#i so desperately want to just share my art and feel okay but I CANT ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHHH

[acaesic]

i really want to finish all my unfinished art before i turn 15 but im so burnt out rn 😭 </3

[suiana]

The death of an artist

he's always found you beautiful, even in your death and rebirth. you'll always be perfect to him. always

(yandere! musician x gn! reader) (cw: yandere stuff idk, im wiritng this while shitting i hope u enjoy my poopoo core, 2.04k words)

you might not have realised it but your silent admirer had always watched you.

he's watched you from the shadows, observing how you interact with others, how your eyes were once full of light and joy as you shared your paintings for the world to see.

it was beautiful.

you were beautiful.

he was but an aspiring musician back then. a couple of listeners here and there but never enough to fill up a concert hall. meanwhile you were a famous artist, with your paintings selling out for millions at all the art exhibitions you hosted.

you little admirer totally idolized you.

i mean, who wouldn't? all your paintings were so full of life, oh so meaningful, and most importantly, they were made with love.

love, love, love.

it was the one thing that made you stand out from all the hundreds and thousands of artists. the one thing that inspired him to even start writing songs.

your art made him feel loved. it made him feel wanted, even. he remembers how he'd get a fuzzy feeling from all your paintings, how it sent a delightful tingle up his spine as he takes in your carefully crafted masterpieces.

though there weren't any texts, all of your paintings spoke a thousand words. and they spoke to him.

with every new piece you put out, it was like he was getting to know you better. to know you on a personal level. it made his head spin and his heart leap in delight. after all, you were his idol. the one he admired so much that he began to pursue a music career dedicated to you. the career he once left behind in favour of living in this sad world.

though at one point in time, he hit a wall.

he couldn't get any ideas, no fresh inspiration for his music. the musician could only stare at his score as his mind desperately grasps at nothing. he felt like he was dying.

then you came through, like an angel of salvation.

well, looking back, you were more like a demon of salvation. especially because that one single text from you kick-started his disgusting love for you. it feels wrong to call you a demon though, not when you were so holy that he feels like touching you will corrupt your divine light.

he still remembers waking up and seeing your text on his instagram DMs. your bright red notification ping that gave him all the motivation he needed to think of a new idea.

'hey! just wanted to tell u i really enjoy ur music! cant wait to see u get famous >w<'

he swears he could die happy just seeing you message him. you messaged him. you know of his existence??? no fucking way bro. he still wonders if he used up all his luck when you messaged him so innocently that day.

of course... he responded and thus began a friendship (?) between the two of you.

friendship. yeah, maybe for you.

truth be told, he doesn't know if he ever saw you as a friend to begin with. he always thought you messaged him because you were interested in him too. whatever, these small details aren't important.

he released a love song not long after your first interaction with him. it instantly became a viral hit, taking his follower count from the thousands to the millions. he was glad it performed so well on the charts, they were his feelings to you after all.

the now famous musician had to thank you for getting him out of his rut. without you, he'd probably have gone back to doing medicine. so he did the best thing and that was to invite you out for a meal. he had to thank his muse, didn't he?

you were a little hesitant at first. that's okay, if anything he thought it was cute that you were suspicious of him. there will be plenty of time for you to warm up to him later.

the little get-together, or first date as he likes to call it, went well! you two saw each other in real life for the first time! and boy was he smitten. if he was unsure about whether he was in love with you before, he sure as hell was sure now.

you were so much more lovely in real life than you were over text. all smiles and laughs, your admirer feels that his songs didn't do you justice.

"this was fun! let's do this again!"

oh for sure he will do it again. he just wants you all to himself now. to keep you with him, a never-ending source of inspiration for the rest of his life. his beloved muse. the one he writes for. the one his songs are dedicated to. his.

so your falling off played out nicely in his favour. you were trying out an experimental style, said that he inspired you. it was one that not many would be able to understand at first glance, completely different from what your previous one was. your loyal fans stood by your side of course, him included. but the general public eventually started ignoring your newer pieces in favour for something they didn't need to use much thought to understand. for someone fresh, someone new.

he could see the way the light in your eyes slowly started to dim at the lack of interaction. sure, you said that fame wasn't important to you, that all you wanted was to showcase your art to the world.

but your little admirer could tell that it was bothering you more than you'd like to admit.

he saw the way your texts with him grew more erratic, the way the vibrant life in your eyes started to slowly dim, the way you started pushing out more works to compensate for the style change. you were desperate for the attention you once received. the way you changed in real time, becoming a slave to the consumers, like an animated robot that pushed out art just for the sake of it...

it was a little sad to see to be honest. it was like you were there, but you also weren't, you know? your name was on the artwork but he didn't see you in it.

but he was glad things turned out the way it did. it meant that he could be there for you when you cried and felt like a mistake. it meant that he could offer you a shoulder to cry on when the times were really bad.

"there there, it's alright. just let it all out."

his gentle caresses as you cried your heart out into his chest... it was delightful to see you depend on him so much. that you'd come seeking comfort from him in such a dark period of your life. he felt so wanted by you.

meanwhile, his fame was only growing larger by the day. while you were on a path to being forgotten, he was making a name for himself in the music industry. brand deals, billboards, advertisements. he was everywhere, like a ghost haunting you, to remind you that your friend was thriving while you weren't.

the musician wonders whether you've ever hated him. that you'd think he was stealing all of your fame. after all, your fame went down not long after you messaged him. he really wonders whether you've ever blamed him for making a change in your art style.

it doesn't matter now.

the artist in you was gone.

"hey, what if you make me an album cover?"

you only stared at him with dark eyes before looking away. everyone around you had slowly started distancing themselves from you. the change in your personality and looks had scared them. everyone but him had stayed. his words about horrid snakes deceiving you fill your head as you cling to the attention he gave you. who were you to deny your only friend left?

"sure."

you didn't give much thought when designing his new album. it was an avant garde album that had themes about desperation, love, and death.

how ironic, you thought.

you gave the complete piece to him a few days after, heavy bags under your eyes as your friend hugged and kissed your cheek. he's been taking care of you recently. having you move in with him, cooking you food and covering all of your expenses. he treated you like a lover. albeit you found it a bit weird that he told you not to leave without his consent. said that he didn't want people to harass you. you found it sweet of him. you were glad that he cared for you so much.

"my dear artist friend designed my new album cover, yes. i think they were a perfect fit to help design this particular album cover. they're..."

your fame immediately came back. interviews, likes, commissions, the things you were once familiar with came running back at full force after your friend's interview with a big channel.

you think if this happened earlier you'd have caved under the attention. the big spotlight, fans.... the attention will always be intoxicating. even now, you feel yourself smiling at the number of notifications you're receiving from strangers.

but you've realized that their attention is only temporary. the second you grow irrelevant they'll drop you again. just like they did before.

the only one who matters is your friend. the one who whispered sweet nothings and reassured you when you were drowning in a mass of nothingness. the one who gave you the attention you craved.

you immediately started a new piece in a new style.

'Intertwined'

a painting that gave you more fame than what you initially had before. it was a piece about self enlightenment, discovery, and contentment. and some claimed that it was the best painting that you've ever made. a masterpiece.

you showed your friend your work right after you were done and you could've sworn you saw a hint of shock in his eyes. maybe also fear? you don't know.

"this is... beautiful."

his words were slow, gaze intense as he stared at your painting for what felt like hours. you think he was mesmerized. you never asked him.

you made another painting after that.

'final duet'

again, people claimed that it was a masterpiece. your friend looked stunned again and he called it beautiful like always. he told you that he's never seen something so artistically perfect before and that he's proud of you. you like it. his compliments make you happy.

"this one is for you."

you made another piece. a simple painting of him in your style.

'untitled.jpg'

"is... it mine now?"

he proceeded to draw you into the painting as well after your words. you didn't understand what he was doing. but you found it cute. he was drawing you?

"there. now it's perfect."

he smiles down at you before pressing a kiss to your forehead like he always does. you've grown so used to his kisses that you were expecting one already. you lean into his touch before smiling softly.

"i'm so happy with you."

"me too."

the seed of life was sprouting once more, growing around the stem that it's learnt to grow dependent on.

he was everything to you. you feel like you'd die without him. but you know it'll never happen because your dearest friend will always remain by your side. he promised you. his words are like gold. he's the only one who matters.

you never want to be apart ever again.

thus you made your final masterpiece about love and dedication. a flower thriving in a dark environment and growing to love the dark, having died in the shining light once before.

'rebirth'

the blinds to the outside world shut on the two of you. no one else is important. he tells you he loves you. you repeat it. his hands wrap around you as you lean into his cold touch. you're cold too. you used to be warm once, he says he likes you cold better. shutting your eyes, all you focus on is the steady beating of his heart.

now no one will ever bother the two lovers ever again.

[bendarius]

I was just thinking, Do you think Ben gf is real? I personally believe it's some kinda of catfish...

Well, it's just that seeing him as straight is just UNIMAGINABLE to me. I know people are saying he can be bi/pan but Camp Cretaceous never gave us ANY possible hint of Ben liking girls... Also, I doubt they would officialize Ben as bi or pan someday. So, if he's not coded as bi/pan or officialized as it, we kind of just got queerbaited :( ?

It is not about he ending or not with someone, the thing is that the whole girlfriend reveal felt just like a way of trying to make the viewer stop doubting about Ben's queerness in general. I say that bc is kinda of obvious fans ALWAYS saw a lot of queerness in his character since the beginning of the first show, and is ingenuity to think they arent aware of the viewers' opinions about Ben...

Ps: I love ur blog so much🙌❤️

i think its clear what i think considering i wrote that fic....and no we didnt get queebaited. that would need the crew to promise that there would be more lgbt and we were never told that. its okay to read them as gay. to be fair staight is still the default but he also wasn't shown to like guys either (subtext isnt proof, didnt drop lines like "i mean i think hes cute") meanwhile darius w the beautiful boy line and how desperate he was to keep ben could be read as some kind of proof. i see him as gay no matter what because him liking girls is unfathomable to me....i seriously dont think he has a gf. if anything it wont last bc why are you long distance dating your first gf...scared of sharing irl moments w her?....

i want to work on the benrius subtext analysis. it makes me feel better that people on the crew actually see it too bc i feel less insane. but again crew art isnt official (thank god bc of that kenji darius yaoi satire) or reflective of the shows plot. itd be great if there was some benrius hint but im fine with just reading into their interactions. ben does feel gay to me in many ways with his identity and feeling comfortable in himself but with that theme its very easy to equate it. im just glad theres room for interpretation due to how he presented his gf. in the end its just abt perception, i think theres a reason who we dont rly learn a lot abt his gf. just cause he says he has one is like.....very much room to think otherwise

and thank you so much! i appreciate it, even though im not as active anymore benrius still has a huge place in my heart and i cant wait for their future interactions for real. ill always love them bc of how much chemistry they have. i like ships that have canon chemistry bc its so much easier to imagine a future w them.....hopefully benrius goes down as one of the most coded gay ships trust

[localgardenweed]

Ok I was originally gonna write how I wanna go back to Eddsworld and do stuff for it again but felt out of the loop with the modern fandom and shit but ended up being a rant about how I hate Beyond so like gonna write this again but keeping part of the rant cause i need to share how much i cant stand Beyond again

So like I wanna come back to Eddsworld cause as much as it was a dumpster fire for me it was my first real fandom I was apart of online so it holds a place in my heart. I mean probably technically whatever I did on Framecast was my first ever online fandom space but shhhh that dont count i was but a wondering traveler looking for my place in the world. It actually got me into Eddsworld someone made a animation to Youth by Daughter and had me hooked. But still was very important to me and my art development.

Its so crazy to me cause i was into Eddsworld HARD in the 2016-2020 era where alot of the ig modern fandom was born i watched cities fall and crumble I was deep in the amino trenches, Pork Sodaing and seeing so much historical fandom events happen before your eyes. I was watching everyone consume every piece of Prince of Mints and Moho art I was a sucker for them which probably wasn’t okay for like a 5th grader but i definitely turned out all right /j.

I left for a little bit on and off cause Hetalia was choking me and like keeping me prisoner but like it still had a place in my heart for it but like ya know i still was there but idk now I just dont find the same spark anymore from the first go around. Something changed and maybe cause i just had my tastes change and maybe cause my ex-best friend was making fun of my oc all the time but i made him when i was like 11 and figuring out identities and ways to express yourself without sticking to the gender norms and dealing with alot of stuff at the time i finally caved and just didn’t feel the same any anymore about the show.

Cause I loved that fandom more than anything but, I don’t know I just don’t know how to get back that spark and go frolic in the fields with my TomTordOc love triangle of my 5th grader dreams and just be cringe and free and feel joy again but I just cant enjoy the material anymore like THEY ARE MASSACRING MY BOYS WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO THEMM

It doesn’t hit the same and i know i dont need to consume Beyond i doubt anyone actually does at this point but i cant stand beside while they murder everything i loved about the Classic and Legacy eras.

Also just, I think I hit a road block with it too like, I got stuck on where to do and what to do with Eddsworld like. I make aus i made ocs i made a ask blog i made animatics, now what? And like idk i felt weird and like stuck in the mud with them. Also just had the friend falling out who was also the co-creator of the ask blog so now i dont know how to pick it back up all by myself again but them again i really was just doing it by myself all the time anyway so i just have to figure out how to get back into the swing of things

I have some ideas for aus and maybe just finally be free and bring my oc back from the grave for realsies and make you all consume it but, I don’t know. Im scared to come back cause also weirdly alot of the new fans are younger than me or the older fans are older than me so its kinda awkward, also im just awkward im scared to talk to people online, there is and were some people i desperately wanted to be friends with both in and out of Eddsworld but im too scared and either just watch from afar or abuse the Anonymous function in ask boxes. 

If i cave enough i might come back to Eddsworld to at least finish my lore for the ask blog cause IM SORRY I LEFT YALL HANGING I HAD SCHOOL AND THEN JUST FORGOT ABOUT IT but forever haunted by the people who like every single post and then i get excited cause i see like 99+ notes waiting for me and i think one of my new posts blew up but no its just the ew boys who screw around likes and reblog and the occasional comment

One day ill return to my rightful birthplace and one day I shall be free and one with nature and draw as much as I want for it and as many ocs i want without someone telling me its cringe or make more for the ask blog or hell start doing animation and animatics again

Ok here is the Beyond rant now if you wanna read it

I feel the difference between Beyond and Legacy is that, Beyond is trying to horriblycopy their older brothers Classic and Legacy and almost dumb it down a bit with more childish humor, and Legacy takes inspiration from Classic: It’s different but a natural difference/evolution. Or the fact a whole new guy was writing it all with a slightly different style so he wrote what he knew idk maybe a bit of a factor idk

Also i cant stand the Tord bait sorry I cant, especially when they used to like get annoyed by the fandom by asking and then just realized he was a cash cow so like now we get Tord merch and the hints and Tori and the skit with the cavemen like OMG TORD- and he got crushed by a rock thanks gang, cause like dude I think as much as we love Tord like maybe this go around respect Larson’s choice to like not use him in the series anymore and take him out but like ig that doesn’t apply to merch so yeah lets do one more go around bring out the red one. Or idk maybe they contacted him and was like “yo dude can we like use him for merch” but i dont think that happened. I think it was just better to leave him absent from the show and be like “yeah no Tord guys, no Tord” and we could have all had our thumbs up and be like “Ok Eddsworld Beyond we are okay with that”. Like I know Red October was for charity but idk it still felt weird to use Tord, like could this really not have just been the main 3 or like bring in some deep cut old characters or side characters did we really need Tord here.

[qwizzers]

so i just found your youtube channel like a few minutes ago and I really enjoyed your video talking about different types of social media and your own personal experience/opinions on them because ive been bouncing back and forth between social medias. I personally miss the old twitter and instagram format but ever since instagram has been turned into a reel-obsessed platform it is very difficult to get reach there so i think twitter has been my most safest/casual posting experience for me. i felt like on instagram i had so much pressure to post reels and i never gave in but it was just super frustrating, sometimes really wanting to just completely leave it entirely, but for now i guess im trying to just post more. im not a tumblr user really but i had this tumblr acc ages ago so i decided to log back in just to message here, but i wanted to ask, if theres any way we can talk further abt this privately i would love to go more in depth ! i dont check tumblr often so im not even sure if you will ever answer this haha, or how i would know if you did or not, but i guess a question that also comes to mind is, how do you post without overthinking? i have so much art i make so many doodles and unfinished wips, and people post wips all the time ! and its like, i cannot bring myself to do that either... im scared of someone either tracing over my art/stealing my art /ocs and just im not sure i guess posting wips makes me not want to finish the art, but when i dont post often i often feel pressure to post fully rendered stuff and sometimes ! i just wanna post a cute furry oc with thigh socks is that so much to ask !!!!!!! XD,,, i kind of scare myself out of posting, but how do i make myself more comfortable with posting without worrying? i scare myself from doing anything haha, i WANT to be more active ! and i want to post more oc stuff and even fanart, but i always make excuses like "nah ill do that when i get better, or ill do it when the drawing is finished" and sometimes i dont even post finished sketches or art !!!!!! i will take any suggestions or anything, but im desperate to break this bad habit,,,, and also ! another question is, how do people code their toyhouse? i saw you explain it in the video a bit, and i recently just got my toyhouse to post oc stuff, but im not sure how people code their card.co, and toyhouse so if theres any sort of website or program or anything i can use to do this please let me know ! i really want to decorate my stuff more :3,,, anyways im not sure if you publically post these.... but if i can somehow post my discord somewhere so we can talk further please let me know !

okay, this ask was super sweet and i want to just say thank u bc it was a fun read :3 hopefully if you do see this response - i have a discord if you want to add me and talk, its qwizzers! i have a website (https://qwizz.carrd.co) and you can see all the sites that i use there so if you use any as well you can contact me there!

so my input on avoiding overthinking b4 you post is to start sharing your work in smaller places to build up your confidence! if you're worried about tracing/stealing, i don't want to say that's not a legitimate concern, bc it IS, however i will say it really doesn't happen too often! ive been around for years and i dont think ive...ever had anyone trace me, the most i've seen is heavy referencing and usually if you bring it to their attention, they instantly stop - when this happens i say it's 70% of the time just young kids that don't realize what theyre doing is wrong or didnt realize youd find out. you can also watermark your work! theres nothing wrong with watermarks, even if its just on a sketch! while it cant necessarily guard against tracers, it can guard against blatant theft. you dont necessarily have to post your work in progresses if doing so demotivates you; but you dont have to exclusively post fully rendered art, either. try to get into a habit of making doodles n more simple art in between your big pieces, and get into the swing of posting those! if you feel like you havent posted in a while, just make a quick doodle or something along those lines and share that! you can build up your confidence with posting online in general by starting small - you could start by sharing your art in discord servers or with your friends so you get more confident about sharing your work regularly. "ill do this when i'm good enough" is a SUPER detrimental train of thought...bc there will never be a point where you'll admit to yourself that you feel like you're ready. that's just a part of the artistic progression :') if you have that mindset, you'll ALWAYS have that mindset, and you'll never actually do the projects that you want to! if you think its outside your ability, it probably isnt really, and you should give it a go anyways! even if it doesnt look perfect or turn out exactly how you wanted it to, you'll probably still be happy in the end bc u gave it your best effort :]

heres my bit on toyhouse:

if you know how to code w html, all you have to do is press "edit profile" on a character and you can code directly into the big box field! if you're not seeing that, it has to do with your settings (which i can explain more in depth if need be) if you ARENT familiar w html, thats fine too! you can find a TON of free to use toyhouse code templates, and a lot of them even explain exactly how to use them! basically you can copy and paste their code for free into your character profile, and just change the text so it fits your character :3 i have a favorite folder for all the neat free to use codes i see, here's a link: https://toyhou.se/Qwizz/favorites/79962 *my toyhouse is kind of eyestrainy btw!) carrd is a seperate website: https://carrd.co you can make a carrd for free and its much more straightforward, you basically just drag text boxes/images in and customize the site how youd like :3

[glittergutts]

I've been having a stressful morning. And I need to process my thoughts about preparing for treatment.

First we couldn't figure out the money to get all the stuff I need to take to treatment and I had a cry about feeling like I shouldn't even go. I didn't know all my vitamins and supplements had to be unopened until the other day and it cost a lot to buy all at once.

Figured it out with the last of our available credit and my supplements and stuff should be here tomorrow and Sunday just in time for me to leave Monday morning.

Loki is extra whiney today. Like he won't chill out and I want to yell because I do not understand what he wants. I wish he would lay down and let me rub him when I'm sad. He refuses to be comforting.

My anxiety started getting really bad when I was on the phone with my mom and she was slamming me with question after question. She's always like that but today I couldn't handle it. She's asking things I can't answer and reminding me how out of control even my best plan is.

So after awhile I took the anxiety pill and convinced myself to get out of bed. I found some pretzels that looked pretty plain and a Gatorade and even though I barely had any of either I feel uncomfortably full. I think all the days of skipping food has started to really hurt my body.

I got the okay to bring ensure drinks to treatment but I'm not even sure if I like them I just have to have the calories in a drink (because i cant fucking eat 360 calories at once) so I can take my latuda and I normally drink a Chai protein thing at home. I'm going to ask Chris to bring home a few flavors I can try so I can figure out which type to buy.

The food at treatment is close to nothing. They do cook dinners but it's always meat or something I don't eat so I have to fend for myself the whole stay. Once I lived off orange cups and plain Oatmeal for 12 days. I was so happy to eat again when I discharged.

I hope it's better this time I wish I was allowed to just bring my own food but I understand why they don't allow that.

I need to wash all my laundry today so I can figure out what clothes I'm bringing and get my bag ready. I'm waiting on a night gown from Amazon. I don't want to sleep in a big tee shirt there like I do at home because it doesn't feel safe and private to be pantsless. I bought a nice pair of sleep shorts when I went a few years ago and I'm going to bring those again and I think having 2 sleep outfits should be fine as long a I don't have sweat nightmares. They have laundry there if I do need to wash anything.

Also because of covid the rooms aren't shared anymore so I have the privacy to use the bathroom or change or sleep in my room whenever I want to. Hell I can take a shower at 3 am and nobody would stop me. Although I'll be trying to sleep and behave like the functional person I want to be. It's just a relieving idea to have some space and freedom.

I'm desperately hoping having the time to focus on my needs and health will let me leave a little better of a person or at be able to take better care of myself and family. I'm tired of letting myself down.

I found some nice skincare things in mini containers I can bring with that will make shower time a little more enjoyable. I have some fidget toys in a bag and some art supplies with a folder that has paper and coloring sheets inside. I'm going to bring my comfort pillow and my favorite squishmallow plushies. I just need to take a few pictures of my family and I feel like I tried my best to bring comfort with me. I got to order aromatherapy balm sticks because I can't have essential oils and I don't see why I couldn't have these so I feel good about my supply of comfort things.

I used to take so much klonapins and do normal stuff like safely drive my car but I feel heavily medicated this time like I need to lay down. At least I'm not having a panic attack and I had some food.

[vencyrus]

just gonna rapid fire some awful thoughts that would make my brother hit me over the head with a metal bat // just kidding i accidentally started ranting about my bpd

as an aromantic that is desperately clawing at the chance to feel love, i fear i would become a "he know where home at" kinda gal but i think the concept, while horrifying irl, would make such a beautiful literary device

i have been drawing myself for goretober but not posting any of it bc i think it might be a form of self harm and i dont want to face this problem with my therapist yet

me posting art is actually exposure therapy as suggested by my therapist for my bpd because i crave attention in such a bad way that it actively affects my mood and motovation for weeks at a time when i spend so much time on something only to recieve no recognition for it

this honestly would be a non issue if my friends would actually talk to me bc i used to be okay with sharing things with just the two of them but theyre both so busy all the time and they dont really make the effort to talk to me so it is so disheartening that i dont even try to talk to them that much anymore

i want to make new friends bc i got some rly cool mutuals and ive met some rly nice ppl in the mistria server but i fear i am not in the proper headspace to be making new friends and my therapist agrees but it has been so lonely lately

i also have not had an FP in like years which is really good progress but thats also such a long time to be lonely. im a very codependant person. ive spent so much of my younger days attached to people that i really dont know who i am without that but id like to find out.

i think the combination of aromantic and boderline personality disorder is going to end me bc i want to be able to give my entire being to one person so much that it hurts to be away from them and i want them to feel the same way but i cant love them in a way that truly matters and thats just not fair for them. and im not being fair to myself either because im just essentially looking for someone to leech onto, someone to tell me how i should feel, someone to emulate, someone to admire. ive spent so much of my life being other people i dont think ive ever known how to be myself

i cannot feel the calm i feel when im drawing. its becoming such a vicious cycle of drawing to decompress then spending the next few hours stressing when something doesnt do well then drawimg again. lather rinse repeat

anyway! i hate being vulnerable but man does it feel good to throw this all out into the void. its like letting loose a message in a bottle out to sea. so just to balance all that, let me just say some out of pocket stuff since no one is gonna read this far into it.

im a coulro/dacry/hemo-phi11iac.

one time, in the middle of a Hook^ my partner noticed my glasses faintly glew in the dark so she wanted to turn off the lights so i could pretend to be the invisible man from hotel translyvania

this dude was tryna be flirty by speaking french but my native language is super ugly tbh and im not fluent in chamorro or carolinian bc im so disconnected with the other side of my herritage so i just whispered omae wa moe shindeiru in return

[mythoughtsforyourpenny]

My mom has been dead for 17 days

I’m sad

and broken

and overall at this very exact moment kind of okay I guess?

he’s gone for work this week so i’ll be alone

i’m starting a grief group tomorrow

with art

i love art so much

i never want to teach art again

i cant be a teacher anymore

my friend said im allowed to be bad at my job

the years almost over

i can keep my insurance until july at least

god its fucked up to profit off of your moms death

but maybe it will buy me some desperately needed freedom

i havent worked in three weeks

even in my grief its been amazing to not have to work

to spend time with him and do what i want and create when i want

i want to create so badly

i want this grief to be worth something

i want to make something from all this

i want it to propel me in life somewhere

somewhere better

i miss her

i dont feel her

i guess i thought i would feel her more

i asked her for a sign

maybe i got it and i couldnt see it

maybe its coming later

or maybe not

i feel like i cant share her with anyone

my dad is gone

im an only child

i know that isnt true

with all the donations it cant be true

but i feel so alone

i feel 16

im not supposed to be doing all of this adult shit

i dont want to be resilient

i just want my mom

[dysfunctionalcrab]

babysitter

pairing: georgenotfound x reader

pronouns: gender neutral

description: george is left to babysit your niece

warnings: mentions of a future family? just in case that makes you uncomfortable.

[y/n/n] - your nieces name

[y/s/n] - your siblings name (gender neutral too)

note: i’m not too sure about this imagine, please a like or reply if you actually enjoyed! - niss

you woke up to the sound of your alarm blasting your ear off, if you hadn’t turned it off right there you probably would have gone deaf.

george was sleeping like a baby beside you, you could hear his quiet snores. you were surprised he didn’t wake up to the sound of your ear-piercing alarm.

turning on your phone, you glanced at the time that read 12:30. you sighed in annoyance as you registered that you only had half an hour before you had to be on your way to university. so you got up and began your normal morning routine, brush your teeth, shower, have breakfast and finally get dressed. however, as you were packing your bag, almost ready to go, you received a notification from your [sibling]

[y/s/n]: we’re 5 minutes away!!!

[y/s/n]: thank you so much for agreeing to do this :)

fuck.

it completely slipped your mind. you had promised to take care of [y/n/n] for today, your 7 year old niece, while your [sibling] was at their job interview. regardless, you texted them a quick ‘no problem’ before rushing upstairs to wake up george.

he was still sleeping, but now he was completely hiding under the covers with one arm sticking out. you hated to interrupt his beauty sleep but this was more important. you began to shake him awake.

“babe,” you shook him

“wake up,”

“george,” you removed the covers off his face

“wake the fuck up!” you started poking his sides. usually, you would be a little less... harsh, but you were panicking.

finally the boy rose from his slumber, groaning and stretching all his limbs. he blinked a couple times before meeting your eyes

“good morning,” he said softly, as if he completely just disregarded your tone of desperation and worry.

you pulled him by his arm and he sat upright,

“you need to get up right now,” you told him

“what’s going on?” he questioned, clearly confused as you weren’t giving him any context

“you need to take care of [y/n/n] for today, i have classes today, and i need to leave in 5 minutes and [y/s/n] has a job interview and there’s nobody else to take care of her,” you rushed out all in once sentence.

“are you serious?” he narrowed his eyes at you. “you know how bad i am with kids, especially [y/n/n] , she hates me,”

that was partly true. unfortunately, your niece wasn’t exactly fond of george. ever since you even started dating,m, [y/n/n] acted cold towards your boyfriend, it only got worse when you moved in with him. she always refused to play a game if george was going to participate, or never accepted any high fives or hellos from him. you felt sympathy for george. this child despised him and now you were asking him to look after her.

“please, i’m begging you,” you looked at him with pleading eyes. his eyes softened up after recognising the urgency of the situation.

“fine,” he agreed. you sighed out of satisfaction that you didn’t have to stress out [y/s/n] over finding a new baby sitter.

“thank you so much,” you pressed a small kiss to his lips appreciatively.

right at that moment, you two heard the doorbell ring. you urged george to get ready as fast as he could while you went down stairs and greeted your [sibling] and your niece.

“auntie/uncle [y/n]!” [y/n/n] yelled as you opened the door, immediately rushing into your arms. she looked a lot taller than the last time you saw her

“how’s my favourite girl?” you picked her up and swung her, before placing a little kiss on her head

you gave your [sibling] a quick hug. they handed you a bag full of toys, teddies and colouring pens, along with a spare set of clothing just in case [y/n/n] got a little messy throughout the day. and some quick reminders about her favourite foods or how to get her stop crying. you’d looked after her before, so all of it was pretty familiar to you

“again, thank you so, so much, you have no idea how much you’re helping me.” they told you. your [sibling] gave [y/n/n] a kiss on the cheek and told her to be a ‘good and kind little girl’ before finally exiting the household.

george, at last, made his way down. wearing a decent pair of jeans and a hoodie, giving an awkward wave to [y/n/n]

you checked the time and knew you had to get going. you had to explain to her that uncle george was going to be the one looking after her today. and after one whole tantrum, you managed to convince her to be a good girl by promising to give her a big reward afterward.

finally, you kissed [y/n/n] and george a goodbye , then shut the front door behind you.

george and [y/n/n] stood opposite each other. there was an uncomfortable silence in the air. george felt so...he didn’t even know. what do you say to a child who hates you? [y/n/n] tightly clutched her bag of toys.

“so, [y/n/n],” george cleared his throat, he bent down to her level. “i hear you like toy story?”

[y/n/n] pouted “i don’t like you” she said, and stomped away.

george sighed. this was going to be a long day.

and it was.

-

it started off with [y/n/n] innocently using her colouring pens and drawing random things, you know, as children do. but when she ran out of paper, she made her way to your office, where all your uni work was. she grabbed the closest piece of paper that was sitting on your desk, deciding it was going to be the next canvas for her art. this paper just happened to be a very important assignment.

when george caught her in the act, he had to physically tear her away from your office, in defiance of all her kicking and screaming.

-

then, when george accidently left the door to your shared bedroom open. [y/n/n] waddled in without him noticing, she started playing with all of his devices. his computer, his microphone, and somehow she got a hold of his headphones, and took out the battery. george didn’t realise until he noticed the cover missing. he tried to ask her nicely where she threw the battery. but she insisted that she wasn’t going to give it back unless he stopped being ‘mean’

-

when lunch time rolled around, george put a pizza in the oven, he remembered clearly that [y/n/n] loved pizza, specifically pepperoni. nothing could go wrong here.

but when he called her to the kitchen so she could receive her lunch. she just stared blankly at the pizza, and then at him. she crossed her arms

“[y/n] usually makes a smiley face with the pepperoni”

george just felt all his will to live just disappear

-

coloured pens and toys were spread out all across the living room floor, [y/n/n] was sitting in front of the tv, george put on one of her favourite shows which thankfully distracted her for a bit, allowing him to relax. he pulled out his phone and texted you

to [y/n] <3 : help me please

to [y/n] <3: i cant take this anymore, i’m literally dying rn

to [y/n] <3: come home quick

he exhaled heavily, throwing his phone to the side. he was so exhausted.

[y/n/n] was roleplaying with her toys, making them move around and doing squeaky little voices. george smiled at the innocence

“purple bear doesn’t play with us anymore. princess giraffe, mr. george took her away from us,” she spoke in a high pitched voice

george’s ears perked up. how funny that she had a teddy named ‘mr. george’. curiously, he watched the little girl.

“koala george, is a meanie, he stole purple bear and now they don’t want to hang out with us!”

it didn’t take a genius to find out what [y/n/n] was displaying through her role playing teddies.

that was why she didn’t like george. before they got together, [y/n] mentioned they almost spent every weekend with [y/n/n], playing with her and having fun with her.

she felt abandoned by [y/n] and felt as if george had taken them away from her .

george felt at fault as he noticed the girls eyes started to water.

“does purple bear love us any more?” she continued to play.

george decided it was enough and he switched off the television. he joined [y/n/n] on the floor and grabbed the teddy that was supposedly ‘koala george’

“[y/n/n]” he spoke softly. the little girl looked up at him expectantly. he held up the teddy.

“is this supposed to be me?” he questioned her.

“that’s a koala bear,” she answered

“no-, [y/n/n],” he said. he thought about how to ask her, and just chose it was best to be flat out with the child,”

“did i steal auntie/uncle [y/n] away from you?”

the question took her by surprise. she gazed at him with big wide eyes. she thought about her answer and grabbed the purple bear, which was supposed to be you.

“they don’t play with me as much anymore, they’re always with you, because of you, they don’t love me anymore,” she pulled a face, it wasn’t angry, it wasn’t annoyed.

it was a genuinely sad face.

george was sure he physically felt a pang of guilt in his stomach. he never even comprehended the fact that a child could feel so rejected.

“listen... [y/n/n],” he said gently. he thought about his words. comforting someone wasn’t exactly his strongest point, particularly not a child who detested him “[y/n] will never stop loving you, okay? they love you very much, and i’m sorry you feel like i stole them ”

[y/n/n] continued to listen.

“but don’t forget that [y/n] has so much love to go around! look, they love you, and they love me, they love grandma and grandpa too! they will always love one another even if they can’t see each other often,”

[y/n/n] stayed silent. she fiddled with the purple teddy, folding its ears and patting its head. she loved that bear. it was actually gifted to her by you, when she was first born. she brought it to her chest and hugged it. george tried a different approach.

“listen, how about- this weekend, we can all go to the park together, and have a picnic. you, me, [y/n], and your parents too,”

she continued to just stay silent. george didn’t know what to expect, she was unpredictable, was she going to throw another hissy fit? or start to cry? he wasn’t sure

“can we also get ice cream?” she asked

george smiled and felt himself relax. thank god. “all the ice cream you want,” he told her

[y/n/n] stood up and giggled. like her whole entire mood did a whole fucking 180. “okay! let’s go play dress up now!”

———

7:45 pm. you finally arrived home. you were tired out of your mind. [y/s/n]’s interview was delayed by two hours and was currently half way back home, meaning you had enough time to spend with [y/n/n]

you unlocked the door, expecting to see a giant tsunami of toys and colouring pencils and pens, but what you saw was the most heart warming thing ever.

george was sleeping on the couch, his head resting on the armrest. he had a couple pink bows in his hair, his lips were painted a hot pink, he was wearing a couple sparky bracelets and a purple floral necklace.

in his lap, [y/n/n] rested her head, she was wearing a fairy costume with matching pink bows and sparkly bracelets.

you quickly snapped a photo of this wholesome moment. because, who wouldn’t? you spent a few minutes just watching the two sleep, they were probably just as tired as you.

moments like these made you really appreciate the people you had in your life. the people you love so dearly much.

you didn’t want to disrupt the ambience but you felt it was better for your [sibling] to collect your niece when she wasn’t covered in glitter and an overload of pink accessories.

you quietly woke george up,

“baby, wake up.” you shook him awake, gently. in a very different way than you did this morning. he opened his eyes. and immediately smiled upon seeing your face. you ran your thumb across his cheek

“it looks like you two had a lot of fun,” you teased.

he quietly chuckled. “she’s okay,” he told you. looking down at the little girl sleeping in his lap.

you slowly and carefully picked her up, removing any accessories you thought may seem uncomfortable to sleep in. she was a heavy sleeper.

you carried her upstairs, tucking her into you and george’s bed and placing a kiss upon her forehead. you turned back to george and rushed in for a bear hug

“thank you so much for doing that,” you said. “i love you so much, i know it probably wasn’t easy, she can be quite the handful,”

george chuckled. “handful is an understatement,”

“you’d better be willing to dress up like that with our own kids one day.” you stated, hugging him tighter.

his face broke out into a small smile, having thought of an image of you two playing with you future kids. he kissed top of your head and then your nose

“maybe one day”

———

masterlist

[stopbeingcurious]

You make me feel young again*

PART THREE / MASTERLIST

pairing: post azkaban sirius black x y/n

warning: dirty thoughts/ letters

a/n i had so many request to make more of this series so here we are... enjoy :P

A couple of weeks had gone past, without any contact from Sirius and yours and Professor Lupins relationship had gone back to normal, like nothing had ever happened.

The only thing on your mind was the way Sirius touched you, how his skin felt against yours. You missed it.

You remember the words Sirius spoke the last and only time you were together;

“Not many girls like you,”

Not many girls like you? The way Sirius spoke about his time as a teenager he made it sound like he had slept around.

It was taunting your mind, you wanted to see Sirius again, you needed too. You daydreamed in class about him, at lunch in the shower, in bed. You needed that mans affection again.

It got so bad that you were loosing sleep, you were genuinely so aroused that you couldn't sleep at night, not with a puddle and a heartbeat between your legs.

You thought you could relieve some of the tension yourself but of course that didn't work, just made it worse. 

You needed male attention.

And of course your friends caught onto your behaviour changes, asking you a variety or questions when you left your dorm room looking like a disheveled mess.

In other words, you were desperate.

class

You're currently sitting in class, potions to be exact, listening to Professor Snape bore on about how it's illegal to become animagi underage. You had no interest whatsoever in the subject at hand so decided to rest your head on your hand and let your mind wander. What you didn't remember was that Professor Snape was a skilled Legilimens. His voice rung out from the front of the class just as your mind wandered in the direction it had been for a while now, Sirius.

“Y/n, I suggest you concentrate if you don't want your fellow classmates and I knowing what you're thinking about,” His eyes narrowed in your direction, pulling everyones attention from their work, all eyes on you. Some smirks, some confused, some bothered because they had been distracted.

You let out a silent huff as you switch your attention to the parchment in front of you.

common room

Your friends surround you, all looking intrigued. They had just interrupted you from reading your book sitting next to the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room.

“We know somethings up Y/n, would you just give up and tell us already!” Angelina flung her arms around in expression. She was pulled out of her expressive state with a hand on her shoulder, Freds.

“Ange is right Y/n, we just wanna know if there was anything we could do to help.” Fred asks, his body was slouched forwards slightly so he didn't seem as intimidating as he usually did.

You measure your friends that you're okay and that you're just not getting enough sleep. 

You were so into your book and now your attention has been snatched by your brain again, filling your vision with images of that night, the night where right went wrong, the night of your life.

You'd had enough of this tormenting, the only way you could get to Sirius was through Professor Lupin and you had an idea.

You proceeded to write Sirius a letter, a very detailed letter, just to bless his imagination as much as you blessed his everyday but the your mind flooded with questions; What if Sirius didn't want to see you again? Is that why he hadn't contacted you first? Did he think you were just a one time thing? But Sirius thought the complete opposite of this.

Sirius received your letter, Remus handed it to him with a stern look on his face.

“I didn't read it, I respect your privacy Sirius but you have to be smart about it,” Sirius knew straight away who the letter was from. Remus sat at the table opposite him in their shared home.

“We don't know what it says yet Moony,” Sirius scoffs and opens the letter.

Dear Sirius,

If Prof. Lupin is around, do not show any sign on your face with the words I am about to say. Sirius I miss your touch, I'm not sure if you thought it was a one time thing and I could be embarrassing myself right now but if you feel the same, if you didn’t want it to be a one time thing I wonder why I can see you next. I sit in my classes, arousal pooling in my panties because of you. Your making me feral Sirius, I need you inside of me soon, I cant please myself, I need you and your big cock to stretch out my tight pussy, its waiting for you Sirius.

Y/n :)

Sirius couldn't contain himself, he quickly grew hard in his trousers also trying not to show any signal as to what the letter had just read. Of course he wanted to see you again, he wanted his hands all over your body, his callous fingers rubbing against the red of your ass where he has just slapped.

Remus looked at him with confusion as Sirius was sitting there with sort of wide eyes wondering how he was suddenly wrapped up with an 18 year old. He was pinning over her, attached.

“Sirius, what did it say?” Remus leaned forwards in his chair, hand sewn together as well as his eyebrows.

Sirius snapped out of his stance on the command of Remus’ voice.

“It said that what we did was a mistake and that she is sorry,” Sirius lies straight through his teeth, pretending that the letter had bruised his ego.

The air was clear, and everyone could breath again.

Sirius was relieved that Remus had believed him and Remus was relieved because Sirius and yourself were no longer infatuated with each other, lifting a huge relief of his shoulder. 

But Remus didn't know the contents of Sirius next letter to you...

hogwarts

You were sitting at breakfast, tapping on the table. Your distractions had gotten better over the last couple days meaning that you'd been sleeping better meaning that your friends hadn't been on your back constantly.

“You alright Y/n?” Angelina sits next to you, swinging her legs dramatically over the bench, stretching her arm into the middle of the table to grab an apple.

“Yeah I'm okay thanks Ange,” She smiles at you. “How are you?” You ask, taking another bite of the toast that sat on your plate.

“Yeah yeah I'm all good, anyway I came here to tell you that Professor Lupin wants to see you before class,” Your eyes widen, had he read the letter between you and Sirius? You didn't think he would have, he wasn't the type to invade privacy.

Angelina noticed the colour drain from your face and a worried look creeps onto her face. “Whats wrong? What did you do? Are you in trouble?” She bombards you with questions to which you stand up and run out of the hall towards the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. You might as well pack your bags now, theres no way that he is going to let you off without punishment after he read the letter.

Your legs ran as fast as they could take you, dodging students and teachers, earning a phew ‘No running in corridors’.

You came to an immediate halt in front of the door you recognised so well and you knocked.

“Come in,” You heard from the other side of the door.

You take a deep breath, feel the cold untouched door handle underneath your shaking skin. You breath again, trying to steady your breaths and trying to hold back the tears that were ebbing on your waterline.

You push the door open to find your DADA Professor standing at the top of the stairs leading up to his office, you sniffle and bite your lip, hiding any emotion.

“Come into my office Y/n,” He turns around and strides into his office, leaving the door open behind him.

You begin to walk towards the stairs, having his emotionless words replay in your head, thinking out all the possibilities of how this interaction could go and how you could make it easier for yourself. You pace the floor feeling the cold air of the classroom consume you due to the lack of human warmth. You shiver and resume your journey now striding up the stairs.

Pushing the door open, you stride into his office the same way he did. You immediately saw a letter on the desk, you mentally cursed yourself, letting your Professor do all the talking.

“I see you got my message from Angelina?” He was slouched back in his chair, looking rather relaxed.

You nod, worried if you speak that your voice will break as you were on the verge of tears.

“Why so quiet? Is there something wrong?” His eyebrows furrowed as he asked. 

“No nothing, just not sleeping properly lately,” You lie, you figured you would just tell everyone the same thing so that if the subject came up everyones stories would match.

“Ah yes, Angelina told me,” You looked shocked. “Anyway,” He dismisses the subject. “I have something for you,” Remus turns your attention when he picks up the letter on the desk with his long, dainty fingers.

The letter was for you? You thought that was the letter you sent Sirius.

You take the letter that he was offering and examine it. There was no name on the front of it and it wasn't sealed at the back. You look up at your Professor and all he does is smile and nod, then your attention is back on the letter, you practically ripped it open, knowing that it was from Sirius.

Dear Y/n,

I assume you will have received this letter from Remus.

We cant send any more letters as I told Remus that your letter was about how you thought what we did was wrong and that it was a mistake so tell him that as well, thats what he knows. I am in instant need of you, I want to feel your body below me, writhing around underneath me. I need to taste you, all of you. I want to make your ass all red then kiss it all over. I want to make you cum over and over and over until you cant cum anymore, would you like that? I will find a way that we can reunite but you're going to have to wait pup, I'm sure you can do that for me.

Sirius *paw-print*

The colour drained from your face once again and your heart rate sped up drastically. Only Sirius words had this great of an effect on you. You had to hide any expression from Remus, you knew what he knew and you had to go along with it.

“Im sorry Y/n but I think it was for the best,” The Professor sat before you, shuffling papers ready for your first lesson with him.

“I agree Professor, thank you for delivering my letter,” You reply, trying to ignore the puddle in you underwear. You had to do something about it before class started, you could sit in his lesson feeling aroused the whole time!

“Your free to wait in here Y/n, class will start soon,” You decline your Professors offer and run to the toilet with the letter, needing to relieve some of this built up tension.

[j0ne-jjk]

Chasing that High

Fandom: BTS  Pairing: MinKook (Jimin and Jungkook) Rating: Mature

Warnings: M/M, PWP, established relationship, bottom Jimin, top Jungkook, very slight rough treatment (consentual), slight breath play, standing sex, anal fingering, anal sex, cumming untouched, it is safe sex though!, JK is sweet and soft afterward

Note: This was originally based on a piece of BTS fan art that a friend shared with me. She had found it on Pinterest, but was unable to find the original artist. After doing some digging, I discovered that it was not fan art, but actually an original piece by a Japanese mangaka and video game artist. The artist’s profile clearly stated that their art was not to be reposted or used in any way, even with proper credit. Of course I wanted to show respect to the original artist, so I did not include the piece.  Please also note: my friend had no idea of this originally, since the piece was found on Pinterest. 

Keep reading under the cut...

“K-Kookie… be-be careful!” Jimin stuttered out as his chest was pushed against the cold wall of the dark bathroom. His small hands scrabbled for purchase on the smooth tile as he offered a half-hearted protest at the rough treatment. “Jungkook-ah, the jacket. It’s borrowed,” Jimin whined, “what if the w-wall is d-dirty?” His black slacks and boxers had been hastily undone and pushed down just below the swell of his ass, belt hanging by his thigh. Jungkook gripped tightly on the smaller man’s hip with one hand, the other had three fingers slick with lube, knuckle-deep in Jimin’s tight heat. The maknae smirked, mouthing wetly at Jimin’s neck before asking, “D’you think you’re ready for me? I think you’re stretched enough.” He punctuated his question with one last jab at the sensitive spot deep inside Jimin. Jerking at the sudden jolt of pleasure, Jimin gasped, nodding furiously, “yes, yes please Kookie. Need you inside m-me.” The others were probably looking for them, but neither man cared. They were desperate to chase their post-concert high for as long as they could. Jimin loved this - he begged Jungkook to be rough with him after shows; to take him somewhere in the venue and manhandle him. As the younger man removed his fingers, Jimin whimpered at the empty feeling, canting his hips back slightly. Jungkook’s breath stuttered as he rolled the condom on and gave himself a few tugs with his lube-covered hand. One of Jungkook’s hands spread Jimin’s ass, exposing his most private area. Jimin felt the dull tip of Jungkook’s cock press against his entrance, shuddering in anticipation. “Okay Jimin-ssi, ready?” the younger man teased, voice strained. At Jimin’s noise of consent, Jungkook pressed inside, not stopping until the front of his pelvis was flush with Jimin’s plump ass. They were still for a mere moment, before Jimin wriggled, gasping out a desperate, “Kookie, move!” The younger man wasted no time, grabbing at small hips and moving his own at a deep, steady pace. Jungkook leaned forward, using his wide chest to press Jimin even closer to the wall, forcing the breath out of him, the heat from their bodies magnified by their matching stage outfits. His warm breath tickled Jimin’s ear, “so good for me, yeah? Always taking my big cock so well. You think I can make you cum without touching your pretty cock, Jimin-ssi?” Jimin’s hole clenched and he let out a high-pitched whine in response as the maknae increased his pace. Jungkook gripped Jimin’s hips even tighter, allowing him to lift the smaller man slightly and angle his hips upward. Jimin was forced onto his tiptoes and was about to protest when Jungkook slammed back in, this new angle allowing the tip of his cock to strike directly on the bundle of nerves deep inside. Jimin wailed, hands slapping at the tile wall, pink cock twitching in response to the pleasure. “There it is,” Jungkook hummed, licking along Jimin’s neck, “let go, baby. Let me make you cum.” All Jimin could do was whine in response, his abused prostate dominating his thoughts. Through the fog of arousal, he could hear the clink of his belt against the wall and the slap of Jungkook’s balls on his ass. His hole began to clench as a familiar heat pooled low in his abdomen, his orgasm nearing. Sensing Jimin’s high approaching, Jungkook pressed him even closer to the wall, making Jimin gasp for breath. The shock of having the air forced out of his chest coupled with a particularly hard jab at his prostate had Jimin cumming with a broken shout, white ropes of cum splattering on the wall and running onto the floor. Jungkook wasn’t far behind, cumming with a low growl. After cleaning up Jungkook made an attempt at putting their stage outfits back together. Jungkook pulled Jimin into a tight hug, eyes wide and voice soft, “you okay, jagiya? I wasn’t too hard on you? Wasn’t too rough or mean?” The maknae gently tousled Jimin’s sweaty hair before picking him up, bridal style. “No Jungkookie, you were perfect. Just like always,” Jimin giggled before yawning cutely, “you know this is how I unwind after concerts. Thank you baby.” The two smiled and shared a deep kiss before Jungkook set his hyung down as if he were made of porcelain. They left the bathroom and headed down the corridor to find the rest of the team, sated and content. 

[the-sunshine-dims]

Amnesia rewrite!

i remember how much i loved writing the amnesia series and once i realized i was coming up on my 100th fic i realized what fic would be better to my 100th then an amnesia rewrite!

ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | ch 6 | ch 7

original fic

words: 1,411

ao3

contents and warning: blood, blood loss, injury, angst, hurt/comfort, roman helps, amnesia, hurt janus, grieving, crying,

summary: Janus got hurt and cant remember anything up to a certain point, which means he doesn't remember the split of creativity, or their names getting revealed, and a lot else, and during Janus having amnesia there's a lot of healing, and not only from him.

or Janus somehow stumbled into the imagination, got amnesia, and now there's angst and hurt/comfort, maybe even fluff

____

Janus stumbled out of the foresty wilderness-clad imagination, not remembering much, and not remembering just how much he’d forgotten, not even remembering how he had ended up in imagination, he did remember a couple things, even if they were a couple of the simpler things, such as, he was Thomas’s “deceitful” trait, he was also Thomas’s “self preservation” though that was just a fancy word for Janus protected thomas.

and another thing he knew was that the blood splatter that had gotten in his hair and was soaking through his shirt was very not good.

But some things he didn’t know were possibly some of the most important things, such as the painful split of king creativity, and the painful memories of being locked away with the label of “darksides” and “snake tricking thomas into sinning”, and everyone telling thomas their names. 

But, currently it didn’t matter what he remembered, he had to clean himself up and figure out if all of the blood was his ..or someone else’s, or both, and he had to figure out if it was better if it was his or someone else’s.

He tried his best to take a deep breath, hoping it would help the painful headache he had go away, but it just came out shaky and it helped none, so with nothing else to do he just tried his best to get back to his room, after getting a quarter way to where he thought it would be he had to begin leaning on the wall, feeling faint, before trying his best to continue.

But when he reached the first open room he’s seen he didn’t recognize it, maybe morality just got bored and redecorated? He didn’t know.

Once he enters, for a minute all he wants is to stay there, it’s warm, and just bright enough to be the perfect place to take a nap, like Thomas’s grandma's living room, with the big windows facing the couch, just so comfortable of an atmosphere, he shakes his head at himself ignoring the immediate flare of pain it causes, he needs to get to his room, then he can wash up and take a nap, he just needs to wait to find his room.

He sighs about to try and leave and hope to not get more lost,

Then he saw them.

A side, a side he’s never seen before, sitting on one of the armchairs and staring at him like with a vigilante- almost annoyed gaze

They were a taller side, outfit almost like a prince, with a bright red sash, maybe they were a new side? Maybe something to do with inspiration? Or something else creative? That would explain the similarities to creativity, Regardless though even if they weren't something to do with creative stuff janus was sure creativity would like them, creativity liked everyone.

And while Janus was partially confused because he was having a kinda hard time processing he still was about to go make a move to greet the new side.

That was until the side snapped out “deceit.” Sounding annoyed. Making his blood go cold, and his eyes widened and everything in him filled with self preservation in a single moment because how did he know his trait this was a new side how did he know.

Suddenly the blood that’s made his already dark clothes darker and long since dried on his hair is overly noticeable now and he feels like he should flee as his gaze flicks across the entire room in an instant looking for possible exits.

He took a unnoticeable steadying breath before going “who- who are you?” He asks, almost hissing under his breath at just how shaky it was, he’s supposed to be strong to protect Thomas! Not shaky just because someone he didn’t know, knew something as simple as one of his traits.

The side seemed startled by the question, several unnamed emotions flitting across his face in a couple moments before it settled on base level confusion as Janus began looking around the room again, nervousness evolving slightly when he realized nothing was the same, the couch was moved along with the coffee table and the everything else he didn’t even think the framed photos were in the same place-

Then he saw a particular photo, it had morality, logic, anxiety (though he’s changed a lot), and this side.

Then he looked at the other photos and he noticed a particular lack of someone.

Creativity

and the more he looked there wasn’t any trace of him, no left out art supplies, no hand-crafted pillows, nothing.

He snapped his head back to this side and desperately asked “where’s creativity?” He really hoped that the sides were just pulling a mean and really badly timed prank.

This side is slowly destroying that hope when he looks absolutely startled by that and instead of- well anything, he just confusedly goes “..I’m creativity?” 

Janus’s hands begin shaking aggressively after he’s processed the information, and suddenly he felt really overwhelmed “no- no no that’s not possible! You- you’re not creativity! He’s tall and he- he always has this big goofy grin! He- and he has this cape he made himself though it’s pretty much just a blanket wrapped around his shoulders!-“ tears had been spilling from his eyes as he went on, beginning to hold his shaky form with his shaky arms, and beginning to retract into himself “and- and he has fake roses on hand at all time despite- despite him knowing they get caught in his shirt everytime- and- he's not gone! I was just here and he and logic were trying to build a puzzle! He-“ he hiccuped “he was just here..” he sobbed, not meeting this ‘creativity’’s eyes and just staring at the floor instead though he couldn't see anything beyond vague shapes.

There was a long uncomfortable silence as Janus tried to breathe before the person spoke “creativity.. was split into me and my brother.. don’t you remember?”

Janus looked up at him and just shook his head sorrowfully before taking a big breath and trying his best to speak though it just came out as a quiet “no..” so quiet Roman almost didn’t hear it.

Janus wanted to go home. 

He looked at the floor again, trying his hardest to avoid eye contact and not cry.. again.

That was until he felt a small tug on his shirt sleeve and the side was looking at him so concerned and he didn’t say anything but he backed away just a tiny bit and opened up his arms in a clear invitation, one which Janus immediately took up, catapulting himself into his arms and just.. sobbing.

Roman tried, if somewhat stiffly to comfort him, using his spare arm that wasn't wrapped around Janus to try and brush through Janus’s hair, that was what patton did when they were upset.

Or that was the plan, instead he felt a weird dry patch in Janus’s hair and when he looked closer it was dark red, he froze, knowing that the only real option for what it was was dried blood since he didn’t suppose Janus was the type to randomly dye his hair red and decide not too, a quarter way through, so he took a breath before beginning to speak “okay, umm, you're kinda bleeding, and I don’t think I would know how to care for whatever injury caused the bleeding properly so.. I think it would be best to go to Logan.”

Janus seemed half conscious because he just slowly blinked, trying to see if he somehow knew the name somehow, and after a minute Roman realized Janus didn't recognize the name so he explained “Logic, not long ago with the rest of us, shared his name with us, which is Logan,” he told him, and deciding it might be good to tell him more he just slowly went “you did too, you told us your name was Janus.”

Janus hummed, taking the information and processing it slowly, his fatigue and exhaustion finally affecting him, eventually he nodded to himself and with that Roman decided Janus wouldn’t be physically or emotionally fit to walk with him to Logan's room safely.  so he carefully and slowly picked Janus up, half expecting some fight but instead Janus just practically curled up against his chest, his head beginning to loll in in a single moment.

And then Roman was off to Logan's Room.

[tigerdrop]

u know u could put out the weirdest most fucked up shit and we would still love it. obviously don't share stuff if it makes u uncomfortable but for every single thing you find embarrassing there's something several times worse

i really hope ur ready to stand by these words b/c im about to tell you about.......showdog dogboy gordon. for five thousand fucking words

look. listen. hear me out. my dear kogo introduced me to an idea and it has not left my mind since: showdog......dogboy......gordon

like.........you know.......its about. dogboy. submitting while benrey dolls him up and makes him look nice. maybe hes been a lot......fuzzier since he got forcibly nintendogged. and maybe benrey cracks a joke about it, maybe the joke gets pulled out a little too far. b/c its the two of them, and thats what they do. its jokes. games. jokes being riffed upon and thinly-veiled dares being issued until gordon freeman finds himself standing awkwardly next to a grooming table in nothing but his underwear while benrey tells him to chill the fuck out. puts that collar on him. after all, he wants to look nice for his friend, right? they say a dog is mans best friend

this definitely would not be the first time a joke or a game went too far and they ended up fucking at the end of it, but this is......this is a whole level beyond. this is definitely, like. theres a Lot going on here. but neither of them are breaking character yet so

and. you know. if youre feeling really insane. like me. if youre feeling just fucking diseased. you can make benrey.......pretty big here. make gordon dogy-sized next to him. not like, tiny, but enough that gordon, ordinarily a Big Guy, feels......small. a little emasculated

and.....yknow. gordon could be collared and chained to the table. like a real dog. not a lot of slack on that thing. and maybe hed be.......muzzled, too. if hes the kind of dogboy that gets snippy at scissors

its really good also for.....benrey being fully clothed and gloved up while gordons almost entirely bare. i know dog groomers dont strictly have to wear gloves. but still. not that it was really going to stop me if he wouldnt actually have a reason to wear gloves. i would make him anyway b/c ive lost all dignity

ITS ABOUT. THE HORNY FUCKING GAME. like they could talk about it if, if they wanted, if they were normal about it, b/c in this scenario they have absolutely fucked it out before (b/c i cant imagine any other fucking way gordon freeman acquiesces to this unless hes Aware that theres gonna be dick touching involved), but they are not normal and they are not going to break kayfabe even if it kills them

and like......i think the muzzle thing is......good. its really really good. b/c benrey can get real fuckin mean and tell him that hes gonna have to be a good boy and keep his teeth to himself if he wants it off so that benrey can make him look less like shit

those new canines of his are awful pointy. is gordon sure he can handle it? can he get a grip on his dogy side for fucking long enough to let benrey take a straight razor to his face? of course he can, he thinks, b/c hes not a fucking dog, okay, hes still a guy, and hes here to prove it and just. behave. while benrey manhandles him and grooms him and brushes out his fur and files his fucking nails. hes not in thrall to his instincts whether they be animalistic or vulgar. and hes definitely not going to cave and ask benrey to touch his fucking dick while he does this

> i enjoy the thought of benrey posing gordon as he pleases but never directly touching him, lifting his leg to get under his upper thigh or stretching the skin of his belly taut as not to nick him. so concentrated on gordon but feigning ignorance to his building arousal, ignoring it

> that art jordan did where gordon is on the table and has the collar on. his chest is shaved into the shape of a heart and that made me so DFUCKING CRAZY I STARTED BARKING AND SNARLING AKLSJAKDJFS

YEAH.....ITS......its shaved into a heart on purpose. and i left that in the first version i posted but nobody said anything about it so i just whistled and walked away

> LIKE. the emasculation of it....the fucking. possesiveness. theres also an undercurrent of like tenderness to it that made me fucking go apeshit

its such a fucking power move too. like. thats not gonna grow out for awhile. every time gordon freeman looks in the mirror for the next few weeks hes gonna be reminded of how fuckin debased he was

just..............consider........the trust hed have to put in benrey for it........benrey holding gordons jaw very firmly in his hand and showing him the straight razor and being like "yo.......uhh......this things sharp. dont wanna make a mess......better, better sit real fuckin still. sit boy. dont move." and sitting rigidly after benrey says something like that while tilting his jaw up to look directly athim is one of the hardest things gordons done in his life. hes sweating and hes making himself dizzy by trying not to breathe too much

he can just......he can see exactly where gordons jugular is fluttering madly under the razor and where gordons adams apple bobs as benrey skims stubble off his throat and rest assured that benrey is getting off on this just as much as gordon is

big......big hands on his face.....turning him every which way.......running his thumb over the clean line of his jaw to feel the results..........i think its just, its a cool scenario. to think about. but instead of this being just a normal "gordon freeman gets shaved" scenario, hes half naked and chained to a table and also has dog ears for some fucking reason

but also this is just like......his face. its the "trimming him everywhere" thats the really fun part

> like...the moving down his body....touching almost clinically by moving part of him around to get everything...yknow....

casual.....clinical.......nervewracking to be on the receiving end of

> thinking about him having to restrain his horny is fun, but it’s especially fun when you think about how he’d spend hours like that, hard and dripping, since friend benrey wants to be so through

> YES CLINICAL, ALMOST INDIFFERENT

fucking. hours. of just laying there anxiously running his mouth and laughing and gasping when benrey moves him like its nothing or touches him somewhere that makes him jump......like.......benrey with something whirring as loudly as those clippers in his hand doesnt exactly inspire confidence......but hes weirdly good at what hes doing and hes got a broad palm flat on gordons stomach to hold him in place/get him to chill out......but it just makes gordon sweat and flush and hes trying so hard to stay still b/c benrey keeps demeaning him when he squirms too much......like, what, is he scared? thinks benreys gonna cut his other arm off with a pair of hair clippers? get real. calm down maybe.

but thats not really the reason why hes acting weirdly ticklish about the whole procedure. (its because of the Scenario, man. gordons trying so hard to be normal in the face of the awareness that this is one of the most insane things hes ever gotten hard for, but we all know how strung out this dude gets at even relatively normal shit. so much so that benrey will just stare at him blankly and ask "uhhh, stop moving please? thank you?" b/c gordons so handsy ordinarily and he keeps trying to move his hands when he talks)

> listen. what if he....absentmindedly like...pet. him. on the stomach. just doing the motion cause it soothes normal dogs so when he feels gordon squirming he strokes heavily down. repetitive...but hes not even focusing on that, hes like intent on getting the part hes trimming just right gordon freezes up and stops breathing for a second to flush all over. benrey’s hand is so hot on his stomach, and he can only focus on how good it feels,

> squirmy because he feels like he’s gonna die if his dick doesn’t get touched and all his instincts are screaming to disobey and hump benrey into the ground (not like he physically can with the restraints but)

eventually benreys gonna have to get down to brass tacks and shave and trim all of him

> and like the whole time. the whole goddamn time gordons just in his boxers absolutely throbbing with it and like. benrey's hand moves to his stomach and like the waistband of  his boxers. yeah. all of him.

can you imagine. gordon freeman desperately trying not to be horny while his best friend kneels between his legs and hooks those fingers in his waistband and starts peeling them off and completely fucking failing at it but hes still gotta try, right. whether hes cis or trans this idiot is so horny that his underwear is just. ruined

> i still cant stopr thinking abt. in the pictures you drew jordan. the way benrey is. delicately touching gordons dick/pussy to get a better angle for shaving

Y. YEAH. ITS POTENT. IMO. gordon having to pretend like hes not fucking horny in the slightest while benrey just kind of clinically moves his dick around and laughs at him when it twitches......ITS A LOT.

> the amount of willpower gordon is exercising not to fuck up into benrey’s palm when he’s loosely holding his dick to shave all the hair around it is honestly impressive

hes trying so fucking hard. hes shaking. look at him. tail thumping weakly against the table

just......like......i was thinkin about benrey getting gordon stripped bare while he stammers and rambles because he is so very fucking turned on right now and hes so embarrassed by this that he just stares firmly at the ceiling and humiliates himself ranting about how its a totally normal response and plenty of guys get erections during prostate exams and benrey has no idea what the fuck hes talking about

> this was th. part. ...benrey ignoring his boner and his rambling like "yeah alright. stay still for this part though for real" and gets to work. gordon absolutely mortified but hes breathing real shallow cause he doest want to get nicked here of all places so. and benrey placing a hand on his thigh to push them open further so that he can get a better angle and gordon's leg shakes. its quiet until benrey says to himself "'youre bein still. 's good." and gordon's dick visibly twitches at that and he shuts his eyes quickly and turns his face away. also i was still thinkin,,,,bout how the little praise straight up goes to gordon's head and his tail might also thump a lil faster on the table.

> would benrey notice? probably. maybe not say anything at first but just let a real evil smirk spread on his face, laughing a little. and then say lowly when hes focused on his work, "really like that huh. lil dogboy. you like being good?" and gordon lets out a harsh breath, stomach jumping. doesnt respond but his tail moves even faster. benrey's wrist brushes the head of his dick and he lets out a small sound, which turns strangled then he actually takes his hand and presses his dick to the side so he can get right below his stomach. its detached, hes just holding it pressed to the crease of his hip, but gordon's dick throbs under his palm and dribbles precome against the gloved fingers

> Okay, so, part of the grooming process is, of course, bathing the dog. And luckily, Benrey has a wonderful tool to help him with this. A hand-held shower hose with a lovely little shower head with very nice settings to help our little showdog get... clean.

> Imagine, if you will: Gordon, on all fours and chained up to keep him upright as Benrey slowly, methodically, wets him down. Lathers him up. Works his hands all over his body, from tail tip to the top of his head. Massaging into his belly. Rubbing inside his thighs. Cleaning every part of him. Every part.

> And the shower head occasionally dips down, pulsing, right to a sweet spot between Gordon’s legs, the closest thing he’s got to attention the entire time they’ve been playing this game. He’s so close, so GODDAMN close to getting what he wants, but every time Benrey realizes he’s getting somewhere... ... He moves it. To spray his back. His head. His chest. Anywhere but where Gordon wants it.

> Gordon is shaking. His legs are trembling, the table is wet and slick. He’s having such a hard time staying up on all fours, he’s panting and begging and losing his footing and EVERY TIME he loses his footing, well, the collar and chain choke him and force him right back up. And Benrey is just watching. Grinning.

> Waits for him to get his composure.

> And does it again.

just......like.......jesus. gordon would be. shaking. his whole body. panting like a dog. trying so hard to stay still. but he keeps trying to spread his legs wider when benrey reaches his thighs and he keeps slipping and accidentally choking himself and hes nearly at the breaking point trying to keep himself together but benrey runs a big, warm hand along his side and makes a passing comment on what a good boy hes being and gordon almost fucking yells from how overwhelmed he gets

i want gordon freeman fucking obliterated. i want him to suffer first from benrey jerking him around and then being made to jerk himself around, trying and failing to keep his shit together.....and when benrey tells him sumn like, hey no, dont lay down........even if your arms and legs are shakin, you gotta stay up bro.......its so fuckin demeaning and gordon just spits out "im trying!" and benrey buries his free hand in gordons hair like hes gonna tug in retaliation, but instead he just scratches gordons scalp in a way that feels really fucking good and asks "you gonna bite? huh? gonna bite me? when im treatin you so nice......jeez, man" and that takes him back from the brink a little

hes just always keeping gordon on his toes. switching settings. dragging it out and making gordon shake from head to toe, sometimes putting on one of those real powerful pulsing jets to overstimulate him and make gordon yelp and just work him up into a trembling mess struggling to stay upright. snarling in ugly frustration when benrey yanks the showerhead away just as gordons starting to Get There. it feels like it must have been hours that hes been being bathed like this and teased from occasional glancing sprays with the waterhead to direct stimulation while benrey chuckles at him and just blandly comments "youre shaking." and gordon stammers out hotly "of course im fucking shaking, you keep fucking with me and i just wanna--" and benrey takes him by the chin and makes gordon look up at him and says, laughing at him under his breath, "dogs dont talk, bro"

ike.......at this point u might think "surely thats enough. throw the guy a bone." and that maybe, now, gordon freeman will get his dick touched like he deserves. you owuld be wrong. benreys not done here. gordons gotta come down from that table, get toweled off. and when benrey unclips that leash from the table, gordon just fucking collapses. his arms and legs cant really hold him up right now......hes being strung out like a violin, drawn to maximum tautness before being let go all at once just before he snaps.

and this is where benrey plays a little nice.......dries him off and blowdries him a little, brushing out his hair and his tail. hes committed to the bit, okay? he said he was gonna make his best bro look nice, so hes gonna make gordon look nice. this whole time hes letting gordon come back down.....and its......its kind of frustrating, if benreys just gonna decide to leave him like this and drag him outta here  and call that the end of the game, but its not the worst thing in the world right now. for the first time in hours hes not being asked to do something. he doesnt even really have to move his own arms and legs.

but No. hes still not done. theres something theyre forgetting........gotta clip your nails, bro. its the last thing on benreys docket, and gordons embarrassed for a different (but taxonomically similar) reason. all the personal attention and the bizarre intimacy of it makes gordons mouth start running, just to get his mind off it. pretend to be normal! surely thats gonna work when the guy who nearly gave him a nervous breakdown from being edged and toyed with beyond belief is now at his feet, filing nails and running curious thumbs over the tendons and muscles. benreys almost more lost in it than gordon is at this specific point. (hes been doing nothing but jerking gordon around and its hard work. he deserves this.)

gordons been good. really fuckin good. didnt even nip his fingers. benreys best friend deserves a treat.

> look. hes been so fucking good the whole time. not moving and not touching himself, not breaking the tension they have with each other, staying so still. i think he deserves something nice. but like gordon doesnt expect it, he expects to just be jerked around and let go. benrey tells him to stay on the table and he complains about it like "im done now. you. you said we were done" but benrey comes back with a fresh pair of gloves and gordon tenses until benrey places a hand on his chest and tells him to calm down. he was good. rubs at his chest and stomach, slowly pushing him down onto the table while gordon squeaks when benrey parts his legs.  hes mostly soft now but he hears benrey doing something and then rubbing a slick finger around his hole and he lets out a little "oh god. oh god. " that turns into a moan when he presses in.

> gordon's calmed down a bit but its goddamn embarrassing how quickly he gets wet again, dick throbbing a little. and i think. hm. i  think it would be very fun to do overstimulation in this way now too since hes been edged so much that hes actually fucking desperate to come

> i think he should be be fingered until he howls and comes like 3-4 times. he's finally finally getting what he wants i dont know if he would know what to do. hes probably embrassed as all fuck from the way he acted that whole time, but when he starts getting fingered all that stuff just blanks from his mind and its so, so hard for him to not just chase that feeling and whore himself out. the opportunities for whoredon dialogue when hes that desperate are like  saying shit hes cant even think about like "god - please f- fuck." and benrey's only got one finger in him but hes so wet already that benrey tries a second and it slips in easily. he crooks his fingers and gordon fucking keens, thighs shaking.

the fuckin. the agony in his voice when hes hoarsely begging benrey "do not stop do not fucking stop i cant take it" and just. slamming his fist into the table and being so fucking loud, oh my god, this guy is loud

> the thought of how loud he would be crazed me im just. just. him laying on the fucking table, eyes shut tight and moaning high and loud while he pulls tightly on his own hair, clenching hard around benrey's fingers

i think it would just be cool if. uhh. the thing that finally breaks gordon. gets him to just Let Go. is benrey catching him trying to choke back his words and his sounds and just laughs at him, like, "this is the easy part man. you wanna be a good dog? better, uhh.....better beg. cmon, boy. beg." and gordons hips jerk and the subsequent praise he gets when he actually does it makes him just.......snap.......Bye

> and what if.......benrey doesnt remove them as gordon comes down from that. he just waits a few seconds while gordons still panting and then scissors them and wrings a strangled sound out of gordon, whos hips move down again. and the heat starts building again in his gut and he cant even get out full sentences anymore, just bits and pieces while he fucks onto benrey's fingers. m. maybe benrey's growling out shit like "thats it, cmon. been good for me all fuckin day. you want more?" and gordon nods his head without even looking but he hears a thump and sees benrey kneeling between his thighs and he. licks up from where his fingers are to his clit and he just seals his mouth on it and sucks and that makes gordon come a second time, thighs clamping shut around benrey's ears.

i just......i lvoe......overstim.......and i think gordon freeman should have his pussy eaten until he cannot fucking take it anymore

maybe......even.......maybe after gordon comes a second time. benrey doesnt stop sucking and licking. at first it seems like benreys just working him thru the orgasm, but then he just keeps going. and gordons sensitive, hes too fucking sensitive, each time benreys tongue swipes over him he jerks and tries to close his legs. frantically gasping that he did it, okay, he got gordon off, voice getting high and broken, but benrey just pulls back and looks at him flatly and then very deliberately. spreads his legs wider in one swift movement. and pins them with his big fucking hands. and just looks him in the eye and says "i know, dude" and puts his mouth right back on gordon anyway. and gordons legs twitch like fucking mad but benreys so strong and he cant move and hes slamming his fist on the table again from how overwhelming it is, tears prickling in the corner of his eyes, howling into the open air how benreys killing him, hes fuckin killing him, why does he like jerking gordon around so much........and benrey glances up and breaks the seal of his mouth around gordons dick and mutters something about how he must not be doin his job if gordons still talking

i want him to howl wordlessly with frustration and grab benreys hair and yank him closer as gordon rounds the corner from "the agony of getting sucked off when hes hyper-sensitive" to "the agony of chasing yet another orgasm". i want this dude to be tonguefucked until he wails!!! I Want Him Ruined. meat: massacred. pussy: destroyed. i think it would be cool if gordon freeman was wailing at him for more, dont stop, benrey, until benreys got two big fingers back in him and is squeezing in a third alongside them and hes so fucking tight from having just come twice in a row, but the groan gordon lets out when its finally inside him is so guttural and low it makes benrey blink and shiver

and i think that for the grand finale benrey should smash that dogboy pussy. thanks for coming to my TED talk

hes been going thru this shit for hours. taking his time to really screw gordon freeman up good. and its been so fuckin worth it just to hear all the fun new sounds gordon made (cuz of him, he reminds himself). benreys been awkwardly adjusting his dick in his pants for way too fucking long, and gordons been watching him do it. staring at it. saliva collecting at the corner of his mouth. he was achingly hard the whole time he was giving gordon a glorified pedicure. and he didnt even ask to shift forward from where he was kneeling to let the arch of gordons foot press against his dick. its been just as hard for benrey to keep control and stick to the rules of the game as it has been gordon, and this dude oughta get to crush mad pussy okay

> the thought of this is kinda making me insane actually so. im just. h. im just thinking about how it would go down like. augh. i think that gordon would be shaking from his third consecutive orgasm but like. he can keep going. and he finally gets a moment to breathe and look at benrey whos just a mess. hair messed up where gordon gripped it, red faced, mouth dripping with his own drool and gordon's slick and hes remembers like. this guys so fucked up over this, god. and hed been thinking about his dick the whole time, even though he thought he wasnt gonna get anything out of it for a while. hes been wanting it. and so like like he doesnt want to play any more games. hes been good he deserves this.

> benrey's still got three fingers in him so he kind of just pushes him back and breaths out "fuck me". benrey's actually absolutely dazed from everythin and has to process it like "huh. wh" but gordons like "just fucking do it, cmon. im not gonna say it again" and benrey finally actually registers it like. "y-yeah. okay." and he barely has any time to think before gordon's hauling him up onto the table. starts fumbling to get his pants and shirt off and gordons practically tearing at his clothes which doesnt fucking help. letting out little growls maybe like "fucking. jerking me around this whole time fuck you. can see how much you wanted it" and they finally manage to get them off and gordon pulls him on top and ruts against him. its finally now clicking for benrey that fuck. this is actually happening and he pushes into him with a low sound and gordon's thighs and tail go still and taut until he bottoms out.  gordon's fucking panting and clenches down on him and they both let out a little sound and benrey starts fucking into him slow. but cmon. this dudes been pent up the whole goddamn time. its barely any time before hes gripping gordon's hips and fucking up into him fast and hard, hips slapping against gordon's at a desperate pace. he probably tries to make it last but he cant, hes been edging himself too long. im going to fucking die see ya everybody

thinking about just how fuckin bad benreys legs would shake from the effort of pushin in reaaalll slow b/c gordons so fucking tight after having gotten off 3 times in a row.......trembling from the effort of trying to hold himself back......and gordons nails digging into the back of his neck and dragging down his back to leave long red furrows behind....... gordons eyes screwed tightly shut while the only thought on repeat in his head is "oh my god hes big hes so fucking big" and he can barely fuckin speak

> like yeah he had three fingers in him but this is so goddamn much. thinking about...gordon's hands clawing into back involuntarily from the stretch, letting out little cut off pants while his legs shake a little from it. i just. like the thought of his tail pointing out stiffly and trembling too. the absolutely wrecked sound he would let out when he bottomed out, all of that tension kind of leaving him in a drawn out deep moan. benrey shifts just a little to get a better grip on gordon's thighs and it causes him to yelp a little cause its so fucking much just from that movement.

> benrey's trying not to move but his hips are twitching from holding himself back and gordons letting out little. sounds that are making him insane. he pulls out just a little and that makes gordon let out a whine. and when he pushes back in gordon lets out breathless "fuck!" like its been punched out of him. even going this slowly is making him fucking shake like a leaf. hes squeezing his eyes shut tight heaving deep breaths, chest rising and falling fast. hes so full be can barely think. and benrey's just fucking stupid with cumbrain and hes saying all kinds of filthy shit like "h - fucking - so fucking good for me. so good. nnh. best. best friend -" and that makes gordon let out a whine. the praise has been getting to him the whole time and just. again with the loaded phrase of best friend. like the possesiveness of that. that combined with the near-overstimulation of getting filled makes him actually kind of lose it. his thighs clamp around benreys hips and his toes curl and pulls benrey's hips forward to make him thrust into him, so he stop going slow. bye. goodbye

[velociwrangler]

server promptfest: joey/kate

SO I’M BACK ON MY MEDS AND TRYING TO CRAWL BACK ONTO THE WRITING WAGON

I did a little prompt fest in the Dead by Baelight server! I don’t think they’re really good enough to throw up on AO3 but I am  fond enough of them to share. please be prepared for their short and  rough form, as it was an exercise in low-pressure writing :)

dead by daylight, kate/m!killer, anonymity & lockers, for @obscurefrost​

this one was heeeavily inspired by @crit-afterdark​‘s gorgeous Joey art here. most of the promptfest fics were around 500 words, and this one was more like 1600 LOL. please go and gaze upon her work

Some people just don't learn. That's one of the things that keeps Kate sane in this place. That no matter what they suffer, no matter how often it turns foul, there will be people lunging for the rescue, fighting for each other. She loves them for it, these strangers. What else can you do?

The thunder of the heartbeat in her ears just won't die. The world is pulsing and red around her and Kate shoves her elbow into the splintery surface of the door, legs shaking, and closes her eyes. She's fighting to keep herself upright. Running out of time, she thinks. Running out of time, running - just leave damnit - But it stays and it stays and she's afraid of the creak of the hinges, grimacing tautly against the pain. Just a little longer, she tells herself, but it's not up to her. The heartbeat dies, abruptly. Kate grabs for the door, pushes her shoulder against it. If she can mend, if she can press her wounds together the strange fevered sickness of death's door that Legion's masked members inflict will - Too late, too little time. Her legs fold under her and she crashes to the floor, teeth grating together. The air of the basement is thick and torpid, and she feels every inch of her bruised body. If she starts to crawl up the stairs, will she find a silhouette waiting, returning to find her? She tries to swallow her cries of pain, muffling them with bitten lips, cramming the back of her fingers against her hands. No one is coming for her. She can sense them, far corners of the trial grounds, hiding or bent to their tasks. Tonight's trial had not been a forgiving one. The heartbeat suddenly blooms again and she stiffens. She doesn't want to bleed out, but that logical thought doesn't keep the surge of adrenaline and terror from happening, doesn't prevent her heart from thumping like a rabbit's against her ribs. Come on, she tells herself, trying to summon the aggressively cheerful voice she'd summon to drag herself back out on the road, to promise one more hour before a motel, let's just fucking get this over with and have a little peace and quiet, folks. And then she sees a silhouette, the soft tread of a boot. A light build, but bigger than Nea or Ace. Her vision is swimming and uncertain. "What are you doing?" she slurs, feeling a surge of affection and impatience at once. "Run. You have to run." His head cocks to one side and he comes closer. Cautious, as if his ear is perked for a killer's footstep above. "At least hide," she says. Her voice sounds far away to her own ears, sleepy and scolding. "Don't be a martyr." Closer he comes, weaving around the edge of the wall and crouching down beside her. Kate still has her medkit clutched in her hand, more from a reflexive unthinking stiffness of her fingers than from any real strength of grip. She sighs, half-laughing. "Okay, sugar," she breathes. "If you want to play hero, give me a shot?" Some people just don't learn. That's one of the things that keeps Kate sane in this place. That no matter what they suffer, no matter how often it turns foul, there will be people lunging for the rescue, fighting for each other. She loves them for it, these strangers. What else can you do? Her mind snaps back to the present. He reaches down and methodically works her fingers free of the handle. She slurs, "oh, sorry," and he pauses, then finishes. Her hand drops to the floor, fingers curling. A split second hesitation. The heartbeat is still loud and insistent in their ears. The killer must be patrolling close, determined to find her. Her unknown companion pops the medkit open and looks over its contents. "Syringe," she says dreamily, "I'll be right as rain...I dreamed of it and it gave me something nice this time, right? Instead of just air freshener." She hopes her voice is quieter than it sounds in her own ears. She seems to have lost the knack of whispering. He finds it, lifts it up, and then brushes her hair back. She sighs, feeling gloved fingers brush her throat, The briefest sting in the curve of her bared shoulder. "Now you run," she mumbles. "Or he'll find you." The man stays crouched, easy and relaxed on his haunches, waiting for her. She wishes she could see his face; she's met survivors just about this bold before, devil may care after living too long in this place, but she can't place him. "At least hide," she says. Strange moments like these in trials are odd spots of macabre fascination, always. When the urgency gives way to light-hearted fatalism, when all you have are each other. "Get in the locker." She shivers on the ground, feeling a prickling wave travel from head to toe. Whatever is in the syringe - no matter what material it mimics, no matter what shape the Fog gives it to be crudely recognizable - it's as natural and recognizable as the Fog itself. But as long as it does its job, she'll take it. "Get in the...." She reaches out and tries to grasp his pant leg. Her fingernails scrape and slip off. "Sugar," she says again, that strange giddy mix of endearment and annoyance bubbling in her veins, "stop being a dumbass." When he moves, she slumps against the ground in relief and closes her eyes. But then she feels his hands on her again, and he picks her up off the ground, cradling her against his chest. She murmurs something incoherent, confused, and then hears the locker door open: his grip shifts on her, keeping her pinned to his chest by the waist as he walks them inside. The door closes behind them. She slumps against his chest, obliging, and they are squeezed together from shoulder to hip. His legs fit between hers, the coarse fabric of his pants brushing her inner thighs, and he keeps her on her feet with the pressure of his body alone. Which is. A problem. Just until the syringe finishes, she thinks. Just until - But the syringe working moves over her in a prickling wave. Her body feels hot and tender. Whatever it's doing to her, whatever strange machinations it performs inside her body, it makes her shiver and flood with sensation, nerves on overdrive. The warm weight of his body against hers is secure, persistent. His pelvis presses the crease of her shorts against her and she shivers. A little sound escapes her, involuntary and high-pitched, and he lifts on gloved fingers. It grazes both of their mouths, they're so close, when he presses it to his lips and whispers, "shhhh." The first time he's spoken, she realizes, but it doesn't give her many clues. Still no clue as to who he is. Is he a new survivor, or will she be real embarrassed when they stagger out of the basement together? "Sorry," she tries to whisper back. It probably comes out too loud. Her face is flushed, and the cool damp air of the basement is banished by their bodies together in such a close space. His breath, soft and steady, grazes her mouth. "Sorry," she repeats, "I'm..." "Hn?" he says. Has he never used the syringe before? She tries to hold still and not rock against him, tries not to rut pleadingly against the line of his body. Her fingers curl into the loose sweatshirt around his frame and a vivid image flashes through her mind: of pushing her fingers under it, smoothing her hand across his lower stomach and dipping her fingers under the hem. It's an absurd thought, especially because the heartbeat hasn't eased. Has the killer really fixated on this one down, or is he chasing someone else? She tries to remember if a generator has gone off while she's been bleeding out. "Feels like - " she gasps, and then he presses against her, rocks his hips slowly and deliberately inward, and she realizes she's been squirming without meaning to, and her fingers in his sweatshirt having been giving weak little tugs. She moans and tries to cover her mouth, but it's hard to maneuver her hand up. He kisses her. Presses his mouth to hers to silence her and she feels a rasp of fabric. From far, far away, distant alarm bells begin to sound in the back of her head. But she's still woozy, and the effects of the syringe haven't worn off yet. If anything they've gotten worse, because neither of them are helping her calm down. He presses even closer, which she didn't think was possible, and one gloved hand rucks up her shirt and settles on her waist, flexing against her skin. "He'll find us," she protests muzzily, and he gives a huff of laughter against her lips. She's still holding onto his sweatshirt anyway, tugging and guiding his body against hers desperately. He's settled into a slow, hard rhythm, grinding against her through both of their clothes. If she could cant her hips, wrap her legs around his waist, guide him where she really wants it - she'd probably have come already. But instead it's pressure, flares of just right there yes god and then rocking away, a tease that disintegrates the last fragments of her reservations. She sinks her teeth into her lower lip and shoves both hands up under his shirt, moulding them against the lines of his back, feeling his muscles move with the rhythm of his hips even in this confined space that cramps their bodies together. "Please," she whimpers, "oh, fuck - " He lowers his head and puts his mouth on the wound that downed her, the red slash that gouges down over her shoulder and upper chest, just as the syringe kicks in and it closes. The bright, violent burst of pain as his tongue strokes over it crashes her headfirst into orgasm, even as, in this last moment, the alarm bells in the back of her head go klaxon-loud and she realizes -

[flipper-kisses]

Higher Education

Rami x OC Veronica, Charlie Hunnam 

Word Count: 1446 

Tag list- none yet 

Warnings: swearing, mentions of parental death, car accident, college.    

Chapter 1 - Move In Day       

          The August sun was shining brightly when I pulled into the parking lot next to my brand new home- the dorms of Evansville University. My three hour drive had left my legs cramped and my stomach empty. I had zero desire to unload all of the stuff in my car, so I joined the line of students waiting to check and get their dorm room keys.  

           "Heads up!" I turned quickly toward the sound of shouting and saw a football hurtling towards my face. Instinctively I reached up and caught it, then looked around for the horrible quarterback. A tall guy with long blond hair jogged over to me, hand outstretched.

         "Sorry about that," he said with a smile, and a hint of an accent I couldn't quite place. "Great catch."          I handed the ball over. "I've got two football obsessed little brothers."         The guy looked me up and down. I was wearing navy blue shorts and a gray Nirvana T-shirt with my white and navy Adidas sneakers.         "I'm Charlie," he said and stuck out his hand.         "Veronica," I shook it. "Your boys want the ball back, I think." I nodded toward the group of guys he'd been playing with on the sun drenched lawn.         "Right. See you around then, Veronica." Charlie winked and jogged back to his friends. I watched for a second, one in particular catching my eye. Totally my type with dark, spiky hair, dressed in a black short sleeved shirt and gray shorts. I raised an eyebrow and turned back to the check in table.

        "Hi!" A bubbly brunette greeted me. She wore a name tag that identified her as the Resident Assistant. "Name?"         "Veronica Mason."         "Oh, hi Veronica! I'm Lauren, your roommate!" She stood up and gave me a high five. "Here's your key and we are room 323 on the third floor. I'll be around after all this check in stuff dies down then we can grab dinner later?"          "Sure, see you in a bit!" I pocketed my key and heaved a sigh, thinking about all the stuff in my car I needed to bring up. To the third freaking floor. No elevator in the building. I strode past the guys playing football, and all the freshmen with their parents unloading their things. I was transferring in as a junior, which made me very nervous. Everyone had already had two years to establish friendships with everyone on campus. I felt very new and very alone. I didn't have my parents with me, in fact, I didn't have any parents at all. They passed away in a car accident when I was 14 and I'd lived with my grandma ever since.          My thoughts continued to race as I opened my trunk and took out one of my totes. I started lugging it across the quad, sweating in the midwestern heat. I dropped the heavy tote under a tree and sat on it, catching my breath.          "Fuckin a," I muttered to myself. "This is going to be impossible."          "Hey," a shadow blocked the sunlight and I looked up at the owner of the deepest voice I'd ever heard. "Do you need some help with that?"          It was the cute guy playing football with...what was his name again? Chris? The one with the spiky hair and black shirt. Now with him so close up I could see his eyes were an interesting shade of greenish blue and they stood out against his tanned face.         "Yes, please," I replied gratefully and stood up. He was only a few inches taller than me, and absolutely gorgeous. He hefted the tote into his arms.         "Where am I taking this?" Mr. Handsome asked.         "Third floor of that dorm, 323 is the room number."         "Okay," he said and started walking towards the dorms. I expected him to drop the tote where we stood when he heard he had to go up three flights of stairs, but he didn't. I followed him, and we carried it up the stairs together. When we reached my room, I squeezed by him to unlock the door.         "You can put the tote in front of that bed, I guess. Thank you so much for your help. I appreciate you!" I said with a smile.        "That cant be all you have."        "No, I have much more in my car. But this was the heaviest. I can handle it."        "Let me help you. It will go much faster," Mr. Handsome kindly offered.        "Well...okay. I feel bad though. You don't have to do this. Shouldn't you be moving your own things in?"         "I'm a senior. I moved in yesterday. Plus, I threw the ball that almost nailed you in the face. So I figured I owed you one."        I laughed. "You have a shitty arm!"       "Good thing I'm a Fine Arts major," he replied dryly. I grinned and stuck my hand out.       "I'm Veronica."       "I'm Rami. I'm so sorry I almost knocked you out with my shitty arm."        "No worries. I guess we should get the rest of my stuff?"        "Let's do this," Rami replied and headed out to the stairs. —        Several hours later, I was unpacked, settled in and sitting on my bed, laptop open and reviewing my class schedule. A soft knock on my door snapped me back to reality. I climbed off my raised bed and opened the door to find Rami standing against the wall.          "Hey you," I said with a smile. "What's up?"          "Just wanted to see how you were doing. You had a crap ton of stuff to move in."           I laughed. "Yeah, I'm pretty much all settled. Want to come in?" I stepped aside to allow him in.           "Looks good in here," Rami looked around. "You work fast. My room is still a shithole!"           I had strung up twinkle lights on the wall high above my side of the room. Posters of my favorite bands crossed my wall and I set framed photos of me and my parents, me and my brothers and me and my grandma. Rami slowly walked around my side of the room, taking in everything with his intense eyes.           "Is this your family?" He asked, gently touching one of my frames. "How come they weren't here to help you move in?"          I wasn't one to share my sob story the first time I meet someone, but he had to ask.         "Well, my brothers are still in high school. They're sophomores."         "Twins?"          "Yup. And my parents- they died when I was 14." I looked away. I was in the accident as well, I'd survived. They didn't. As much as I knew it wasn't my fault, I lived with guilt every day. Rami touched my elbow.          "I'm so sorry for prying. I didn't know."          "It's ok. I just don't talk about it much."           "I have a twin brother, and an older sister. Are these guys complete hell-raisers like my brother and I were?" Rami swiftly changed the subject. I smiled, thinking of those two idiots at home, missing them and their incessant teasing. I also did not miss the fact that there were two guys out there that looked like Rami. It seemed a bit unfair to the rest of the men in the world.             "They like to switch on people for sure, but they're actually really good guys. My grandma did an incredible job with us."             "This her?" He pointed at my favorite picture I had of her. It was from the early 1940s and she was about 19 years old. She had on an adorable knee length dress, cinched at the waist in the style of those days and sassy heels.            I nodded, already missing her terribly. But she was the one who understood my need to leave and be on my own. She'd encouraged me to come to a school 3 hours away, because she knew how desperate I was so start my own life.            "She's beautiful. You look just like her."            I blushed at the compliment and Rami looked at me with a lopsided shy smile. My stomach decided that was the opportune time to let everyone know it was dinner time. Rami laughed and I covered my stomach.             "I was going to ask if you wanted to get dinner with me and my roommate tonight, but If you're not hungry," he teased.           "I was supposed to eat with my roommate, but she got called into an RA meeting. I was going to head down there alone," I shrugged.            "There's no reason for you to be alone on your first night here. Come with us. I promise no flying sports equipment will be involved."

[yaboyspodcastpalace]

no problem, anon! It’s not that I hate them or anything, much less for,  Big Reasons or something. I’ll put it under the cut bc it got kinda long... sorry about that u_u

back when I first listened tma (months before s4 started airing) I thought they were “okay” in the sense that martin’s crush was cute and interesting to see, but personally i think jon had much more chemistry with… well, anyone else, no offense, and that martin’s crush was completely unrequited

when s4 kicked in it had jon worrying over him and trying to talk and even gouge his eyes out with him and it was treated like he reciprocitated his feelings? which? I had trouble believing? It Could be read like that but for me it made much more sense that jon was feeling increasingy Pretty Desperate and Very Guilty for many things (struggling w/ his humanity & monsterhood, basira & melanie being stuck in the archives and also being angry at him, the death of people most importantly his former Friends) and martin was 1. the only remaining member from the original assistant crew and 2. falling into the lonely, its no wonder he was fucking worried about him and wanted him to be safe!! Jon absolutely cares abt martin, but still for me it still was hard to believe that he had a crush!

even if i were to believe that by the end of that season he had romantic feelings towards him (which, as you probably had picked from this ranting, i do not), i’d still think about it as “he’s desperate for something that grounds him and he cares lots for martin, but they barely know each other.” and thats… important! I cant remember a single conversation between them where they were on genuine good terms (except when he asks him if he’s a ghost and where he confesses that he’s scared), they cant understand each other’s jokes, i’d hardly call them friends by the end of season 3, i dont Understand When or Why jon would have started to develop a crush on him in s4 considering he barely talked with him at all!! (i dont ask much! some common ground and chemistry!)

sorry, im getting sidetracked; having all that in mind i could be like “okay, whatever” if in this season they could have more development in that regard, getting to know each other and finally getting to the same page, BUT THEN EP 1? 2? jon straight up says that he loves him and its like??????? I simply dont buy it! i dont! im sorry but i cant!

EVEN WITH ALL THAT i could simply be neutral about it! but people on this fandom push it like its the best thing of tma and even sell tma as this romantic story which?? is?? not?? tma is GOOD, it has GOOD CHARACTERS, GOOD CONCEPTS, GOOD HORROR STORIES, but the ROMANCE of it was poorly handled imo

so yeah, TLDR: I don’t think their so called romance was well handled over the seasons. I GET the people’s hype over it but since it never hooked me in the first place i simply cant share it, and at this point (after being in the fandom for 2 years) im mostly tired of seeing it everywhere fancontent-wise? instead of Other Stuff (anon my otp barely has 15 fics, all the art in the tag is mine, you’re asking a Very Heartbroken Guy)

jm isnt BAD, dont get me wrong, but i just dont care about it.. at All. if you follow me and really like it, though, i’d recomend blacklisting the tag “jm shittalk committee” which a couple of friends and I use, I always try to tag my dislike acordingly :)