Her best friend/boyfriend, Takaru always cameos in her stories and posts 💖

She would also reblog or spread awareness of any issues happening in the world, marking them and making her own voice heard as well. In spur moments, you may see her not tag things, but will likely go back to name things accordingly. She would also reblog anything of Bi Pride too!

28. Your most dangerous OC? 

Hmmm,,, my most dangerous Oc, I am taking the notion that they are just plain dangerous and likely of evil intent in their actions. Because plenty of my Oc’s on their own are dangerous in their own right, such as the Legendary Wolf Warriors, who have a great power at their paws. They can be destructive in their actions if they lose control or use it for the wrong intentions, which they wouldn't do of their free will. 

I will say Danielle and Sam are the strongest of the seven, because of their powers of Darkness and Light, respectively. Their souls created the others, so the other Warrior’s power does not match theirs. They can definitely be lethal together if used for the wrong reasons or if they are under the control of a Human or Deadly Sin.

Which leads me to say that the most dangerous of my OC’s with the worst intentions and evil thought processes that makes them dangerous is likely the Deadly Soul Sin Pride, or Mikka Penelope King/Pride as her solid name goes. 

She is definitely the most sinister of the seven sins, even worse than Wrath, who you may figure would be the worst. She has a calculating mind and is very precise in her actions and ways of manipulation. She has a poison within her veins that is just as deadly, capable of blinding others or even killing without remorse or care. While she may be a ghost like entity in my stories, a person/digimon holder in my Digimon College Au, she has enough power to influence people to fall under pride and vanity in the most dangerous level possible, heck even possess them if she wishes. That makes her stronger, as well as the other sins. Does not matter if she is dead or fades away for a while, her influence remains and if it does, than she can exist for a long as she desires.

48. OC who is a perfect cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure

Lol I saw cinnamon roll and instantly had a list of ocs ready, honestly any child OC I have is instantly a cinnamon roll and to good and put for this world, please treat them all kindly!

Current top Oc’s that come to mind are Haruko Mason-Nakajima, along with their nameless sister/pup! They are the sweetest babies ever and love them so much. Too good and pure, especially nameless pup with her love for tigers; she wants to grow up and be like her sibling and papa 🥺🥰  You can see the post on them here!

Next up is my precious flamey boi named Alik Azure Mizuhara! A next gen. LWW, son of Sora and Yamato! A little sightless boi with the softest heart and warmest empathy for others. Very much like his mother in likeness and pure curiosity of the world’s secrets and tales. His father worries for him a lot, but gradually learns to trust in his ability to guide himself. Don’t worry too much about him, he is very smart and knows how to care and guide himself!

Thank you so much for the time and questions you asked me Edgy! I had so much fun with these and gave me a chance to gush about my dearest OC’s! I do hope you find them of interest! 🤗🥺🥰

May your day be beautiful and amazing!! 🥰✨💖

[seven-oomen]

Honey, honey | A Buddie One shot

Main ship: Eddie Diaz/Evan Buckley

Wordcount: +- 1600 words

Rating: PG-13, for language, abo mentions, and mpreg mentions

Warnings: Mentions ABO dynamics but isn’t explicit, language, mpreg mention but none of it is very graphic.

I’ve tried finding/writing sensible Spanish but I’m still learning the language so forgive me for making mistakes. I blame the duo lingo owl, he’s trying his best to teach me okay?

Based on the prompt: We've been living together for a few years now, your son calls me dad and recently you started calling me honey. But I never really connected the dots until after I posted a question online and a bunch of random strangers gave me advice. When I finally confessed my feelings for you, you told me you loved me and we've been dating since.

Based on the post: https://seven-oomen.tumblr.com/post/611873995367890944/adding-this-to-my-prompt-list-because-yeah-this

Tagging: @daughter-of-infinity​​ because I saw your reblog of that post and know you wanted a story like this.

He stared at the page before him, biting his lip as he pondered his next move. Was he really going to ask a bunch of strangers online a question like this? What if he was wrong? What if someone he knew found out? What if Eddie did…

But at the same time, he was tired of walking on eggshells. Of not knowing what was going on between the two of them. Don't get him wrong,  he wasn't against Chris calling him papa or against Eddie calling him cariño. Whatever that meant. But it was weird that everything had changed so gradually. He almost hadn't noticed it really, until Tia,  Eddie's aunt, had said something about Eddie finally finding a good Alpha to raise Christopher with at the last family gathering. She had looked fondly at Buck whilst she said it. And that got him thinking. Did she think Eddie and him were dating?

Wait...

Were they?

And so, here he was. Sitting in front of his computer, staring at the Reddit ask page in front of him.

Oh, fuck it. He was already here, might as well ask some random strangers on the internet what was going on. Surely it wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass.

He started tying.

Firehose asked a question:

What does it mean when someone changes what they've always called you?

I've (31AM) been living with my roommate and best friend (37OM) and his 11-year-old son for three years. We've been through so much together,  from earthquakes and the tsunami to a lawsuit and some bullshit with his late wife and other craziness. For us, that's just on the daily.  It happens. But it did forge a really strong friendship between us.

I care a lot about my friend and his son, to me they're family and I'd die to protect them and keep them safe. And I know he'd do the same for me. We're best friends and partners on the job but lately, he's been telling me that "I'm the best thing that's ever happened to him."

And I noticed his family has been smiling at me differently lately. I've been going to family meetings for two and a half years and consider them my family but the air seems to have changed, it's almost even warmer. I didn't think that was possible.

Anyway, I've noticed more things lately.  Like how my friend calls me cariño, I honestly don't know what that means,  and his son started calling me papa about a year ago. Which is absolutely adorable and something I encouraged, I'll admit.

But the cariño thing is bothering me as my friend smiles at me and touches my cheek when he says it. Now, we've always been very tactile in our friendship and we're completely comfortable around each other but this made me feel a bit weird. Not bad weird, just something that makes me feel something but I don't know what or why.

I just don't know what this means and I don't know how to respond to it except smile at him. Cause it does feel kinda nice. I don't know how to talk to him about it, we've never discussed our sexualities. Honestly, I'm still not sure of mine.

We've just always been really close,  shared a bed during nightmares kinda close but I honestly don't know how to breach the subject with him. Am I reading too much into this? Am I dating my best friend without knowing it? Honestly, any kind of advice would be appreciated at this point. I don't want him taking this the wrong way.

TLDR: My best friend calls me cariño and his son calls me papa. I don't know why and I'm too scared to ask. I feel a lot of things but I don't know if either of us is bisexual or gay. I don't know what to do with myself. Should I ask him if he has feelings for me?

The next few days were filled with responses from Reddit. All of them pretty much said the same thing. Just ask him out already. Talk to him. Or oh my god, you are totally dating, you dingus...

So he figured he might as well take the next step. He asked Eddie that night after they put Christopher to bed.

They were watching tv together on Eddie’s bed, a beer in hand and shoulders touching.

“So- you know how you always call me cariño? What does that mean?” He asked.

Eddie gave him a rather amused look and chuckled. “It means darling or sweetheart, maybe honey, you know. It’s a term of endearment. I thought you knew that?”

The Omega cocked his head at him and scooted closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. And it felt nice to be held, so he couldn’t help but relax in his hold, laying his head on Eddie’s shoulder as he stared at his beer bottle.

“I-” he bit his lip- “I didn’t. And I just- I don’t know. It’s confusing... “

“What is?” Eddie genuinely looked concerned. He felt terrible for causing it and he wanted nothing more than to hug his best friend and press a kiss to those lips.

Fuck.

“I- are we- Eddie are we dating?”

Eddie looked at him as if Buck had gone insane and snorted. “Excuse me? What do you-” Realization seemed to set in as Buck only looked more confused at Eddie’s amusement. “Oh, you stupid bastard…” Eddie chuckled, “Buck, we’ve been dating for two years.”

It was like a floodgate had opened and another realization came over him. The handholding, laying in bed together on most nights, taking care of Christopher, Buck coming with them to family gatherings, Eddie coming to him for comfort or affection. Holy shit... How had he missed all of that?

Neither of them had dated anyone else in the last three years, he hadn’t even looked at anyone. The only people he really wanted to spend his time with were Eddie and Christopher. Hell, they went to the zoo together, to the movies, they went out for dinner- just the two of them- in fancy restaurants even.

And it had never clicked. Not even once.

“Shit…” He looked up at Eddie in surprise before breaking out in one of his trademark beaming smiles. “Guess we have been.”

Eddie gently put both their beers on the nightstand beside him and pulled Buck closer, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“Eres corto de luces, pero te amo de todos modos.” Eddie mumbled, shaking his head. (You are not the brightest bulb, but I love you anyway.)

“And that means?”

“That you’re stupid but I love you.”

He couldn’t help but smile at those words, gently cupping Eddie’s cheek as he pressed his lips against the Omega’s. “At least I’m your idiot,” He murmured.

“That you are.”

-

UPDATE: What does it mean when someone changes what they've always called you?

TLDR: You were all right and I was dating my best friend without realizing it. But guess what? We talked and now we’re married with three kids. Crazy what a year can change, huh?

So yeah, you guys haven’t heard from me in a year but I decided it was time to let you all know what happened between me and my best friend. So we talked that night after I posted my original story. Turns out I was dating him all along and never put two and two together. Until he did it for me. We talked that night and some other stuff and decided to take the next step together.

Naturally, everyone I knew had a good laugh about that one. Apparently, there was a betting pool on when I would realize I was dating my roomie. My sister won that one by the way.

So within the week my friend and I were engaged. He asked me, with some help from his son. It was adorable, really. He set up this really nice picnic for the three of us in the park, near the lake where we like to hang out on our days off. And he had his son come up to me to show me something he caught. (We both like insects, it’s kind of our shared thing.)

Turns out, our son was actually holding a ring. An engagement ring. And when he handed me the box, my friend took my hand, kissed it and asked me to marry him.

So of course, I said yes. We got married about six months after that. But it turns out that our night of ‘talking’ had some unforeseen consequences, and my husband was six months pregnant with twins when we walked down the aisle.

Yeah, so we married and two months later our son and our daughter were born. Our daughter in an elevator during a power outage and our son in an ambulance, on the way to the hospital. Because nothing in this family ever goes as planned it seems.

It’s been a wild year and if I think about it, I have all of that thanks to you guys. So thank you, for helping me realize what I had all along.

-

He finally closed his laptop and looked over to where Eddie was sleeping on the couch, Robert and Rosalie on his chest as they napped. Chris was silently drawing some pictures next to him at the table and grinned when he noticed Buck was looking.

Yeah it had been a crazy year all around, but truth be told, he would do it all over again.

-

So let me know what you all think of this one, would love to hear it. I very much enjoyed writing this. It was fun to just let my thoughts go and not worry about writing something good. I had fun and it made my day a bit brighter. And honestly, I hope it does that for other people too. So let me know if it did for you <3

[persephone-victorious]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you. Learn to know your mutuals and followers 💙💙

I got this from a few other people as well and I want to say thank you to everyone who reached out to me and asked me this! I’m sorry that I haven’t answered sooner. Who would’ve guessed that taking on a third job would mean I wouldn’t have time to do anything else?? 

OK, my five happy things: 

My ballet class. I took ballet all through childhood up into my teens and am just now revisiting it so many years later. I will never be a prima ballerina, I’m not great at it, but it keeps me active and engages both my mind and my body. It’s so difficult that I don’t have time to stress or worry or think about ways that I could be working. Sometimes, it’s so difficult and I have to be so focused, I can be standing in one place, trembling and sweating. It’s amazing. I highly recommend ballet for anyone looking for a mental and physical challenge. I can go on...

Lipsticks. I’ve only got one life, two lips, and like five thousand lipsticks. I have a tiered box that’s separated by color and use that I call my lipstick museum. I have another giant storage bin in my closet that’s full of nostalgic lipsticks from the mid-90s and beyond. 

Animals. I just love animals so much! I have some cardinals that come to my back door that I’m obsessed with and I love my sweet(ish) tortie cat, Sassafras aka Sassy. If you read my stories, I always end up putting lots of animals in them. I pretty much only don’t like three animals -- seagulls, roaches, and pandas. At least seagulls and roaches contribute to the ecosystem. 

Being creative. I’ve been talking to a friend of mine recently about stories I used to write. All of these old things I wrote or should have written have been bubbling up to the surface of my brain and I’m kind of amazed by how much was there. But you see, I gave up writing and drawing 10 years ago. I don’t know how to put it but I had an event (sounds so dramatic) and I became EXTREMELY depressed and decided to give up on doing anything creative. I was someone (and still am!) who couldn’t live without creating, had been drawing and making up stories since I could communicate. It was like I was killing my spirit and my soul. And then I saw LND IRL in 2017 and became struck by a bolt of inspiration. (About 99% of my main stories that I’m writing came to me all at once; it’s just been taking me forever to write it out) I told myself “Just one little fanfic. Fanfics don’t count. Fanfics are just dumb little drabbles and it’s nothing serious and it doesn’t mean anything”. And it’s just kept going. It makes me really happy. I kick myself wondering how far along in my abilities I could’ve been or if I would’ve been published by now if I had kept creating. So learn from my mistakes and don’t try to drown out whatever it is that your spirit wants to do -- dance, sing, write, draw -- even if you’re not good at it. Make progress every day. Find joy in the process. 

My friends! I have wonderful friends in my life -- and I’ve made some great friends here! The fact that you guys took the time to ask me this question means a lot to me and I appreciate it. I’m sorry if I’m not always around to chat with everyone, and I’m taking steps to take more time for myself and stop working so goddamn much, but I truly appreciate our friendship

Thanks again for the ask and thank you to anyone who takes a moment to read my opinions. 

[knking]

I just got a question for the creator, so I just found ur comics and art through Vade pretty recently, ie they posted a dub of ur TOMR comic(I so wish they would do more dubs of it), & Ive been loving it,been reading all the comics, and looking at all the memories and items stuff (like the Key), & Ive been loving how how ur expanding on everything like magic and characters, & Im always excited to see more, Im just curious, how do u make such quick uploads/ updates, how do u keep such a schedule?

That’s a very nice message :0

I am the creator of that said comic, and I saw the dub and it was amazing ! I’m not really bothered by them not making another dub, my comic isn’t the best and I’m sure they got better comic to dub out there :D!

And thank you so much for the compliment that’s really kkind of you, I’m really surprised you went throught all the TOMR stuff, that’s a lot of things and I’m so happy you did it. I thought it would be something not that interesting… but I guess I’m not that boring after all :DDD !!! I even uploaded the update of the Soul Key today, and I’m really surprised you saw it before I made a reblog about it .

TOMR is something pretty big and I know that’s a lot of read/understand. The story is really big, and the lore too. And you have no idea how much I appreciate the fact that you read everything, from the memories to the references xD.

And I do try my best to make all the comic work together, with magic and logic everywhere. I hope it’s not too confusing tho xD, because it’s really hard to make people understand everything I want tthem to understand, and that’s why I made a comic, to learn how to make things clear and understandable through comic, either a text, an expression or the couleur theme/ambiance of a scene. I’m trying my best and I hope it pays off :DDD

And yeah, you’re on the holidays time on my blog, which means a loooot of drawings and pages everyday. But I usually keep 2 pages a week on wednesday night ((France time zone :pp)). This time is an exception, I got all day to draw and do stuff and I’m so grateful for it

And if you wonder how lond do I have to draw for a page, I do them 2 by 2 to make sure every post with double pages is interesting on its own and give informations himself. 

Two pages takes 30 min of planning, the pannels, the texts, write it down, moves the dialogues, rethink the text, make it better, shorter, longer and all in between.

Then the skecth, if I have a clear idea 5 min is enough, when it’s more complex it can go up to 1 hour xD. And then the lineart approximatevly 1 hour. 10 min of background. And coloring + shading + Lighting takes arround 30 min to 1 hour.

So a normal page takes up to 3 hours on itself, but when it’s an important one with a lot of text or complex poses / background, it can go up to 6 hours of work.

Thank you so much for this ask, I’m so grateful for having readers kind enough to send me this type of asks with such a nice message !

Have a good day/night  (◕ᴗ◕✿)

[wakasagayhime]

very long, very personal post

tldr, im still not drawing but here’s a detailed account of everything that’s happened in case anyone is confused or misinformed

alright. let me start out by saying i’m not going back to art just yet. it still hurts to do anything art related and i’m still trying to find a way to heal from all of this. i need some kind of professional help first, and i don’t know how long it’ll take afterwards for me to begin feeling like myself again. i don’t even know if i’ll be able to get any kind of professional help at the moment; my university’s counseling center told me, in short, that i’m so mentally ill that their services would not be enough for me and i’d have to look elsewhere (which is reasonable, tbh, they’re almost always completely booked so it’s difficult to actually even talk to someone there in the first place, i only got to talk to them to begin with because i nearly killed myself one night after having the most intense panic attack of my life where i felt like i was actually in the process of dying) and as if that weren’t enough, if you follow me on twitter you’d know that my mom finally left my stepdad, but this means that we no longer really have a home to call our own and are now living with some of my mom’s friends. on the bright side, miso is a lot freer and gets to explore the house as he pleases, but on the downside money is tight and my mom is trying her best to find a place to live while working two jobs and trying to help pay for my tuition. long story short, i want some kind of professional help badly, but all the bullshit that’s been happening in my life makes that difficult. 

anyway, i understand that i’ve worried a lot of people through all of this, and i’m sorry. i truly, genuinely am sorry for everything that’s been going on. i blame a lot of it on myself not being strong enough. if i were stronger, i wouldn’t care about some stupid internet trolls, or some random grown man in florida stalking all my social media. if i were stronger, i could take my life back. i wouldn’t feel the need to constantly contemplate suicide, or to torture my own body by starving because of my physical form feeling like the only thing i have left to be in control of. if i had only been stronger, like my old stupidly foolish overconfident 16 year old self who got into fucking STEVEN UNIVERSE DISCOURSE of all things, maybe i wouldn’t care. even when it first happened to me, after the initial shock and hiatus, i was pretty much back to normal almost instantly.  but this kind of trauma is sneaky and will gradually eat away at you more and more while you pretend to be ok, and then eventually you reach a breaking point and it’s taken over your life. that’s why i’m still obsessing over that day two years later. that’s why i can’t be left alone on december 13th this year, or else i know for a fact i will harm myself in some way. (don’t worry about that though, burger is going to hang out with me that day and i’ll be fine.) still, even though i keep telling myself my past self was stronger, i do know that she really wasn’t. she was still struggling with depression, anxiety, and self harm issues. maybe it just manifested differently for a while. maybe she felt unstoppable at some point in time because she finally found a girlfriend and got a cat. i got into so many fights that weren’t worth my time or energy at all, and part of me wishes i could be that confident again, but i also know that was my downfall to begin with.

i have followers who haven’t been around for longer than a year or maybe less than two, so i might as well give everyone a true, thorough rundown of what happened leading up to that day, the day of, and after. 

i’m sure a lot of you who are worried about me at the moment have seen the recent callout for colboh and his involvement in what happened. i’ll be honest--i don’t know the full extent of his involvement, and i want to believe his foolishness ends at not leaving artists who have blocked him alone and uploading their shit to booru sites when they explicitly state not to. so let’s just start there. i honestly don’t remember if it was before or after i first blocked him, but he uploaded one of my NSFW drawings to danbooru when i first shared my NSFW blog. (PROTIP: if you’re a minor, don’t share your NSFW art with anyone. don’t care if you’re 17, i was about to turn 17 myself. it will bite you in the ass. as such, some of this is my fault.) i quickly contacted danbooru asking them to delete it, and they did--but that artwork subsequently ended up on gelbooru as well, and i was unsuccessful in my efforts to remove my art from there.  

fast forward to december 13th, 2016. it was a normal morning. i was getting ready for school, but also being dumb and lazing around in bed browsing tumblr. i saw a post from a blog that shares Funny 4chan Screencaps. my art was in it. the art was of a very muscular yuugi, a drawing i was proud of, especially in how much gay energy i thought it radiated--but this drawing was being used in one of those typical “here’s a touhou, i wanna fuck her! am i right guys? let’s talk about how badly we want to fuck her” threads. seeing my art used for this was appalling. my first mistake was reblogging the post and saying how it was wrong, and how my art shouldn’t ever be used for such a purpose. my second mistake was making a text post AND tweets expressing my disgust at the situation, thinking no one who frequented /jp/ would ever see, sure that it would be a big waste of their time to concern themselves with some random dumb “”sjw��” artist. i also probably shouldn’t have specifically called them “gross neckbeards,” in doing so i absolutely struck a nerve with basement dwellers everywhere. i got to school and during my second period class, suddenly felt a strange urge to look at /jp/. why i did that, i still don’t really know. maybe i was expecting hate. maybe i was trying to see if they used my art for something gross again. i don’t know. either way, that moment changed everything forever. i saw the screencap of my tweets posted for everyone in their  circlejerk to see. even worse--i looked in the thread, and someone had also posted the NSFW art colboh had uploaded to danbooru, mocking it and calling me a hypocrite for drawing two girls having sex while also saying i don’t like my art being used for those kinds of threads. this is what truly ignited the amount of hate i saw directed towards me in the threads. i got called a bitch, a drama whore, got told to kill myself, and in one reply etched into my mind forever, someone said something along the lines of “we should all call her local gang and have them rape her, she just needs a good dicking.” there were multiple threads, too; i don’t know how many, but there was another one about me after the first one was deleted, in which someone edited a typical fat balding NTR hentai doujin style man into art i made of kagerou nosebleeding at wakasagihime. more disparaging comments were made. in both threads, people expressed their hatred and dislike of my art, some calling it garbage, some just saying it’s “bad,” etc. some people said the threads were unnecessary and rude, but they were a kind few in a cesspool of violence.

i don’t know who started these threads. i can’t assume anything about anyone, but whoever did this was definitely looking through all my social media out of bitterness and hatred, or perhaps even following me on both my tumblr and twitter considering the timing of the threads immediately after i complained. it eats at me that i most likely will never know who did this to me. i’ll never know who hated me so much that they decided to completely destroy my self esteem. if whoever it is who did all of this is reading this and feels any ounce of remorse, i’m begging them to reveal themselves and why they did it, but i know the chances of that happening are incredibly slim. someone, i can’t remember who, maybe it was queenly, told me they hope someday i reach a point where i don’t have to worry about that because i won’t care in general, but i still don’t know if i’ll ever reach a point where i stop caring about all of this.

like i mentioned earlier, after this all first happened, i was destroyed. the next day, my school’s GSA happened to have a vote for whose art would be on the club t-shirts, mine or someone else’s. mine lost. i broke down completely--anywhere i went, i wasn’t good enough, not for anyone. for days, there was a constant feeling of horror and fear  in my chest, something i’ve only ever felt so intensely when one of these threads resurfaces or i suddenly relive my trauma due to other things triggering me. i took a hiatus that lasted a few weeks, i believe i came back sometime before the new year. i thought i was ok, and i pretended like i could go back to being myself. but as time went on, and i continued living with the weight of that day on my back, i became weaker and weaker. i stopped drawing as frequently as i used to. my final year of high school started and i ended up falling into such a deep depression that i constantly skipped school and eventually attempted suicide in november 2017.  the suicide note i wrote cites that day as being one of the main things leading me to my decision, telling whoever did this to me that i hoped in my passing they’d have to live knowing what they did to me. my attempt only failed because i swore to take every pill left in the bottle and there were only four pills. had it been full, i’m not really sure what would have happened. i was sent to a mental institute afterwards for a week. being there was the absolute definition of hell. i was alone. i cried myself to sleep every night. they claimed to be a place where people were improved and got help, but i did not get any help at all. they basically imprisoned me for trying to kill myself. when i got out, i was only glad to be alive because i just wanted to be able to talk to my friends, my family, and my girlfriend again. it still shocks me that i was able to graduate from high school considering how much school i skipped before and after my suicide attempt.

sometime before that school year ended, i became extremely upset one afternoon and decided to run away from home. i had what happened to me and what was said about me that day running through my head. i tweeted that i hoped maybe in running away i’d end up being raped like they wanted, like how i deserved. someone who i considered a friend replied to this with, “fuck you.” after all of this was taken care of and i was safe at home, i responded that i was sorry, that i wasn’t thinking right when i made the tweet. she responded that i was, and blocked me. i tried to explain that i said what i did because of the threads about me on /jp/ and the one response threatening rape, but this was disregarded and, seemingly, ignored. a few days later, the former friend in question started sending me anon hate on tumblr, asking me why i want attention so badly, accusing me of making light of actual rape victims by saying such a thing. i explained myself, but to no avail. i blocked her on tumblr, and left it at that. but then, at the end of the school year, when i was proud of myself for finally getting through high school without killing myself or failing or anything, i stumbled upon the second thread. the date the thread was created lined up exactly with the time between me running away from home and me receiving anon hate. she can try to act like she didn’t make the thread all she wants, but i’m not an idiot. the replies were also eerily similar--people in the replies remembered me, a year and a half after the original thread. some replies mentioned me having attempted suicide months before. some mentioned my NSFW art again. i had a massive breakdown and nearly drowned myself in the pond down the road. it was a wet, rainy night, and i sat on a bench by the pond sobbing loudly, trying to find some way to want to keep living. but i couldn’t. i might have gone through with it if it hadn’t been for burger coming and talking to me and giving me a ride home.

entering college, i thought things would be easier. in a way, they are. i have more freedom with classes. this semester, i attended almost all of my classes, almost every day, just with the exception of me being sick some days and me accidentally oversleeping once, and then one day when i just didn’t feel like it. but things continued to get worse for me--i developed an eating disorder for many reasons, one being the time i spent a year prior depressed caused me to gain a significant amount of weight, and the other being i had sworn off self harm in the form of cutting. i found that i was able to get the same gratification from starving myself. at one point, it turned into a game of sorts, where i tried to see how long i could go without eating anything. my record was a little over 72 hours. being constantly hungry or in pain this way felt like something i deserved in a way, but also something to distract me from the pain of realizing i was losing my love for art. i was in denial about it for months. i tried to keep drawing, but everything i drew upset me, saddened me, and even angered me. i looked at anything i made and only felt disgust. it was the one thing i used to love doing more than anything, and now i only felt shame. 

in november, i acknowledged this and decided to quit for good. recently, i discovered colboh had uploaded more of my NSFW art to gelbooru, even though i specifically stated on my blog to never upload my NSFW art to image sharing sites, specifically right after he uploaded my art the first time. by the time i found this, i had already sworn off art for good, but looking at the comments on my art on gelbooru (and rule 34--i guess they’re connected upload-wise like danbooru?) filled me with so much sadness and shame, not because they criticized my art, but because they said horrible things about my depiction of kagerou. for those who don’t know, i headcanon kagerou as a trans woman, and one thing i do not regret about my time as an artist is how that depiction has helped numerous trans women feel good about themselves and their bodies. seeing so many disgusting comments deliberately misgendering her and making other transphobic remarks hurt me on a completely new level. my trans friends have been such a source of strength for me through all of this and seeing that made me feel disgusted, especially with myself. i felt like i had failed them. i had made so many trans women happy, only to see a man i blocked two years ago had uploaded my art to porn sites, tagging it with dehumanizing words like “f*ta” that i specifically tell people never to refer to my art with, displaying that art for the exact same crowds of people that ruined everything december 13th 2016 to continue to pick apart. one comment even told me to kill myself, effectively bringing back every memory of that day. 

speaking of that, another thing i want to touch on now that i’m up to speed with the details of everything that’s happened related to the original threads two years ago, is kagerou. i’m positive you all know that i really love kagerou imaizumi, and that she’s my favorite touhou character. it’s embarrassing to say, but she’s brought me so much comfort through all of this. sometimes if i’m sad, i’ll imagine her giving me a big hug, or i’ll look at cute pictures i have saved of her, or something along those lines. it’s pretty cringy for a fictional character to make me happy, i know, but i’ve grown so attached to her and she really means a lot to me. and another thing that made me want to swear off art is because she’s loved by so many others that i don’t think my depictions of her do her any good. i’m constantly compared to other artists, and it’s never good. even in the threads, i’m told i should be more like those other artists and these things wouldn’t happen to me. i am not allowed to love kagerou imaizumi. i draw her as a hairy trans lesbian, and that disgusts people. hell, the fact that i draw lesbians in general disgusts people, which sure fucking sucks because i constantly hate myself for not being attracted to men and being able to draw happy lesbians made me feel better about myself. but i’ve ruined kagerou for so many people, especially with my stupid kagewaka bullshit. maybe that’s why those artists unfollowed me. maybe it’s a combination of that and my constant breakdowns becoming far too annoying. i think all the popular artists who used to like me and then unfollowed/softblocked me are really glad to see that i’ve given up. and that’s something else that saddens me too--even as an artist, in my own community of touhou artists, i often feel like i’m lesser, and that i don’t belong. maybe it’s because i’m so foolishly outspoken about my opinions that they dislike me. maybe it’s because i’m a woman, and a lesbian at that. i don’t really know why they hate me so much. i wish i could belong somewhere.

and i think that’s what it all boils down to in the end. i’ve lost all sense of belonging. when i was 14 and people started noticing my art for the first time, i finally felt like i had something. like i belonged somewhere. after being bullied through middle school and having to deal with abusive friends and an abusive dad, it meant the world to me that i finally had something. but it didn’t last long at all. it all came crashing down, not just because of others, but because of me. i was the one who was cocky, getting into fights that weren’t worth it. i was the one who provoked people and made them hate me. i was the one who complained about /jp/ posting my art in their threads. i know people want to believe that i’m a saint, but i’m not. i have myself to blame too. i at least want everyone to understand this, above all else. there was so much i could have done differently to prevent this all from happening, but i didn’t. i was stupid and naive. i was a massive fucking idiot, and now look where i am. i lost everything. i thought i had friends, i lost them. i thought i loved art, i lost that. i thought other really talented nice people liked me, i even lost that. all i have now is an empty shell of my former self. i don’t know what to do with it. i don’t know how i’m going to rebuild myself. it’s so painful to have to keep living like this. i don’t know if there’s any fixing me at this point. i’ve lost so much, i feel permanently broken.

but despite all of that, despite everything i’ve been through, i still receive so much love and support from my followers and friends and it means so much to me. it means the world to me and has kept me going through all of this. knowing that people care about me and want to see me get better and improve makes me want to try to fix myself even if i am broken beyond repair. i just want to thank you all for being that source of strength for me. these past few years have been so hard for me and time and time again i still get love and encouragement from so many people. from the bottom of my heart, thank you. there is nothing more precious to me than those moments when i feel like i do truly belong, when i feel loved, when i feel like i’m not alone after all. for those moments, i’ll keep trying. even if these threads keep continuing and breaking me further, i’ll keep trying. even if every last artist in this fandom comes to hate me and my shitty art, i’ll keep trying. it’s still painful to draw right now and i have a long way to go before i can share art with anyone again, but for you all, i’m going to keep trying my best. at the end of the day, i know everyone’s encouragement and love is worth far more than hate threads urging me to kill myself. 

i’m sorry how long and personal and unnecessary this is, but i felt like i had to set things straight. if you read all of this, i applaud you. if you just kinda skimmed through to read the last paragraph, i also appreciate it. again, thank you. 

[terfslying]

What is the deal with the NLPB situation? A compilation of all the evidence I’ve ever found

A lot of us in the antiterf community are rightly skeptical of accepting outright claims that individual trans women are predators based on minimal evidence. So lets examine the @nerdylilpeebee situation in a bit of depth!

tl;dr - the evidence of NLPB’s supposed pedophilia is well and truly blown out of proportion and I think we can safely say that NLPB does not create, reblog or distribute drawn child pornography.

Here is every accusation I have found through my own blogs and the tags (I have edited to remove misgendering because this is my post, I am Queen here):

our-common-condition (in reblog): Nerdylilpeebee is the new blog of Lolivampirequeen, who was responsible for posting lolicon, shota, and other drawn pedophilia.

anticoincidencecircuit (in PM to me): I don’t have sources for Nerdylilpeebee being a pedo except for some old tumblr callouts for [her] old screenname on against-map blogs.

anonymous ask to me: isn’t Nerdylilpeebee that Lolivampirequeen pedo?

anonymous ask on witches-against-maps (tagged “lolivampirequeen”): big head’s up to all anti-terf bloggers, there is a user named lolivampirequeen who will join in your fight against exclusionary feminism who will pretend to be your friend, then send you lolicon images (cartoon pedophilia). block and report everyone!

uteri-my-duderi post (tagged “nerdylilpeebee”): Nerdylilpeebee is [...] a pedophile. Those screenshots were just the tip of the fucking iceburg (sic). Don’t bother deleting.

Discyours also had a high-profile about-face on the situation recently, after mostly disregarding the rumours. I suspect everyone has already seen the post. Here’s an excerpt:

NLPB: These blogs? I followed thinking there was no NSFW. I don’t look at them much, but stuff pops up on my dash. I reblog the cute stuff I find. If that makes me a pedo, then whatever.

Discyours: but you said you’ve seen “questionable” stuff [once or twice]. That doesn’t disturb you? Doesn’t even make you unfollow?

NLPB: It disturbs me, yeah. But I’ve kinda learned to ignore it. In the anime community, it’s rare to find cute stuff without pervy stuff following closely nearby. If I want [to follow] the cute stuff, I have to put up with the mild NSFW. […] I never said it was nothing or that it doesn’t matter. I said that it’s currently a reality you have to deal with in the anime community. Densensitization comes with the territory.

Discyours: Desensitisation to the sexualisation of children

NLPB: Yeah. It bothers me too, but yeah.

The images shown in the callout post after that fact were not images that NLPB posted or interacted with; they were images produced by users who had produced SFW images that were rebogged by NLPB.

So what do these accusations say?

Nerdylilpeebee allegedly has been responsible for drawn lolicon images

Nerdylilpeebee allegedly creates and sends lolicon images to antiterfs who trust her

Nerdylilpeebee allegedly follows and tolerates creators shotacon/lolicon images, although she may avoid reblogging NSFW images

So knowing that all of this has been accused, where is the evidence? NLPB’s blog is still the original lolivampirequeen blog just renamed, so you can go through and look at all her old posts. Having done that, it seems like there are 2 images that NLPB has had major criticism for.

The first one shows an anime image of a well-endowed woman in a bikini, flashing by pulling her skirt down and her top up. NLPB’s comment was: I don’t know about anyone else, but if a girl just straight up did this with me right in front of her, I’d be like, “Um….. What are you doing?” And I’d be blushing as red as a tomato. XD

Is it sexualised? Yes.

Is the sexualised body a child? No, that’s pretty clearly a mature woman’s body.

Is the outfit possibly a school uniform? I’d say so, yes.

Are sexy school uniforms on adult women a well-established phenomenon? Also yes, they’re commonly sold in all costume shops.

The second one shows two anime people (one seems to be a teen girl and the other an older woman). The teen girl is hugging the older woman, with her face well and truly in the woman’s ample bosom.  NLPB’s comment was: My fantasy dream world. XD definitely. This is exactly what I’d want to do if I was an anime character.

Is it sexualised? Kind of - the breasts of the adult woman are clearly sexualised even though the pose is not a sexual invitation like in the first image

Is the sexualised body a child? No, the sexualisation focuses on the mature woman’s breasts.

Is the outfit of the younger character somewhat risque? Yes

Is the use of absurdly-short-skirts in “magical girl” anime a well established trope that is based on the fact that japan culturally tends to finds short skirts more acceptable than western nations? Also yes.

(Edit: I have since been told that the “younger looking” character is an adult woman goddess character with a “waif” appearance)

What do we actually have evidence for, here?

NLPB reblogs anime which may sexualize adult women

NLPB follows some anime blogs for fanart which occasionally post fanart featuring young characters that is too sexual for some people’s comfort - however these anime blogs still do not feature shotacon, lolicon, or drawn pedophilia.

Some people might still have a problem with #2. That’s your own personal business, if you want to not interact with someone for their anime tastes, you do you. But that is several worlds away from NLPB actively creating and distributing lolicon and pedophile images, as she has been accused of. Additionally, here’s a conversation I had with NLPB earlier today after seeing some rude comments towards her from radfems:

Me: I don’t personally like that anime style [that you reblog] and I do find the fandom a bit overly sexualised in some ways. It’s also absolutely not pedophilia. They’re treating all that anime as if it’s all secretly Boku no Piko or something which is bizarre.

NLPB: What is Boku no Piko???

Me: It’s an actually pedophilic hentai. Was a meme for a while ages back.

NLPB: [...] I think I saw the name on here once. But I still never knew what it was. It’s pretty gross that anime like that is allowed to exist, tbh.

So here is what we should take away from this situation:

There is no evidence that NLPB is responsible for drawing or distributing pedophilia images, either publically on her blog or directly in PMs

There is no evidence that the risque anime images NLPB has posted in the past are sexualising children in any specific way

There is no evidence that NLPB is tolerant of actual child pornography or explicit shotacon; she has stated she is desensitized to the potential sexuality of the girly anime genre images. She did not state that she is desensitized to actual pedophilic images.

NLPB is not knowledgeable about very infamous pedophilic hentai videos and images, and also disapproves of them strongly.

Obviously if anyone actually has any evidence, feel free to PM me and I’ll keep your identity quiet - I’m not interested in supporting actual pedophiles. But it seems like so far there are no victims, and no crimes either.

And given the TERF predilection to call trans women predators, rapists and pedophiles, we need to practice some skepticism when it comes to these accusations.

[soyforramen]

!! I saw you reblogged the winter writing prompts post too! We've been reblogging those to @riverdale-events too for those who want to participate. All the Reindeer Mini Games! How about - 08. i slip on some ice and you’re the stranger who catches me - all of the yes!

Some Jarchie Meet-Cute (Feat. Kiwi Archie and Photographer!Jughead because I can)

xxxx

Jughead Jones was the furthest thing from happy as he’d been all day as he left the bookstore.  According to his employee record, he’d been one of the most hardworking, diligent, timely employees they’d had.  And yet he’d been the first on the chopping block to make room for an honorary position for the boss’s daughter.

Laid off at Christmas.  What a damn cliche.

To say his dark and stormy thoughts were elsewhere was an understatement.  His mind lingered among all the things he should have said as he walked out the door, all the things he’d have to rethink without a steady source of income.  So it really shouldn’t have been a surprise when he hit a patch of black ice on the pavement and felt the world fall out from under him.

He screwed his eyes shut and waited for the inevitable pain and embarrassment that came from falling flat on one’s back, the contents of his bag strewn everywhere while concerned onlookers checked to see if they needed to call someone.

Only the pavement never came up to punch him down even further than his recent firing.

Instead there was someone pulling at his jacket, keeping him from a harsh reality check.  He opened his eyes to find a red-haired man holding Jughead by the arm as if he weighed no more than a tissue box.  With what seemed to take no effort at all, the man pulled Jughead back to his feet.

“Careful there, hate to see you knock yourself out.”

The man had a slight accent - Australia?  New Zealand maybe? - and Jughead wasn’t entirely certain that he hadn’t hit his head.  After all, who went around a snow-covered city in a bright blue and gold varsity jacket, sandals, and a guitar?  

“Thanks,” Jughead muttered.  He straightened out his jacket, expecting that to be the end of that encounter (and in this city, it usually was), but this man seemed to have missed the memo.

“No worries.  Would have hated to see you brain yourself.”  He paused and scratched the back of his head, a sheepish look on his face.  “Mate, do you reckon you could do me a favor?  I’m looking for -” the man squinted at the palm of his right hand.  “Pod’s?   Yeah-nah, that can’t be right.  Pob’s?  Pab’s? Pa-”

“Pop’s?”  

“That’s the one.”

The redhead stood there, grinning widely with an expectation that Jughead could never decline to help.  And in a way, he was right.  Jughead couldn’t help but feel a sense of comradery with the man.  Something about him was so nice it almost seemed a waste of energy to try and dislike him.  

He quickly squashed that feeling though.  Afterall, the redhead was just another lost tourist, someone who’d leave the city as quickly as he’d come.  And yet…

“I’m headed there now.  I can walk with you, if you want,” Jughead said as noncommittally as possible.  He shoved his hands into his coat pockets and looked purposefully away from the man.

“Choice, bro.  Lead the way.”  

They began walking, and if Jughead noticed how close they were he didn’t mention it.  It wasn’t until they’d reached the light at the end of the road that the man held out his hand.

“I’m Archie, by the way.”

Jughead shook it and noted the callouses on Archie’s fingertips.  Likely the guitar wasn’t a prop to draw attention as he’d first suspected.  

“Jughead.”

Archie raised an eyebrow, but didn’t ask about the nickname.  Instead he filled the walk with amicable chatter about his experiences in the city while Jughead offered his own minor commentary.  It was, on the whole, like talking with a very friendly, very enthusiastic travel blogger.  

Jughead should have been put off by the chatty Kiwi (a fact discerned by Archie’s disappointment not to be able to find a ‘Kiwiburger’ in the states), but instead he found himself responding more the longer the conversation went on.  It was as if he’d known the man his entire life rather than just ten minutes.

When they arrived at the diner, Archie held the door open for him.  The first thing Jughead noticed was that half the diner had gone silent and was staring at the redhead behind him.

“At least let me buy you a cup of coffee.  To new friends and all, yeah?”  Archie asked, oblivious to the attention.

Never one to turn down coffee, Jughead pulled his beanie down further over his ears and hiked his collar up.  “There’s a booth in the back,” he said with a nod.  

He waved at Rosie the waitress as he passed.  Archie, though, seemed to greet everyone on their way to the back.  It was an odd thing, for someone who hadn’t been to Pops’ before, but Jughead put it down to his overly friendly nature.  

Jughead took his regular seat in the booth, and Archie seemed relieved to be able to put his back to the door.  It was easy to read Archie, Jughead realized, and that was strange in-of-itself.  Or maybe that was just who Archie was.  Someone who was confident and self-assured enough to put himself out there.  

He seemed normal enough, despite the curiosity of the rest of the diner, and that Jughead put down to the redhead being a novelty.  Everyone knew or recognized everyone else within the soft, neon glow.  Pops’ was a local diner for local residents, and not many tourists made it this far out of the city unless they knew a local, so Jughead chalked the interest down to that.

“So what do you do?” Archie asked after they’d ordered coffee.  

A mocha latte, extra whipped cream for Archie, a black, no cream, no sugar, endless refills for Jughead.

“In general or professionally?”

Archie shrugged and picked up a menu to flip through it.  “Both.  Either.”  He thought about it for a moment and Jughead could almost see his thought process.  “What would you want your obituary to read if you carked it?”

Jughead snorted at the unexpectedly morbid statement.  There were a lot of things he knew he didn’t want put in his obituary - his inability to hold a steady job, his jadedness about the world and the people in it, his use of sardonic humor to keep from getting close to people.  (At least he’d be a self-reflective corpse.)

“I’m a freelance photographer for the local newspaper.”

Archie’s head jerked up in interest.  His grin was so wide it was easy to see that he’d been the recipient of braces in his younger years.  No one had teeth that straight and white without some dental work.  

“Yeah?  That’s keen.  How’d you get into that?”

It was a long story, one that Jughead was still a bit sore about.  His ex had inherited her parents newspaper and, in a pinch, had called him at three in the morning to ask if he could photograph some rally protesting a high school shutting down to make way for a prison.  And because it was Betty asking him, he couldn’t say no.  They might have broken up after college, but she was still his best friend.  And even his jaded, sardonic heart couldn’t say no to the paycheck she’d offered.

Betty had called him a godsend and used him as a photographer on and off since then, his ability to work odd and long hours a benefit to them both.  But Jughead couldn’t help but have the sneaking suspicion that this was some sort of hand out, some way that Betty had come up with to help him financially in all the ways he’d refused when they’d been dating.

It was an irritable thought he kept to himself.  Working for her had lead to other jobs, but he still couldn’t help feeling strangely indebted to her.  

“A friend needed me to photograph a political protest,” he said, condensing the entire story in the sentence blurb the paper would use.  (After all, they charge by the letter.)  “I’ve been working with her ever since.”

“Do you take other jobs?  A friend of mine’s been wanting to do an album cover, but she thinks all the ones she’s used before are rubbish.  I can show her some of yours at our next meeting.  I’m sure they’re brilliant.”

Archie’s interest seemed genuine, and it was the first time in a long time Jughead wanted to share his personal work with anyone.  But it was easy enough to be excited over someone else’s work.  It wasn’t so easy to be rejected outright, especially when your work would forever be labeled as ‘rubbish.

Besides, his friend was likely some indie artist with two hundred followers on NoiseCumulus offering to pay in ‘exposure’ and ‘experience.’  Two ‘e’s that didn’t pay the bills.’

“Yeah, sure.  Maybe.”  It was a noncommittal answer, the same one Jughead used to get out of things without having to make up an excuse for it.  

There was a lull filled with the sounds of cutlery and line cooks yelling out orders.  It occurred to Jughead a moment too late that it was his turn to move the conversation along.

“What is it you do?”

Archie looked at him strangely a moment.  With an amused grin, he said, “I sing a little.  Gig around bars and street corners.  Crash on some friends’ couches, that sort of thing.”

“Bet you meet a lot of interesting people that way,” Jughead said.

“That’s a nice way of putting it.”

There was a jingle at the door and a stranger dressed in clothes that screamed old money walked in.  He looked around the diner before taking off his sunglasses.  The sight of him set Jughead’s teeth on edge just on principle alone.  Or maybe that was just the amount of hair pomade the man obviously used.

Archie’s phone buzzed.  He turned to wave at the man.  

“That’s my manager,” he said.  He hesitated a moment, and when he’d decided something took a pen out of his pocket and wrote something down on a diner napkin.  

“If you want to do dinner tonight, and don’t feel like you have to, but here’s my number,” he said as he wrote.  

Surprised at Archie’s interest, and sure he was misreading his intention, Jughead took the napkin.  “Dinner would be good.  So long as you weren’t thinking Italian.  The only good Italian place blew up last month.”

“Sushi then?  I’ve been craving it since I landed, but haven’t had the time to find a good place.”

“I know a place,” Jughead told him.  “I’ll text you the address.”

“Oh chur.  See you then.  And don’t forget to bring a portfolio of your work if you want.  I can pass it on to Josie this weekend,” Archie said.  He reached out and squeezed Jughead’s hand before collecting his guitar and walking towards his manager, who gave Jughead a slow, appraising look.  Jughead scowled at him and his overly oiled hair.

A few minutes after Archie left the booth, Jughead’s phone buzzed with a stream of texts from his sister.  

‘Archie?  You’re having breakfast with Archie Andrews?!?!? Number one pop star and love of all under 17 and over 46????  YOU?????’

‘WHAT have I done to deserve this punishment?’

‘It should have been me!!!!’

‘Did you ask him about his tour? Did you get an autograph?? Did he talk about his music???’

It finally clicked why she was so distraught, though, when she sent the picture of him and Archie walking through the door at Pop’s.  

It was so obvious, and yet Jughead had entirely missed it.  Archie Andrews was J.B.’s inane pop star, known the world over for his sugary pop lyrics, great smile, and overall charm. For as much as she claimed to be edgy and off the beaten path J.B. had the biggest crush on an inane pop star.  His posters covered the walls of her bedroom back at his mother’s apartment, and she listened to his songs on constant rotation when it was just the siblings in a car.

He’d even made the nightly news about his announcement to tour the U.S. as the opening act for Josie and The Pussycats, likely the same Josie he’d mentioned showing Jughead’s work to.

And Jughead had just agreed to go to dinner with him.

[creativeashproductions]

Falling for Danger // Ethan Dolan

Summary: Meeting the twins in the most unconventional way in pursuit of an armed suspect wasn’t something you imagined. As a SWAT member you keep them self in the rush before leaving them with nightmares and haunted memories. Of course that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t see them again.

Characters: Ethan Dolan x Reader, Grayson Dolan, Hondo, Deacon, Tan, Chris and Luca.

Words: 2.2k

Disclaimer: I do not own the SWAT tv series or the characters involved. I don’t own at gifs or images that may appear.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, fighting, and guns. 
Author: Caitsy

A/N: I grew to love the reimagined SWAT tv series that’s based on the original 1970s show. This one stars Shemar Moore. I thought a crossover with the Dolan Twins would be cool and there is one more part to this. Enjoy and comment, reblog and like.

Masterlist

Prompt List

ASK US A QUESTION LIST

Youngest member of SWAT in history with six months under your belt and you were already part of the family despite the bad start. You were nearly late on your first day ending with a few choice words with the team leader and a speeding ticket on your motorcycle. It was hard to get where you were but you enjoyed it. You were the one that more background driving with severe talent and a gift of drifting.

You were in the debriefing room with the rest of the team watching the two screens lift from the table into eye level. Hondo, the new team leader was on the other side of the table with teammate Victor Tan and Dominique Luca. To your left was the only other female Chris and Deacon to your right.

“We’ll be going in through this side while Mumford’s team will parallel the other side.” Hondo pointed out stepping back from the screens, “Suit up.”

Once in the SWAT truck you patiently checked your uniform as Luca started driving the truck you had nicknamed Betty. Chris sat across from you strapping on her helmet while the others got ready for another dangerous mission.

“Alright listen up?” Hondo spoke. Everyone nodded before Chris roughly shoved open the back doors of Betty, “My CI says the heroin drop was last night. Supplier rented an Airbnb to cut and package it in a seedier part of town. Three maybe four guards.”

“Be ready for surprises.” Deacon called from the front seat.

You and Tan maneuvered yourselves to the left side of the wall while the others got into position, once everyone was close you pulled four black circular devices out and placed them in the corners of the door. Once all were blinking a blue colour you stepped back to take cover before pressing a button. The door exploded while everyone flooded inside.

“LAPD SWAT.” Hondo called out followed by the echoes of the rest of the team.

Making quick work you grabbed a perp holding a pipe to kick his knee and push him face first into the ground.

“Stay down!” You yelled at the perp struggling below you. You zip tied his wrists while Tan held a gun over him. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a perp racing out a door, “I got the rabbit!”

You put the safety on your rifle before securing it on your back while you ran after the perp holding tight on your Kimber pistol. The perp ran into the alley between the terrible run down house through a few blocks before you found yourself in a warehouse dominated area.

“Stop!” You called out taking cover behind a car when he stopped to shoot you. Peeking out you aimed your gun on him unable to get a shot before taking race once more. He ran inside an open warehouse before stopping.

“LAPD stop!” You shouted once more as he pointed his gun at you. Screams from up above rang out, “Put the gun down now!”

Ignoring you he hid behind a wall while you quickly traded the pistol for your rifle once more as you plastered yourself against a wall. You peeked around the wall to see a jittery pair of young men, you gestured them away while you moved along the wall but when you turned around the wall where he was but he was gone.

You started to stand straight when you were shoved to the ground with a lot of force by the long haired perp. You grunted rolling over top of him your rifle shoved out of your hands while the gun was pointed at you. You gripped the wrist of the arm holding the gun twisting until he dropped it and grabbing your rifle.

“Stay down.” You firmly spoke.


“Bitch.” He spat grabbing under him to pull another gun.

Two bangs echoed in the warehouse as he fell limp on the ground with blood spreading on his shirt and below him.

“Suspect down.” You spoke into your comm before giving the address of the location.

“He’s dead.” A whisper spoke gaining your attention. Your rifle was swiftly levelled on the two males staring at you with wide eyes, “Don’t shoot!”

In a few minutes Hondo on the others were inside the warehouse gathering around you while the two strangers sat pale in chairs. People milled around the body both officers in blue and a detective with FBI involved.

“I’ll talk.” You nodded heading over to the boys sans your helmet and kneeling, “Hey guys. I’m Y/N, call me Del.”

“Del?” The one boy asked confused.

“Short for Citadel. A while back I talked to a young boy with a learning disability and highly intelligent. He told me I was like a Citadel trained to protect during the attack on him. It stuck.”

“Oh.” The other one gulped.


“I’m sorry you had to see that.” You softly spoke, “What are your names?”

“Ethan Dolan and this is my brother Grayson.” One spoke and you took the time to take in their features. Both had hazel eyes and dark hair with tanned skin. Each had beauty marks on their faces in different areas.

“Twins?” You asked.

“Yeah.” Ethan smirked at Grayson, “We learnt we’re identical.”

“Aren’t you a little young to be SWAT?” Grayson asked you ignoring his brother.

“Maybe.” You chuckled standing up when a male detective made his way over, “Detective Ryan will take your statement.”

You wandered back to the team speaking with each other before drawing you into the conversation. You were all successful in collecting drugs equivalent to a few thousand dollars and helping a hostage discovered when you took chase. 
“Nice job team.” Hondo spoke making sure to meet all of your eyes, “We’ll head back to HQ for paperwork and we’ll go on our way.”

On your way out to Betty you turned to see Ethan staring at you in interest while the colour slowly returned to his face. With a tap on your shoulder from Chris you climbed into the back of Betty settling in with the rest of the team. The adrenaline slowly wearing off like it normally did.

The cafe was fairly busy on your day off while you were reading the novel you were slowly making your way through. An aesthetically large white coffee cup sat on a matching small plate with an empty bowl of your breakfast. Many mornings you were unable to sleep in so you would make your way to the local cafe to start the day.

“Y/N right?”

Your head moved to look up at a male standing in front of you with the sun blocking your vision as to who it exactly was. When he stepped closer you pegged him as one of the Dolan twins from a few weeks back. You dog eared the page you were on before sliding into the backpack at your feet.

“Your one of the twins right?” You asked confused.


“Ethan.” He smiled, “Can I sit?”


You inconspicuously scanned the cafe seeing many open tables before nodding him to the other side of the table for two. You scanned his features looking for any hints of residual trauma but found only the faintest shadow under his eyes.

“How are you doing?” You asked sitting straight, “Any nightmares?”


“Uh. No, not anymore.” He spoke blinking slowly, “I mean Gray and I did go to the recommended therapist you guys suggested. It worked a lot.”

“That’s good.”

“Do you work today?” He asked, “I don’t know how being a SWAT member entails.”

“It’s my day off.” You smiled at him, “What do you do Ethan?”



“Grayson and I run a YouTube channel. We’ve been doing it for years now.” Ethan beamed, “We started on Vine when we were fourteen and it’s been nonstop since.”

“How old are you guys? Nineteen?” You asked taking a sip from your cup.

“Twenty.” He smiled, “What about you?”

“Recently twenty-two.” You chuckled pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“This is a little forward but can I have your number?” Ethan questioned. You tilted your head thinking of the pros and cons on the question.

“I’m a cop.” You slowly answered, “I live a life that people find hard to be in.”

“There’s something about you I can’t get out of my mind.”


“I killed someone in front of you. Unless you had amnesia than I don’t find it odd that you remember me.”

A shiver ran down Ethan’s back visibly shaking the memories off with a wince included. You watched carefully as the skin pinched between his eyes and a black cloud fall on him for a mere few seconds. You saw the naive version of yourself on the first day of your job not prepared for the lives you would have to take.

“Yeah.” He nodded gazing past you at the art filled wall.

“It’s okay you know.” You spoke, “To be afraid of memories.”

“You don’t seem scared.”

“I’m SWAT.” You crookedly smiled frowning when your phone beeped with the signature sound you associated with the job, “Shit.”

“What?” Ethan asked as you hurried to get up and collect your things. 
“Duty calls.”

“I thought you were off?”

“I’m never truly off.” You chuckled handing him a card, “That’s my card if you ever want to talk or get a tour.”

He stared at the card while you grabbed a motorbike helmet off the the ground jogging to the entry of the cafe. You strolled to the Honda 600 Hornet you were proud to call your own before sliding your backpack on followed with the helmet before starting the bike.

Ethan stood outside of the cafe watching you wave and take off into the traffic away from him and closer to danger. You whizzed past the cars before stopping at the little parking area designated to motorbikes. Once inside you bumped into a male you didn’t recognize.

“Sorry.” You mumbled jogging into the debriefing room where Hondo, Tan, and Luca were standing.

“Sorry to pull you all off from your day off.” Captain Cortez announced holding tablet in her hand watching as the other members joined the rest of you.

“Okay, what wrong?” Deacon asked crossing his arms.

“We have a festival going on near the area that we had the riot a while back. We’ve been asked to send in a team to patrol the grounds. Mumford’s team is on call for another assignment.” Captain Cortez explained with a sympathetic smile.

“Alright. You heard the lady. Suit up.” Hondo spoke already circling the table for the doorway not before sharing a fleeting look with Captain Cortez. Your eyes settled on them for a millisecond before you continued to the locker room.

It felt a little odd wearing the police dress uniform with the short black sleeve button down over the white t-shirt. Your badge secured on your left breast bone along with the radio strapped to the front of the shirt and your name tag on the opposite side. Your duty belt holding the handcuffs, hand ties, your gun along with the other pieces.

It looked like the cheap version of a music festival with litter on the ground and people milling around the area. Tan and you walked the perimeter with practiced ease maneuvering around people and keeping an eye on others.

“Did you know that Buck had a kid he was a mentor to?” Tan asked crossing his arms as you both came to a stop, “It came down to you and some guy named Street.”

“Street?” You scoffed, “What the hell kind of parent names their kid Street?”


“Last name.” Tan informed you, “He’s joining Mumford’s team.”

You chuckled watching the crowd in a more simplistic way as if you were an artist searching for inspiration compared to a cop. This was something you had been passionate about since you were a little kid playing cops and robbers in the dark. When you finally made SWAT it was a major thing in your family, your father had tried out for SWAT and hadn’t made it. Your grandfather followed your grandmother’s wishes to not add more fuel to fear of losing him.

“Y/N?” Ethan’s shocked voice questioned from behind you. Behind him stood his twin brother crouching on the ground to tie his shoe.

You were about to answer when screams broke out around you following a gunshot that echoed around. Within seconds you tackled Ethan to the ground before the second one reverberated the area.

“Shooter on top of the building across the way.” Hondo called through the comms.

“Get down!” Tan shouted as people furiously ran in a similar direction frantically pushing each other.

“We really have to stop meeting like this.” Ethan groaned as you pushed off of him and back onto your feet.

“Talk later.” You called over your shoulder at Ethan before pulling your gun. You spoke into the comms, “In pursuit!”

Swiftly moving tree to tree until you were on top of the building with your team members scouring the rooftop. Instead of guns you found speakers pointed in the festival directions, camera pieces and two severely freaked out college kids.

“False alarm.” Hondo spoke pushing his gun back into his holster, “What were you guys thinking? Using realistic sound effects to freak people out?”

“We thought it would be cool to add this into our film.” The lanky male admitted as Chris and Luca patted them down for weapons, “We didn’t mean any harm?”

“What about the psychological trauma the festival goers are having?” Hondo spoke crossing his arms, “Deacon and I will wait for LAPD officers. Everyone go home, our shift is over.”

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[bluethepaladin]

What do you have against Bex? (Can u also provide evidence thanks 💜)

When I first got this ask, I was tempted to play it off as a joke and say “the fact she exists,” and leave it at that. But I feel like it’s important to stay informed. And if you genuinely don’t know, I’ll give you the complete rundown. It’s long, it’s messy, and it’s nasty, so bear with me.

First, and introduction. When I talk about Bex, I’m referring to the actress Bex Taylor-Klaus, who is the voice actor (or VA) of the character Pidge in the show Voltron Legendary Defender on Netflix.

It all began a while ago when Bex liked a comment of a picture. The picture involved a ship called Shei//th. I censored the name so it doesn’t show up in the tags of that on tumblr. But essentially it’s a ship between two characters, Takashi Shirogane, a 25 year old pilot who is the leader of the team, and Keith Kogane, one of the other “paladins” or fighters on the team. People like me find this ship to be distasteful, since Shiro is an adult, and the others are teens (it’s actually a bit messier than that, since an official Voltron source listed Keith as 18, but the producers of the show, Lauren Montgomery and Joaquim Dos Santos, said they were not consulted on the book so there’s some question as to whether it’s canon or not). Either way, the consensus by most reasonable people is that it’s probably not a healthy thing to depict in children’s media, when you consider the considerable age difference, the power imbalance (leader, senior officer with someone they are in charge of), and finally, the iconic line by the character of Keith himself when he defines their relationship as a familial one.

Nonetheless, the ship persists, as nasty things on tumblr are wont to do. There’s a lot of shipping discourse on tumblr between two distinct groups which can be labelled as “antis”–people who are not in favor of any Shiro/paladin ships, or what has become to be known as “shaladins”–people who ship any variation of Shiro with the paladins.

Here is where Bex got involved. On Instagram there was a picture of a black shoe and a red shoe together and the joke was about the shoes being a prophecy that Shei//th would be canon. A joke, mostly, considering all the evidence above. But here’s where Bex got herself in trouble. She liked a comment on the picture where someone said “Keith is a power bottom confirmed.”

Obviously, this caused a bit of an uproar within the fanbase, especially between the discourse between antis and shaladins. Shaladins were celebrating that an Official Voltron Source liked their ship, and antis were angry about that acknowledgement of the ship at all by official sources, and the sexualization of a kid’s show (more on this later.)

So of course this sparked the discourse on tumblr. One user, @lancehunks, who was receiving asks about Bex, tagged her in the replies.They were definitely unfavorable. 

and 

and a few more. 

Bex, being the big strong, adult, woman she is, decided that she could not take this obviously grievous insult to her name [sarcasm], and decided to reblog them all and respond to them. Keep in mind, that @lancehunks was just 13 years old. And Bex (22) decided that these were appropriate responses:

Yep, you read that right. Not only an adult but employed on a kid’s show! To a 13 year old! The target audience of the very show she’s a part of! (Oh, the hypocrisy). But wait, there’s more:

Just in case you’re confused, let me tell you the many, many reasons why this is unacceptable. 

 Bex is an adult. You’d think she’d be a little more mature by now just in general. It’s the internet and there are trolls.

The person she was addressing was 13!!!! Do I think it was mature to tag Bex in all those posts? No. But it’s… behavior that you can expect from 13 year old’s on the internet. If we swore at and tore down every single one of them every time they did something dumb, we would need a lot more therapists for teens in the world. Plus it’s really disingenuous to pretend that we wouldn’t have done something similar when we were younger if we were in that position.

Bex is famous. While she’s certainly not on the caliber of massive A-List stars like Tom Holland or Zendaya, she has a fanbase that exceeds the normal person’s friend group. Just because she’s been on TV before, she has groupies that will support her no matter what, who will troll for her, who uncritically and unconditionally worship her. I’m not a Bex fan, nor do I really care to know her well enough to know just exactly how many fans she has, to be certain she does have them. When she publicly reblogged those words, that “motherfucker,” those fighting words, she weaponized her fanbase. What I mean when I say that is her behavior gave her groupies permission to behave the same way. By targeting someone who didn’t like her (a thirteen year old!!!!!), she opened the gates to her fans and groupies doing the same thing, to a kid.

This lead to some terrible things happening. The 13 year old was getting death threats, sexual violence threats, and nsfw content, all because Bex just couldn’t let it go. 

What does this mean? Finish it? Finish the kid? If you’re so sick of the fighting, then why did you even respond in the first place? Bex is the one who escalated the situation. Bex is the one who caused the fighting in the first place (by that I mean the fighting between the two that night, the fighting between antis and shaladins has been going on for as long as the show).

There we go. Now he have something resembling dignity. But unfortunately the damage was done, and user @lancehunks deleted their blog. As a direct response to Bex’s actions. Bex caused a 13 year old to leave tumblr. 

When hearing this news, Bex offered a half-assed apology:

This is the most insincere apology I have ever seen. “The internet has Bad things on it and it’s YOUR fault for seeing them” is not an apology. The best part is that she’s a big fat hypocrite. “Sometimes, when it’s harmless, the best thing I can do is shake my head and keep scrolling.” So why didn’t you Bex? Why didn’t you keep scrolling instead of targeting a 13 year old?

In light of recent political events, though there’s one thing that stands out to me: 

Sound like anybody you know? The esteemed President, perhaps?

*disclaimer* I am in no way claiming that Bex is a Trump supporter. I don’t know enough about her–and I don’t want to know enough about her–to know where she leans politically. I’m just drawing the attention to the similarities in moral equivalency going on, here.*

Sure you targeted a 13 year old and weaponized your fanbase, but someone tagging you in a snarky post is just as bad, right? (Wrong.)

You’d think that would be the end. You’d think that Bex would be capable of living and learning, or maybe even just taking her own advice, and keep scrolling. But here we go again.

The next bit of drama started when the possibly canon guide book was released, stating Keith’s age as 18. There was a big celebration on the shaladin side because technically, that would make it “legal” for Keith and Shiro to have sex. Besides the fact that legal ≠ moral, again, Voltron is a kid’s show. But on tumblr this time, Bex posted this.

This time, the discourse surrounding Bex was a little different., This time, the discourse mostly focused on the fact that even if Shiro and Keith disregarded canon and morals and the fact that it’s a kid’s show ever did get in a relationship, the only thing that matters is how they like to have sex.

This is a problem for a lot of reasons. There’s a culture, pretty prominent on tumblr of women, mostly white, who are obsessed with gay sex. They write fanfiction and p*rn solely for their own personal gratification. This, of course, is a gross misinterpretation to wanting LGBT+ representation. If you aren’t a mlm (an acronym for men-loving-man, that includes many sexualities) then writing p*rn about is sexualizing them, using them as a tool to get yourself off, and not like complex human people. Mlm are more than how they like to have sex. In fact, that shouldn’t be a part of a discussion for anybody except between willing partners. This also feeds into the popular and damaging stereotype that gay men are predatory by nature.

So, as a whole, not good. 

And again, we have a whole situation escalated by Bex. The worst part is, to people who tried to explain this to her, the only response they were given was a gif:

So once again, a minor dared to express their distaste for Bex on tumblr. But this time, they didn’t tag her. This time, they censored her name. But Bex found it anyway. And she decided to do the exact same thing that led to a minor leaving the website, and to stop watching the show. 

Have no fear, this time though. This time, Bex is going after a 14 year old, at least she’s not going after kids anymore, right? [sarcasm]

Some final notes. 

Bex claims to be an LGBT+ rights activist. I’m also pretty sure she’s a lesbian herself (again, I already know too much about her, I’m not looking to get to know her better.) So, you’d think, as someone who wants equality for LGBT+ people and communities, she’d have the wherewithal to listen to specific subsets of that group when they say something about themselves, like, for example, young mlm who don’t appreciate being sexualized by a white woman. So I couldn’t help but laugh out loud when I saw this on her blog:

Now, I happen to agree with the above statement, but it’s so ironic, so hypocritical that Bex is talking about the sexualization of anything. Because kid’s shows aren’t safe from her sexualization and mlm certainly aren’t. How can one person be so incredibly oblivious? A mystery that I don’t have any interest in solving. 

I also want to address something a little more devious and a little more dark. I personally know of at least 12 different people who sent Bex asks, politely explaining some of the things I’ve talked about here, or relaying how her words hurt them personally. Bex never answered any of them. But she did answer this:

Just to be perfectly clear, I do not condone or encourage hatemail. Do not send people anything wishing them death or harm in any way. I have never sent nor do plan on sending hatemail, and you should be ashamed of yourself if you do.

However, this is incredibly nefarious. Bex doesn’t answer any of the many asks she got that were polite, but proved her wrong. She didn’t answer any of the young mlm who gave her their personal stories and who weren’t anonymous. Instead, she publishes this. And she did this on purpose, to make her look innocent, to make her look like she’s the one being attacked. I get hatemail every single day too. Things along similar lines to this. I block the user. Delete them, One, because I don’t want to expose my followers to that kind of negativity on a daily basis, two, a mature person knows that deleting them is the best kind of revenge because the user will be constantly looking for a response and they will know they had no effect on me and three, because if you do that, eventually they stop. This is intentional on Bex’s part to make the people who don’t like her look bad. I don’t like Bex at all, and I certainly do not support that message. Any reasonable person wouldn’t. Also the fact that it’s an anonymous message adds a certain air of doubt as to who sent it. 

The point is, Bex is purposely ignoring polite and well-meaning people and posted this to “prove” she’s the one on the “good” side because no good person would send that message.

This is also worth noting: 

This was posted after the lancehunks debate but before the power bottom comment she made. In this post, Bex admits that a relationship between Shiro and any of the paladins is predatory in nature. She said that. Her words. And then after that she said that Keith was a power bottom. 

The last thing I want to say, is that Voltron is a kid’s show. It’s rated US-TV-Y7. Which means for years 7 and older. Regardless of the ship, there should be no sexual content, be it fanart, of fanfiction of Voltron characters at all. We are all collectively responsible for keeping content age-appropriate for the target audience. So, stop it. All and any ships. 

For minors, this is my advice to you:Bex is a predator, a hypocrite, and a liar. Do not engage with her. Block her. Do not tag her in any of your posts. She has a history of targeting minors. Protect yourself. Do not engage.

[murasakiibb]

I can't come up with a pithy title so here have this

I was tagged by @chrisside!

Rules: answer the 30 questions and then tag 20 people you'd like to get to know better. (I'm not sure I can come up with even like five people, so if you see this and want to do it, feel free.)

Nickname(s): Do online handles count lol. I don't really have any nicknames irl, but online I've been called IBB and Murasaki SO.

Gender:  Female!

Sign: Virgo

Height: 5'0", or about 150cm for those using the metric system.

Time: Well I'm starting this at 2:15 pm my time but we'll see how long it takes me to finish this up and post it.

Fav Bands: I... don't usually pay much mind to bands specifically so much as just music lol. My tastes tend to lean towards harder rock/sometimes metal. But if it's good I'll like it regardless.

Fav Solo Artists: See above about bands.

Song Stuck In My Head: At the moment, nothing for once. I've been prone to getting Persona 5 songs stuck in my head lately though. Particularly Life Will Change or Last Surprise lol.

Last Movie I Saw: UUUUUUUUH... I am drawing a blank. I want to say... Lady and the Tramp, maybe?

Last Show I Watched: Probably Steven Universe lol. As far as new shows I've watched, there's the first episode of the Persona 5 anime.

When Did I Create My Blog?: March 28, 2016. My blog's a whole two years old!

What Do I Post?: I reblog a lot of fan art, mostly from Undertale, but also some Persona, Fullmetal Alchemist, cats, and rocks. Lots and lots of rocks lol. I also post about my progress on cosplays and art I've done. Especially the Undertale comic I've been doing for... about two years now, sheesh.

Last Thing I Googled: UUUUUUUH. I think the last thing I googled was actually... right, I was *trying* to find like, a Shujin Academy patch that I could like eventually attach to my costume, but instead I ended up finding like. Someone apparently made the particular plaid pattern for the Shujin Academy pants and made it available for like, actual fabric. I am Highly tempted to get some.

Do I Have Any Other Blogs?: I have like a million RP blogs LMAO. And I've also got a sideblog dedicated to just my Undertale fan comic, @ut-wakingnightmare-comic.

Do I Get Asks?: Sometimes! I kinda hoard all the nice ones like a dragon lol. I tend to get a lot more asks on my RP blogs, really. There is one ask I got here a WHILE back that I keep meaning to doodle something for but we'll see if I ever get around to that within the next century.

Why Did I Choose My URL?: I believe I've made a big post about this before lol. Long story short, it's a username I've had since I was a wee bab that I just sort of default to everywhere.

Following: 448

Followed By: On here, 242

Average Hours Of Sleep: Like about 7-8 hours. I actually try to keep a decent sleep schedule.

Lucky Number: I... don't know, honestly.

Instruments: I picked up a little guitar way way way back when I was in like, junior high/high school, but I haven't really done much with it in... probably at least a decade at this point RIP. I've also collected a few ocarinas thanks to my friend who's a big Legend of Zelda fan and likes to collect them lol.

What Am I Wearing: One of my favorite shirts. It's purple with a glittery, heart-eyed skull on it lol. 

Dream Trip: Probably France or Japan! France because I actually know enough French to get by lol. And Japan because I'm a massive weeb and I think it'd be pretty to go there around like, cherry blossom flowering seasons or something. (Not summer though. According to my former Japanese professor, it's really fucking hot in the summer LMAO.)

Fav Food: If you ask some of my friends, they'd probably either say skittles or goldfish crackers lol. And... to be honest, that's probably not too far off.

Nationality: American, basically. If we're talking nationality based on ethnic background, on my mom's side I'm African and Polish Jew, and on my dad's side I'm white Scots.

Fav Song: Probably something from Persona 5 at the moment lol. I tend to like and listen to a lot of video game music.

Last Book I Read: UH. Hell if I know. Does manga count? Because I've read a little bit of One Punch Man fairly recently. I need to sit down and just read so much stuff.

Top 3 Fictional Universes I Want to Join: That's a tough one. Uh... Undertale honestly seems like a pretty chill place to be.  I'd maybe be okay with the Persona universe. What else... I don't know, there's not a lot of places I can think of that I'm like "I absolutely would love to be there." I mean, I could say something like "oh I'd love to live in a universe with magic in it" but there are plenty of magical universes that are... Not Great to be in.

And that’s it! I’m not going to tag anyone specifically like I said above so if you see this and are like “hey I want to give it a shot” then feel free to snag it and tag me as the one who tagged you!

[the-foxwolf]

The Liliana Discourse

Thanks for @shorewall for inspiring this piece with his own passion. So let’s get started. T

Nails In The Coffin

Let us make no mistake. Liliana is abusive and manipulative. She is cruel and selfish. The question I’ve been asked is... has the Magic Story Team harped on that point too much? My response is:

Not unnecessarily so. I do think they story team has kinda driven that nail firmly into the coffin. Almost dangerously so. Like, they can push people away from her. Which is bad for the character, the story, and even sales. 

HOWEVER... if Liliana gets her redemption arc on Dominaria, then all the recent harping will be worth it. Without following up on their chance, I do feel that they’ll have unnecessarily drilling that point into the ground. But I’m confident they’ll get around to it. Also make note, that the recent harping the team has done takes place in an era before Kaladesh- the place during which she finally came to care for the Gatewatch. She changed a lot after meeting the Gatewatch and even more after Kaladesh.

Tumblr Hate

Does the Tumblr community hate on her too much? Here is my response:

You’re asking the wrong guy. I love my Lili to pieces. I love Liliana. So if you ask me if the Tumblr community has hated on her too much- obviously my answer is yes. But I don't expect more from the masses. Liliana isn’t an easy woman to love. Her story is deep and complex. She’s a profound character who isn’t meant to be accepted at the surface level. And that’s fine with me. To love Liliana takes someone putting in some effort- be it in overlooking things or delving into things. In my opinion, women that require some effort to know tend to be the most interesting friends and/or romantic partners. Even those who know her can still make the decision to hate her. They’re equally allowed to feel so. So yes, to me, Tumblr hates on her too much. But I understand the haters and I don’t mind them. It doesn’t bother me.

The Amonkhet Debacle

Recent Magic story has brought up Liliana’s history, but hasn’t acknowledged how much Liliana has grown. Which, to me, seems to be the fundamental issue with us Liliana fans. I don’t fault them for it. As I said earlier, if they follow through correctly, it’ll be great build up.

But the Liliana at the end of Amonkhet is entirely a separate person than the Liliana during Innistrad. That is a fact. She refused to turn against the Gatewatch and join Bolas’ side. Instead, she retreated, like any intelligent person would do. Liliana only stayed to fight the losing battle against Bolas because she felt she owed them for helping her defeat Razaketh. There. I said it. The old Liliana would have bailed on them the moment after she killed Razaketh. Without the slightest hesitation. Think about Kaladesh. She could have raised an army of ghouls to storm Tezzeret’s stronghold and simply torn him to pieces. The ended in a draw, for the most part. But only because Liliana was holding back- as Jace and as Gideon would want her to. She recognized how stupid she was being for not storming the stronghold. Not only did she recognize it, she shrugged and rolled with it anyways. Remember the last time Liliana chose a target to destroy before that? She literally raised an actual army of ghouls to storm Thraben. Sure it’s not the same, but what I’m getting at is that Liliana can and is willing to go over the top for victory. Yet she held herself back on Amonkhet- to the dismay of the multi-verse, because now Bolas has the Planar Gate....

When Liliana killed Razaketh, I felt no pity for the creature. Razaketh was literally pure evil and- more importantly- one of the final barriers between Liliana and her freedom. That she took her pleasure in destroying him doesn’t remotely bother me. She has the right to exact her revenge on a literal demon in any way she pleases.

Jace, the Damsel in Distress?

No. Jace is NOT innocent in this entire thing. Yes, Liliana is a cruel person. But Jace played a role in enabling it. He was never some pathetic weak little thing hiding and helpless in a tower where Liliana kept him at bay. He could have planeswalked away from it all. He could have acted upon his doubts (because he suspected Liliana for a long time before he confirmed his fears). But he didn’t act. Why? Because he didn’t want to risk anything. I know that this segment will fan some flames, but I don't care. Liliana was a terrible person to him. But I refuse to believe the idea that Jace was 100% victim in that whole adventure. It’s simply not true. He didn’t have a problem brushing her aside when Gideon interrupted them on Ravnica. I don’t mind that Jace chose to help Gideon first. But I find his behavior in how he accepted to help entirely appalling. That was nothing more than a power-play spite-shot. Jace can make his own choices like an adult when he feels like it. That he didn’t act back during Agents of Artifice is not because he was helpless. Clearly, Jace can brush her off when the fancy strikes him, as we saw recently. So please, don’t try and convince yourself that Jace was nothing but a victim and that Liliana was nothing but a predator.

The Vrazka-Jace Ship

I don’t care that they got to enjoy some time together. In fact, I wish I could have seen their relationship develop just a little bit more. But regardless of how close they grew, I always knew that Jace and Vrazka would never become a “thing”. They’d enjoy it for a while, but they had no future together. And I still don’t believe they do. 

The only reason, I believe, they came to have feelings for each other is because of the value to served to one another in their journey to discover themselves. 

Why Do We Love Lili?

Let’s get it out of the way. Liliana is easily one of the most sexually attractive woman I’ve found in fantasy- if not the most attractive. But if that’s the only reason you like her- you have that right. Nothing wrong with that. In fact, the major reason I even came to like Nissa was because of her art. Literally. Just this ONE image made me like Nissa. So it’s true. That plays a big role.

(Nissa, Nature’s Artisan) (Art by Willian Murai)

But Liliana is SO MUCH MORE. People love Liliana because she walks that thin line between conventional good and conventional evil. She’s a perfect gray character, well executed. She’s tsundere. She’s spiteful. She’ s got sass and personality. She’s such a well developed character, there is SO much to love. You don’t have to like her, but if you deny the idea that people can like her for more than her body, then you are being tremendously shallow. Her body is but ONE facet of who she is. But she’s a developed character with so many other things to love. 

Who Will Lili Be?

I’m not expecting Liliana to become to goody-two shoes. No. Even after her inevitable redemption arc, I think she’ll still be the tsundere, spiteful, sassy character we all love. But I do want to see her apologize. I want to see her ball her fists up, take a deep breath, and apologize to the Gatewatch. For the first time in hundreds of years, I need to see her swallow a tall glass of humility and ask for forgiveness. Chandra might see it as a tiny insignificant action. But the amount of growth Liliana has to go through to say those words: “I’m sorry” is titanic. I want to see her grow as a person to the point when she can finally say it. Even if it’s the only time she’ll say it in the next decade, I don’t care. She’s not going to change per attitude. Her personality definitely will. But her air, her grace, her spite, can’t leave without destroying her character.

Response?

It’s about time I finally made a post directly talking about the

Liliana Discourse TM. So... here it is. Please, feel free to reblog with your comments!

[lr-supernaturaladdict]

Time Goes On- Part. 06

Summary:You are a vampire that had been recruited by a group of hunters working for the not yet named Shield.  For years you were a hunter, killing your own kind for your own protection as well as protecting the innocent lives around you. When WWII hit nearly 20 years after your recruitment you were itching to get onto the battlefield, but you had a much more important job. You needed to train Captain America himself, in between meet and greets of course. You fell in love with him in the process, not realizing it even possible to feel anymore after nearly being dead for 40 years. But was winning the war really worth the cost that you felt in losing the first Avenger? Even after you meet a young Sam Winchester who made you feel as alive as he had made you feel?

Word Count: 2705

A/N: Because I’m awesome and keep coming up with ideas on how to keep this going here is another part to Time. I really hope you guys are enjoying this as much as I do writing it. Please leave any feedback or suggestions you might have. Feel free to reblog if you enjoy this story yet far and if you’d like to be added to a tag list for this or any other fic, let me know. I will be working on updating other fics soon.

Tag list: @renner-hawkeyeloves

My Masterlist

Part 01 Part 02 Part 03 Part 04 Part 05

1995:

Running your hands down the old photograph you sighed. The edges were faded and the image on it wasn’t as clear as it once was. You lost Steve 50 years ago and no matter how hard you tried it still hurt just as much as it did the day it happened. You had been having nightmares about your final moments with him and continued to wake up in a cold sweat.

Though you didn’t witness the plane exploding your mind continued to play jokes on you, constantly playing back something that you knew happened. Your dreams would start off like any other day with Steve, laughing and spending time together training. Sharing your first kiss, giving yourself to him for the first time, telling him you loved him. Then it would dramatically shift to him blaming you for his death, saying it was your fault that he blew up. It was your fault that you weren’t there to stop the explosion, or be in his place. You weren’t sure why the nightmares were happening now of all times, but they continued to get worse.

You stared down at the photo, lost in your memories. It was taken a week before you were deployed. It was the first day you met James Barnes, Steves best friend since they were lads. You had instantly hit it off with him and you never saw Steve so happy. The night was spent drinking and telling stories. Bucky, as he told you to call him told you of how awkward Steve had once been prior to the serum. You would tell him about how Steve only was able to pin you once during your sparring, even with Steve claiming to go easy on you. A photographer had been walking around the room taking pictures of all of the soldiers, when Bucky practically ripped it from them and took a picture of you both.

You weren’t drunk and neither was Steve due to your enhanced bodies, but you were still giggling like idiots. Bucky managed to snap a photo of you kissing Steve, causing Captain America to blush like an idiot. The memory made you smile like an idiot, so much so you barely felt the tear stream down your cheek.

You ran your finger across Steves face and pursed your lips. “You're still the idiot that holds my heart,” you whispered more to yourself and leaned back against your motel bed. You had decided on sitting on the floor once you woke up to avoid waking up the 12 year old who shared your bed. There wasn’t much light in the room due to the fact it was going on 3am, only the street lights that shined lightly through the window. It had become the norm while travelling with the Winchesters though. Moving from town to town was rough on the young boys but you agreed with John that it would be best in the end. Although when you took time off to spend with Tony he would leave them with Bobby Singer, a grumpy old man who barely trusted you at first. Though most recently he had warmed up to you, even telling you he considered you a daughter.

Placing the photo back in the small box you held your memories of Steve in, you pulled out an old drawing of his. He was an amazing artist and you wished you had more of him with you, but unfortunately a lot of his things were locked away by SHIELD not to be seen again.

The drawing was of you while you were sleeping. At first when you saw it you gave him crap about how creepy it was, but when he told you that it was the first time that he had felt the drive to draw anything was when he saw how beautiful you were as you slept. Of course is was the morning after your first time together, your body still naked and your skin still flushed, but it was tasteful. The sheet you were wearing was covering most of your body, only a leg and your arm visible other than your head.

“(Y/N),” you heard a voice call your name from behind you, causing you to jump away from the bed and clutch your heart.

“Jesus, Sammy,” you breathed out, looking at the small boy who was now sitting up in the bed you had been sharing. “And here I thought no one could scare me anymore.”

“Sorry,” he murmured and laid back down.

“Oh sweetie,” you immediately softened your eyes as you looked at his saddened form. “I know you didn’t mean to,” you quickly stood and sat on the bed next to him, running your hand through his shaggy chestnut hair. “What are you doing up little man?”

“I woke up and you weren’t in the bed anymore,” he said softly, nuzzling into your hand as it cupped his cheek. “I was scared.”

“Why were you scared?” you asked looking down at him.

“I thought you left,” he murmured and pulled the blanket under his chin more.

Pursing your lips you looked over at the two men occupying the other queen bed, you were quite honestly surprised John was as fast asleep as he was. You had originally offered to share the bed with John so the boys could share a bed, but Sam practically begged you to share with him. You were normally used to bunking with John because of the solo hunts you’d go on with him pretending to be his wife. Which unfortunately happened more than you’d like to admit. Even now people still looked at you funny if a man and woman shared a room together when they weren’t married.

Turning your attention back on Sam you smiled at him. “I’d never leave you Sammy,” you laid next to him and held out your arms, which he immediately moved into. “I love you knuckleheads to much,” you whispered against his head.

“Even when you have to visit Tony?” he asked against your shoulder.

“Tonys my family too Sam,” you said rubbing your hand along his back. “He needs my help more than you guys do most of the time though.”

“He’s older then Dean isn’t he?” he asked.

“Yeah, about 9 years older,” you answered and yawned softly, letting yourself relax with him.

“Dad said you’re the only family he has left,” he yawned after you.

“Your dads right,” you sighed. “He lost both his parents a few years ago, so I’m pretty much the only person he has left.”

“So why doesn’t he join us?” he asked so innocently it made your heart clench.

“He’s a part of a different life sweetheart,” you sighed. “He’s brilliant just like you though. He does what he can to run his daddys company, meaning you can do whatever you wanna do too.”

“Really?” he asked hopefully.

“Really,” you kissed his head as you felt him smile against your arm.

“You think dad will let me hunt with you guys soon then?” he asked nervously.

Sighing you dreaded the answer to that question. You wanted the Winchesters to live a normal life but you knew that John would never allow it. He changed in the years that you’ve known him, he’s became colder. Shit, he even had another son that neither Sam or Dean knew about. You only knew about it because he was drunk and practically throwing things the night he found out about it himself. You wanted your boys to live a good life, even if you had to sacrifice yours for them. “Maybe.”

“You guys are awesome,” he sighed. “Fighting monsters like superheroes.”

You smiled at that, thinking back to what you were looking at prior to him waking up. “Hey Sammy?”

“Yeah?” he hummed.

“Did I ever tell you of the real superhero I knew?” you sat back a little and looked down at him.

“No,” he looked back at you incredulously.

You moved away from him gently and sat back on the floor. “C’mere,” you smiled as he scurried off the bed. “Since neither of us have anything to do tomorrow, I’m gonna tell you a story,” you hadn’t realized that John had woken up at this point, just listening to your voice.

“Okay,” Sam looked at you with wide hazel eyes.

“A long time ago, before I met your father I was a part of another hunting group. A very important one,” you paused and pulled a photo of Thomas and yourself from your box. “This was my partner,” you handed him the picture which he took from you gently, squinting his eyes in the dim lighting. “He was an amazing hunter, taught me everything that I knew. He was my best friend,” you smiled slightly when Sam handed you back the photo.

“What happened to him?” he asked softly.

“He passed away,” you looked down at it with sad eyes before setting it back in the box. “But he did it doing what he love and he saved people along the way,” you heard movement from across the room and you made eye contact with the oldest Winchester, John just gave you a sad smile as you continued.

You looked back down as you set your photo back in the box before pulling another one out, a picture of Howard stark standing next to the machine that helped turned Steve into Captain America. “Who’s this?” he asked as you handed him the picture.

“That little man is Howard Stark,” you smiled sadly at him.

“This is Tony's dad?” he asked looking up at you incredulously.

“Yes, he and I worked together a long time ago,” you sighed and smiled softly. “As a hunter I worked with the government, meaning I knew some pretty important people. I worked alongside Howard on a very special project as the lead of my division.”

“What did you do?” he asked completely lost in your story.

“I helped on Operation Rebirth,” you said quietly and put a finger over your lips. “But you didn’t hear it from me,” you smiled as he giggled and handed you back the photo. “I didn’t get a chance to really know the professor who created the serum but he was brilliant.”

The next photo you pulled out was the photo of Steve prior to the serum. He was small but his eyes still held the warmth you had fallen in love with. “Who’s he?” Sam furrowed his brow and pursed his lips.

Before you answered you pulled the after photo of Steve right after the serum and handed it to him. “His name is Steve Rogers,” a smile ghosted your lips at the look of wonder Sam held in his eyes. “He became Captain America.”

“Really?” he looked up at you quickly, completely shocked you had photos of the one and only hero like this.  

“Mhm,” you pulled another photo out for him. It was the photo of you and your team during the war, including the Captain. “And this is was his team during the war.”

“That’s you?” he asked, immediately pointing to your picture.

“Yeah, it is. Good eye kid,” you laughed softly and took the photos back. “I was the one who trained Captain America, along with a few other soldiers. Ever since he became the super soldier I was by his side every day.”

“You were?” he now sat with his hands in his laps and his legs crossed.

“Yes, I was,” you sighed and set the photos back in the box. “I even fell in love with the man behind the mask.”

“What happened?” he asked innocently.

“We got deployed on a very secret mission. We needed to stop some very bad people from hurting millions of other people. On our way I got hurt,” you sighed and took a deep breath, trying your best not to relive the day like it was yesterday. “He saved my life and in the process I still lost him.”

“He died?” Sam asked softly. You hadn’t noticed the sad looks now given by both John and Dean who had recently woken up.

“Yeah, he died saving the world Sammy,” you bit your lip and looked at your box. “He was a hero, and you hear about what he did every day. You call us heroes,” you pointed to yourself and then the other two Winchesters. “But real heroics are earned, not granted. Just remember that little man.”

He just nodded his head and yawned. “So didn’t that happen during World War 2?”

“Yes Sam, it did,” you said.

“How are you still alive?” he asked, tilting his head. “And still so young.”

You noticed John sit up and was about to answer for you but you lifted your hand in his direction. So you explained to him what you were, at first he seemed frightened and tried to get away from you. However the more you explained it to him, the more he understood. He even embraced you as he heard your voice start to crack. The sun had finally started to rise by the time he had finally gotten back into bed, you tucking him in and kissing him on the head.

“You never told me all of that,” John had said as he made his way outside to you.

“Didn’t think it mattered much,” you didn’t look back at him, only leaning against the railing outside of your motel room.

“I told you about Mary,” he said sadly, leaning next to you.

“I told you about Steve,” you answered back curtly, still not looking at him.

“You didn’t tell me who he really was,” he shrugged and took a deep breath. “I figured his death was hard, but I didn’t expect that.”

“I don’t like talking about it,” you laughed dryly, finally looking at him. Noticing how his eyes were red and puffy. You chose not to address it.

“I can tell,” he smiled at you before look down at his truck and the beautiful black impala he let Dean drive. “I’m glad you did though, I know you’ve been having nightmares.”

“You do?” you asked genuinely shocked, you’ve always been quiet.

“I’ve seen you leave the room in the middle of the night or looking at old photos, I know the feeling. Didn’t take long for me to figure it out,” he pursed his lips and bumped his arm against yours. “Does it ever get easier?”

“Fuck no,” you laughed and pushed him back. “I miss him more everyday John, I barely ever cry and anytime something reminds me of him I just,” you took a deep breath.

“I get it,” he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into him. This was the John you remembered first meeting, not the hardened hunter the world made him.

“I dream about him all the time,” you sighed against him, wrapping one of your arms around his waist. “It’s so real, I never got a chance with him outside of the war,” you said pressing your head against his chest. “If I’m being honest, before I had Tony in my life I didn’t care if I died. I hunted pretty recklessly.”

“Well you’re almost indestructible so I don’t blame you anyways,” he kissed your temple. “I’m glad that I have you around for the boys though, having a trained assassin as a babysitter keeps me at ease.”

Elbowing him in the side you laughed at him. “You’re an ass.”

“You love me,” he smirked his famous Winchester smirked and pinched your side.

Looking back towards your shared room you smiled slightly at the sound of Sam laughing at something Dean must have done. You would be lying if you said you didn’t love the Winchesters and you’d be lying even more if you said you didn’t love Sam as your own. Ever since he was old enough to really talk and walk, he’s always been at your side. John and Dean often times claimed he was practically a mini you. He made your chest feel warm again, maybe not like Steve once did, but the longer you’ve known the Winchesters the more you felt whole.

“Yeah, I love you all.”

Part 07